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negotiating prices. Along with
setting up a warehouse here, I was expanding the business even
farther into the States. It was a risk. Sometimes good things were
worth the risk. The money doubled, and I made new business
connections.
    I grasped the railing and closed my eyes,
remembering the way it felt to look at the ocean when I was just a
boy. I knew what my father did back then, but it all seemed
romanticized to me. The life of a drug lord was all play and no
work, right?
    Hah. Fuck that.
    Now I longed to feel free, to be beguiled by
the ocean like I had years ago. I was my father’s only son. I
always knew the business would fall on my shoulders. In my teen
years, I couldn’t wait. I’d throw around the family name like it
was candy, using it to lure in girls and intimidate guys.
    I thought being the boss
meant fucking girls and sampling the merchandise whenever I wanted.
I thought it would be endless parties and bottomless booze. I never
knew there would be so much business to the business, that good drug kings didn’t do
their own shit. I didn’t realize I would be plagued with paranoia
all the time. I never thought I’d be so…so uptight .
    I went to my bed and pulled off the
comforter. Red had left her panties. The moment was gone, and now
the lace lost its appeal.
    I sank down on the bed, trying to relax for
the first time that day. I picked up the house phone to call down
and tell the staff I was ready to be served dinner.
    My cellphone rang, interrupting me. The
ringtone let me know it was my business phone; I hurried to answer
it.
    “ Alejandro, señor ,” the voice on the
other end spoke.
    “ ¿Qué
pasa? ” I answered in Spanish.
    “ It’s Diego.”
    “ I know,” I went on. Diego
oversaw deals to the States and didn’t speak English. He’d been a
family friend for decades. I trusted him to have my back but not to
make the best decisions. He was good at following directions, at
least. “Why are you calling me?” I tried to stay calm.
    “ We have a slight
problem.”
    My heart spiked at the word “problem.” I
closed my eyes in a long blink. “What is it?”
    “ Well…it started with that
officer.”
    My blood boiled. Diego and his crew were in
Indianapolis, Indiana, delivering a large shipment of cocaine. We
knew the cops and even the Feds were watching us. They were always
watching, had been for years. But we’d covered our asses. They had
nothing concrete. I felt untouchable.
    Until one of Diego’s guys got cocky and got
himself busted. The guy panicked and shot a cop…Detective Morgan
was the name, I think. Shot but didn’t kill him.
    Fucking idiots.
    Now the IPD as well as the DEA were hot on
our asses and knew about our involvement in that area. I’d told my
guys to finish the job and get out of there.
    “ Get to the point, Diego,” I
grumbled.
    “ That officer has a sister,”
he said and paused.
    “ So?”
    “ She’s a cop
too.”
    “ And?” I demanded, needing
to know why this warranted a phone call.
    “ She tried to bust us. But
we got her. Don’t worry, Boss.”
    I blinked. “Got her?”
    “ Yes. She’s with
us.”
    I wanted to slam my head into the wall. “Did
you shoot another cop?”
    “ No. I knew better than
that, sir. We took her.”
    I wanted to slam my face into the wall. “You
kidnapped an officer. Where the fuck are you?”
    “ The warehouse, señor .”
    “ I’ll be right there,” I
said through clenched teeth. I hung up the phone and got dressed,
grabbing a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeve t-shirt. I
tucked a gun into the back of my pants. I hurried down the stairs
and pulled the keys to my Porsche on the way into the five-car
garage.
    I sank into the driver’s seat. The car was
new. It smelled like rich leather. But even the new car scent did
little to calm me. I was mad. So fucking mad. I wanted to hit
Diego, never mind him being a friend, for doing something so
fucking dumb.
    Shooting a cop was one thing.
    Kidnapping and