by Stone, M. T.
“You can’t be too cautious in this business,” he counters. “How many old people do you know in my line of work?” He glares at her, obviously annoyed.
“We’re ready to go,” Devon says, picking up the bags and heading toward the vehicle. All three security agents continue to face outward at full attention while we load our luggage in the back and take our seats in the back row.
After everyone is settled in, the agents do one more sweep around the vehicle before joining us. “Everything is secure,” the lead agent assures Grandpa after taking the front passenger seat. The driver takes a full sweep of the windows and mirrors before turning the wheel and starting toward the airport exit.
“You have an impressive security team,” Devon tells Grandpa.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Grandma immediately replies with a hearty laugh. “He spends more money on his army than anything else.” She shakes her head and continues laughing to herself.
“She thinks it’s funny.” Grandpa turns in his seat to face Devon and me. “But there’s a reason we are the largest and oldest production facility in this country. We haven’t had any problems since the Gaviria administration.”
“Maybe it’s because you’ve bought every election ever since,” Grandma counters. “He hasn’t lost an election since 1990,” she adds, jabbing him in the side.
“Politics has been a lucrative hobby.” Grandpa nods, cracking a smirk. “A man has to have hobbies, right, Devon?” He stares directly at him, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, hobbies are important,” he agrees. “I’ve been mainly involved with local politicians, but we’re hoping to broaden our horizons in the coming months. I’m also interested in learning to golf.” He curls his lip just slightly as if he’s wondering if Grandpa will pick up on his humor.
“Golf. Now there’s a productive pastime.” Grandpa shakes his head and turns back toward the front of the vehicle. After several seconds, he looks back over his shoulder. “You’re joking, right?”
“Yes.” Devon pats him on the shoulder. “I would never have the patience for golf.”
A sense of relief passes through me as I see how the two men are getting along. Devon may not realize it now, but a good relationship with him is crucial to our success. Especially since my father is being such a prick. Judging from the outward appearance, I suspect that Grandpa still has significant ownership in the operation. Hopefully, he can do something for us.
As the trees begin to thicken, my mind wanders back to being here with my mother as a young girl. Once school got out for the summer, we would always come down here for the month of June. Every day was the same, ninety degrees with humidity that made if feel even hotter. The swimming pool was my go-to spot, but it wasn’t much fun without any friends to swim with. Mom would play with me until she got tired, then I would cook with Grandma while she took her afternoon nap. When it rained, I would go outside in my swimsuit and enjoy the coolness of it. The swimming pool was like bath water, so the cool rain was always a treat. Even though it’s good to see my grandparents again, it makes me think about my mother and the hole she left behind.
Devon
Antonio looks exactly how I pictured him. Five foot ten and a lean build, with salt-and-pepper hair neatly slicked back. He’s dressed in a black suit with a blue and white pinstriped shirt, just like a regular businessman. He exudes wisdom and control the same way Papa Joe did. I think back to the time I spent with him at his mansion in Detroit. Many of the lessons that I carry with me to this day were learned back then. My father was always busy and rarely home, so I spent many afternoons with him and would occasionally stay overnight in one of the many upstairs bedrooms. I remember the eerie sounds that used to echo through the hallways of that house. It was sort of traumatic for a young boy who was away from home. I never dared express my fears to him, so my grandmother was always the one who tucked me in at night. She would always leave a nightlight on for me and assured me that she was right down the hall if I ever got scared. I have often thought about whether my dad would make a good grandfather. He definitely wasn’t there for me, but now that he’s getting close to retirement, maybe he would take the time. I’m sure my grandfather wasn’t around much while his children were growing up either. Things had to have been a little crazy back in the prohibition days.
“Have you ever heard of Papa Joe from Detroit?” I ask, curious as to how widely he was known. “He was big in the Detroit Partnership following prohibition.”
“Old Papa Joe.” Antonio nods with a subdued smile. “That was the heyday for those boys. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Everyone has gotten soft, trying to run things without stepping on any toes. It’s not possible. Old Joe knew how to run things.”
“With an iron fist,” I add. “That’s how I like to do things. You can always lighten up down the road, but you have to make a good first impression.”
“The moment you lighten up, you’re washed up,” the old man replies with a scowl. “At the first sign of weakness, someone younger will clean your clock. You’ve got to stay tough to stay alive in this business.”
“Good point.” I agree. “That’s probably why Papa walked away when he did. He knew that he didn’t have the bite anymore. That’s probably why I loved him so much, since I only knew his softer side.”
“We all have to pretend not to be animals when the grandkids are around.” He looks over at Victoria. “Right, sweetheart?”
“Right, Grandpa,” she replies sweetly. “I don’t ever remember you raising your voice around me. I actually thought you were a farmer when I was young.” She smiles and shakes her head.
“I am a farmer,” he tells her before turning back toward the front of the vehicle. “A damn wealthy farmer at that.” As we continue to wind down the tree-lined road, the lead security agent continues to radio ahead at each security checkpoint, letting them know that we’re about to pass. “There is only one way in and one way out,” he adds, glancing back at me. “That tends to keep traffic to a minimum.”
“Yeah, I imagine it would be rather difficult to get past those checkpoints if you weren’t invited,” I speculate. “They look to be pretty well-armed.”
“If you take this road without an invitation, you’d better be riding in an M1 tank or you’re going to have a pretty difficult day,” he replies with a deadpan look. “No one has even tried in the past few years.”
I honestly can’t imagine anyone thinking they could sneak onto this property. We’ve already gone about ten miles on this winding old gravel road, and I have yet to see a coca plant. “How much farther is it?”
“Only about five miles. Our first fields are about two miles up the road. They’ll be on your left.” He continues to scan the horizon as if he is the backup security team. “We’ve got a good crop at the moment. The weather has been perfect.”
“Hot and humid?” Victoria asks with a giggle.
“Hot and humid,” her grandmother mutters, turning back to look at us. “What’s it like to curl your hair and have it last all day?” She gives Victoria a tired smile. It’s obvious that she doesn’t feel well. It’s probably a good thing that Victoria and I came down here so she has a chance to see her again. I think of my own grandmother, whom I haven’t seen seen since Papa Joe passed. I should really spend a few days in Michigan before fall comes. It would be good to see Mom and Dad too. Even though I’m sure to get the same lecture as last time. Maybe I’ll wait until things are running a little more smoothly.
“There is the cash crop,” Antonio says with a look of pride. “Better than any goddamn money tree, if you ask me.”
“It’s definitely easier to grow,” I reply, looking at lush green plants for as far as we can see. “How much coke is produced here anyway?”
“As much as Victor needs,” he replies with a wry smile. “We are actually producing more than he can handle right now.”
“Maybe we’ll be able to help you out with that,” I reply, hoping for some
sign that he will work with us.
“We’ll talk business in due time,” he replies sternly. He then turns forward in silence.
“He’s always been so secretive,” Valeria adds. “He’s always concerned about wire taps and those types of things.”
“Secrecy is one reason I’m still in business, while most of my competitors are dead or in U.S. prisons,” he seethes without taking his eyes off the road ahead.
“I agree. I don’t tell anyone anything unless they are directly affected.” I turn back toward the side window and become mesmerized by row after row of coca plants. I can’t even fathom the money that is generated by what I’m seeing. It has to be in the billions of dollars. My heartbeat quickens at the thought of being part of it. If we can negotiate a deal that just supplies Devon City, I will have wealth beyond my wildest dreams.
I slip my hand into Victoria’s lap and give her thigh a squeeze. She glances over and gives me that sexy look of hers. I’m suddenly wishing that we would’ve had sex this morning before we left. Who knows if we’ll get a chance to be alone down here. Maybe we can sneak off later and have sex among the coca plants. That would be a lasting memory.
Chapter 14
Devon
After being shown to our rooms, Victoria joins Valeria for tea in the sitting room. Antonio nods for me to follow him outside, where he offers me an expensive looking cigar and sits down on the porch. It’s a little too hot and sticky to be smoking a cigar, but I’m not going to turn him down. I watch him as he unwraps and trims it. Some people are offended if you trim off too much of an expensive cigar, so I emulate him with precision. He scratches a wooden match against the old rocking chair that bears dozens of scratch marks from prior smoking sessions. I lean in as he lights my cigar before his own.
“There is nothing like a good cigar,” he says, blowing a thick cloud into the air above us. “I often think I should retire and become a tobacco farmer. With the free trade agreement, it’s finally a lucrative business.”
“I’m sure it would be less stress, but you probably wouldn’t make the kind of money you’re used to making,” I reply, curious as to just how lucrative this plantation is.
“I don’t make the kind of money that Victor makes, but then I don’t really need a billion a week,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Of course, he has to pay off the government and everyone else to keep them at bay. But we’ve all done pretty good. I keep my end under control and he works his.”
“Yeah, I’ve been spreading the money around back home and it’s working pretty well so far,” I tell him, wanting to ease into a business conversation. “I was hoping to take over part of the supply chain in the coming months, but it appears that I’ll be stepping on Victor’s toes. Or as of next week, maybe Eduardo’s.”
Antonio’s eyes instantly grow dark. “Don’t bring up that name again. That boy was the death of Felicia.”
“Felicia was Victoria’s mother?” I ask, never having heard her actual name.
“It was. I lost her and then I lost my son, Tony Junior, about five years later.” He takes a puff of his cigar and stares off into the distance. “It’s true what they say . . . no one should have to bury a child. Especially both of them. It’s been awfully hard on Val.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine. I think my parents are relieved that both my brother and sister followed Dad into the corporate world. They wanted the same for me, but I love the thrill of the chase.” I take another puff of the cigar before billowing out a long cloud of smoke. “I was always fascinated by Papa Joe’s stories.”
“And believe me, he didn’t tell you the half of it,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “Those were the glory days for the mob. Back when you could really run the show in a city like Detroit or Chicago.”
“Yeah, I remember him cleaning out his pockets and tossing a huge roll of hundred-dollar bills onto the dresser. I always wanted to walk around with a roll like that.” I pull mine from my pocket and tap it against the top of my leg.
“We’re a dying breed,” he replies nostalgically. “Nowadays, everyone uses credit cards, but that will never happen in our world. We’ll be fucked if the U.S. ever follows through and stops printing Franklins though.”
“Yeah, they’ve been threatening it for years.” I take another puff of the cigar, even though I’ve had more than enough of it already.
“That’s why Victor is smart to run everything through a legitimate business and pay the taxes,” he says, leaning forward in his chair. “Are you going to help Victoria?”
“Are you?” I ask in return. “That’s why we’re here. She was crushed when Victor told her that he was going to turn the reins over to her half-brother.”
“Well, I refuse to make that little fucker rich,” he says with venom in his voice. “So I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“That’s exactly what we were hoping for,” I admit. “We were hoping you could supply us with enough for my market, at least.”
He turns and looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Even with my supply, you can’t compete against The Syndicate. That’s like someone trying to take the market share from me. They would crush you before you made your first sale. So believe me when I tell you that you never stood a chance in your local market unless you went through them.”
“Yeah, Victoria basically told me the same thing.” I tap the cigar against the bottom of my shoe, putting it out. “I’ll save the rest for later.”
“That’s okay. I can tell you’re not a cigar smoker,” he says with a grin. “Victoria needs to take over Victor’s position. That’s the only way things will work out.”
“But how?” I ask, not sure how we can get her into that position. From everything I’ve ever heard, Victor is a stubborn man and doesn’t change his mind.
“Victoria is his daughter, so she can get close enough,” he says with a glimmer in his eye. “He trusts her implicitly, even though he shouldn’t. I wish she would’ve called me sooner though. I could’ve gotten the two of you down here without his knowing about it.”
“Do you think he knows we’re here?” I ask, having not given it a second thought.
“Yes. His contacts at the airport informed him before you were even onboard,” he tells me. “He called me to ask what the visit was about. So I told him that Valeria is sick. She was just diagnosed with fourth-stage liver cancer last week. It was a timely excuse. He may have bought it, but who knows?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I shake my head, not knowing what else to say. I don’t know a lot about cancer, but I do know that fourth-stage anything is not good. “Is she going to take treatments?”
“No. There is no hope of recovery, so we’re just going to make sure she’s kept comfortable,” he says with the darkness returning to his eyes. “That’s why it’s time for me to start thinking about making a transition. I’m not going to sit out here by myself. My kids are gone, so what’s the point? Victoria is my closest heir, so I’m glad she’s interested in the business.”
“Do you still have quite a bit of ownership in it?” I ask based on what Victoria had said about her father not leaving himself exposed.
“One hundred percent,” he scoffs. “I bought out my partner in the mid-nineties and have owned it ever since.”
“Victoria thought that maybe you had sold part of it to Victor,” I say, wanting him to know why I would’ve thought otherwise.
“Victor owns the distribution,” he replies, narrowing his eyes. “There’s no way I would let him own the supply as well.” He looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Not that he didn’t try, but when Felicia died, I was damn glad I had followed my gut. After her passing, I told him never to ask again. I agreed to continue supplying him, but that’s it.”
Things suddenly begin to make sense. Victor knows that his daughter is the closest heir and that she will inherit control of this farm. Therefore, it makes sense that he would want his son to have control over The Syndicate. It has nothing to do with favoritism, but
business as usual. “So basically, Eduardo will take over Victor’s role and Victoria will take over yours.” The look on his face tells me that I fucked up, saying Eduardo’s name again. “I’m sorry—it slipped.”
“Like I said, I refuse to make that little fucker rich.” He stares at me with a look of determination. “Victoria chose you for a reason. She knew Victor was a fan of your grandfather’s and there aren’t many single men with a family tree like yours. That MBA was the icing on the cake.”
“So you knew that she was stalking me?” I ask, surprised to hear that they had been in contact.
“Of course. Victor’s son wanted to snuff you out, but Victoria talked him into letting her neutralize you instead.” He gives me a sly look. “Since you’re sitting on my porch, I assume she was successful.”
I don’t like the fact that everyone keeps talking about neutralizing me. No one neutralized me. I’m the one who neutralizes people, usually with brute force. I can feel a rush of blood moving to my cheeks as my blood pressure rises. Part of me realizes that this is a necessary evil since Antonio and Victor control such a huge part of the cocaine market, but it’s insulting to think of myself as being controlled by everyone around me.
“She chose you based on your background and strength, not because she thought she could easily manipulate you,” he adds, apparently sensing my irritation. I nod, acknowledging his words, but it still bothers me to think of myself as some sort of pawn in a much larger game.
“So what’s my role?” I ask, wanting to know what is expected. “I’m not the type who likes to be played, especially by a woman.”
“Oh, Lord!” He laughs, slapping his knee with his free hand. “You should’ve figured out by now that Vicki is no ordinary woman. She is a combination of her father and me, all wrapped up in a pretty little dress. That woman could take on damn near anyone and come out on top.”
“Yeah, I knew the first time I met her that she was something special,” I assure him, thinking back to the incredible presence she had even when she was strapped to that carpet cutting table. “I think it’s funny that she always dresses up in pretty little dresses and high heels.”