Raul
“We’ve reached our destination, senor,” Ruben says, pulling the car to a stop. I hum, more focused on Matteo’s message than anything else happening around me. He’s gonna be an hour late. Well, it’s not too bad, but I gotta warn Isabella.
“Are they here?” I finally put my phone back into my pocket and look up, dusting off my shoulders. It shouldn’t be long until we’re done with this nonsense.
“Yes. I see four of Alvaro’s cars on the other side of the bridge.”
Only four? I chuckle and shake my head, reaching for the door handle. There are two of our cars following Ruben’s, but even if we end up being slightly outnumbered, Alvaro is too big of an idiot to have experienced men under his command. I’m pretty sure that even Ruben and I would be able to deal with them in a matter of minutes-but well, if Alvaro wants a demonstration of power, he’s gonna get it.
Ruben gets out of the car first to check our surroundings, and I follow him a few seconds later. I hear the thuds of closed car doors and the low murmur of my men as they leave their cars and gather closer to us. I look at them over my shoulder to make sure that everyone’s here and ready before turning to the bridge.
The place Alvaro has chosen to challenge me is an abandoned bridge on the outskirts of Chicago. It’s quiet here, only the distant rumble of a freeway and the rustle of yellow leaves in the wind interrupt the peaceful silence. I hum under my nose, looking around. I kind of like it here. If there’s a prettier place nearby that’s not full of old bricks and bare rods, I might take Isabella here someday.
“So you’ve decided to show up in person this time.” A young and guttural male voice interrupts my thoughts, and I immediately feel less inclined to spare him today. “Brave enough, Senor Raul.”
I raise my eyebrows and look at the group of people on the other side of the bridge. One of them steps forward with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face, and I guess it’s their overconfident leader, Alvaro Gonzalez. I haven’t seen him in person yet, only heard about his bloodthirst and inflated ego through reports of our men. He looks even less impressive up close. Just a short man with stubble for hair and a scar on his lip. And that’s what I came here for?
“It’s a shame we had to kill two of your men to finally get your attention,” Alvaro says with exaggerated carelessness, and I quirk an
eyebrow. What a cocky bastard, huh?
“I’ve come to see what kind of idiot had enough guts to challenge me.” I pointedly eye him from head to toe and grimace a little. “I’m not impressed.”
Alvaro huffs, but I hear the annoyance in the sound. He glares at me, and his men gather behind him, flexing their shoulders and making threatening faces. Am I supposed to be intimidated by this bunch of clowns?
“Well, you should be, Raul,” Alvaro says with a lower voice, taking his hands out of his pockets to demonstratively crack his knuckles.
“Because your reign has come to an end.”
Oh, really? I can’t help but smile a little, tilting my head with amused curiosity. “And why is that?”
“Because I will take over.” He puffs up, straightening even harder, and it looks so comical that I hear my men chuckle behind my back. He probably hears it too, because the look on his face darkens, and he
continues with a growl, “You have your last chance to give me half of your territories…”
Half of my territories? This time, I laugh as well. God, this Alvaro is a funny guy.
“… and go back to Mexico. Otherwise, I will burn your cartel into ashes.”
Alvaro’s men seem to be pretty excited about the prospect because they exchange smirks and nods, rolling their wrists and heads as if we’re going to settle it with a fistfight. Maybe that’s how they do it in the dirty parts of Chicago, but I prefer simpler and faster methods.
“And how do you plan to do it, I wonder?” I ask in a relaxed manner, taking a step forward with an unbothered smile.
The movement seems to trigger the most panic-stricken member of Alvaro’s entourage, and I catch him reaching for his gun with an unnerved expression on his face. Bad choice. I blink-and the next moment, the guy drops to the ground with the thunder of a gunshot from behind me scaring a few birds off the trees.
“What the fuck?” Alvaro yells out loud, rushing to the man cursing and screaming in pain on the ground.
He’s holding his shoulder, blood dripping onto the crumbled cement, and I feel the distant echo of pain in my own shoulder. I roll it just to make sure it’s alright and look at Alvaro with a tight smile when he turns back to me. There’s a grimace of rage on his face, and he quickly stands up and takes a few steps toward me, reaching for his gun.
“You bastard!”
“Are you sure you want to go there?” I quirk an eyebrow as the simultaneous rustle of jackets and metallic clicks of pushed-down hammers rise behind me. Even Ruben, who usually remains cool in the face of danger, grabs his gun.
Alvaro stops not even halfway through the bridge, and his gaze darts over the men behind me. I don’t know how many guns he can count, but it looks like the number is big enough to make him rethink his decision. He clenches his jaw but lets go of his holster, and the tension between us slightly cools down.
“You’ll pay for this, Raul,” Alvaro growls, trying to sound scary, and I take a breath to tell him what a small bug he is in the grand scheme of things when I hear a scratch of tires against gravel.
Someone pulls up from our side of the bridge, and when I look over my shoulder I can’t help but chuckle. Who would’ve thought they’d get so worried?
The SUV doors open, and Sasha and Sergei get out of it, looking like brother and sister with their blond hair and light skin that has barely gained any sun tan this summer. I mean, they’re cousins, so it’s not that big of a difference. Sergei lingers by the closed door, assessing the situation with a rather bored expression, while Sasha steps forward with her hands in her pockets.
“Do you need help?” she asks, glancing at Alvaro with a look of disdain. The Russians don’t like dealing with thugs and cockroaches like this one, but I guess they have nothing more entertaining going on this afternoon.
“No, we’re good.” I wave a hand at her, and Sasha shrugs and looks back at Sergei.
“Well, we’ll stick around, just for fun.” She climbs on top of the hood, looking like she’s ready for a theatrical performance, which only proves my point. Well, I doubt it’ll be as fun as she wants it to be, but I’ll do my best.
“Do you think you’re gonna scare me?”
Alvaro raises his voice, struggling to stay still and glancing between us with a frown, and the meaning of his words gets lost in the clear tension in his voice. He does look scared, as do the people behind him, and I click my tongue and shake my head. Letting your true emotions slip out is the first mistake of a rookie.
“I’m not trying to scare you,” I say calmly, but it seems to wire him up even more.
“Yes, right. Good. Because I’m not gonna step away.” Alvaro does all he can to appear important and confident, but the little step back tells me all I need to know. “I’m gonna destroy you, Raul.”
I hear Sasha chuckle, and I guess it is quite entertaining for her.
Alvaro notices this as well because his nervousness fires up into anger, his frown deepening, his fists clenching.
“What? It’s true. Chicago isn’t big enough for two Mexican families, and I’m gonna-”
Before he finishes, another car drives into our midst to join us, and I look back just in time to see Louis and Giovanni jump out of their jeep with energy in their step. Louis grins as soon as he spots Sasha a few feet away who rolls her eyes with a subtle smile on her lips-while Giovanni walks closer to me with his eyes set on Alvaro’s men.
“We heard there’s a party here,” he says with an unimpressed expression, and Alvaro steps back with a look of fear taking over his features. Not gonna step away, huh?
I huff, wave a hand at Giovanni to let him know I’m okay, and take a step toward Alvaro with ice in my eyes. I still can’t believe someone so
small and pitiful would think he could stand against the De Lugo cartel. But now that the amusement has passed, I feel irritated at the prospect of ever dealing with him again.
“You were right, Alvaro,” I say coldly, looking into his scared eyes. “Chicago is not big enough to have space for a dumbass like you. Get out of here and…”
Another one of his men gives in to panic, raises his gun-and immediately gets shot in his chest.
“… never come back.”
God, they didn’t even let me finish. How rude.
Alvaro turns around, running to his car, but it’s too late to avoid justice. I raise my hand high-and my men open fire at them.
A string of screams and curses follows, some of them trying to fire back only to drop dead on the ground a moment later. The chaos on the other side of the bridge is the complete opposite of the calm and steady stance of our people. The gunfight ends in a few seconds with Alvaro’s body plastered against the bridge, most of his men lying dead a dozen feet away, and only three of them having enough presence of mind to jump into a car and drive away in a hurry.
A total silence follows the roar and havoc until someone spits on the ground.
“That wasn’t worth our time,” Sergei says with a note of complaint, and someone-I’m pretty sure it’s Louis-laughs in response.
“Ah, come on. At least we got to stretch our muscles, right, honey?”