“Not out here,” he said, already annoyed. “I keep telling you—there’s always someone listening.” That he knew for sure from his old life. Listening and watching people get rich doing whatever the hell they wanted had fueled his rage once upon a time. Now he knew power belonged to those courageous enough to take it. “What?” He turned the television on and brought his tone down considerably.

“The men call me, and Hector’s fields are burnt. There will be no more plants for long time,” Castillo said in broken English that was getting better.

“They did what I said?” He took a cigar from the small case he carried with him. He’d seen Casey and the Jatibon woman share a smoke sometimes and had given it a try. The Cuban Cohibas were an indulgence worth every penny he paid for them.

“Yes,” Castillo said, laughing. “They spray and the ground die like you say. This will make the price go up, and we can start to sell.”

“Give it another month.” He blew the smoke out in rings and smiled. “The junkies who can’t live without a fix will be willing to kill to get a hit. Once the money starts coming in, we’ll take care of Hector and his crazy bitch of a daughter. That’ll clear the way for us to take over.”

“The men only worry about Carlos.” Castillo appeared almost afraid to bring up the name of Rodolfo Luis’s son and heir. The man who’d stood behind Rodolfo for years had been an effective leader who’d cobbled his father’s empire back together and had become a force to be dealt with.

“That’s not our problem right now, so tell them to relax. Concentrate on putting Hector out of business, and the rest will come when we’re in charge.” He sat and adjusted the towel around his waist, ready to get back to his massage. “I have something I need you to do for me, and you’re the only one I trust to get it done.”

“Whatever you want.”

“It has to do with my father.”

Chapter Three

Emma twitched the new dress, getting it to lie correctly right above her knee. She’d picked it when Cain sat in the dressing room and smiled in a way that telegraphed what she thought. That welcome intense stare had made her want to come home again. It was the same look she was getting now, and it made her nipples hard.

There was no time, though. They were attending a dinner at Vincent Carlotti’s restaurant, which had now become a quarterly thing for the families doing business together. Business only took up a small portion of the evening, and the rest of the time was spent laughing and catching up on each other’s lives.

“You look more beautiful by the day,” Cain said, putting her arms around her from behind.