Wicked Games (Bishop Mafia Series 1)

Chapter 20

"This is as far as I can take you, Senor." Ricardo Alvarez's brows knitted together as he removed the cigar from his thick lips. His eyes remained fixed on the Wrangler parked ten meters away from where he was standing.

"Friends of yours, Ricardo?" Leo asked as a smile escaped his lips.

"Something like that." Ricardo turned to Leo. "Is he ever going to step out of his car?" He spoke without turning his head back to stare at the orange Lamborghini purring impatiently.

"Unless he wants to." Leo turned to give a slight nod to the Don seated angrily whose fingers were furiously tapping the wheel they were perched on.

"What do you mean something like that?" Leo asked bending his head towards Ricardo's ear. "Friends or not friends?"

Ricardo spat on the floor, in front of him. It was an act of defiance. Or maybe it was courage. Ricardo knew the power the Bishop family possessed. Their Prescence in Spain has been on the rise ever since Alessandro Bishop announced his retirement from the family business. In a span of three years, the profits from the bars, the tobacco smuggling and the recent find of diamonds in Marabella amounted to an easy eighteen million a year. The Bishops with their connections all across Europe, indisputably, operated as the main exporter of the tobacco and sparkling jewels.

Ricardo, fifty-three years old was able to marry off all four of his daughters from his second marriage, to the sons of prominent Spanish businessmen. He was the Bishops' agent in Spain. His nose for business savviness and his thick lips for the smooth talking operations won over many of the locals in several towns to part of the lucrative deal going on for the past couple of years. But when business booms, trouble too begins to loom.

"Those young b*stards. They want a piece of the pie, Leo." Ricardo informed Leo.

Leo smiled. "Of course, money always talks and brings new things into our paths. Hi!" Leo raised a hand towards the group that was beginning to spill out from the Jeep wranglers.

Leo's eyes narrowed. They had to be at least seventeen. With unbranded sunglasses glistening in the Spainsh sun, the group headed holding the rifles, ready to fire anytime.

"What do you want?" The seventeen year old teenager asked Leo. He was like the leader because the others walked behind him and halted when he stopped. "¿Por qué traernos perros, viejo?" He barked the question at Ricardo.

"Easy boy!" Ricardo barked back. "You can't do this."

"Why not?" The Commander raised his hand to strike Ricardo.

The old man retreated behind Leo.

"Why you hiding old man. You talk big but your balls are small." The commander cocked his head.

Leo almost wanted to laugh. He knew exactly what the Don would do to being called a dog. The man was agitated enough. "We are here looking for someone close to us."

The teenage commander turned his gaze at the hunky Italian in front of him. "If they are close to you, why are you looking for them? Did you misplace them?" The group behind him laughed out loud, mockingly and exchanged some Spanish between them. One of the boys had his eyes only on the orange car behind the Italian.

Leo laughed along. "You guys have a good sense of humor."

"Is he going to come out? What is he waiting for?" The teenage commander threw a haughty look at the Orange car.

"Careful." Came Leo's gentle warning. "You don't want him out of the car."

"Why?" The commander turned and looked at his comrades. "He got no balls, is that it? Did he leave them in Italia?" The whole group broke out in laughter again, with some hi-5s thrown to boot. "Are these the big dogs that you the small dog is working for, old man?"