Savage Redemption (The Caraksay Brotherhood #10)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

K ristian

I step inside the cell and cast an eye around the tiny space. The table and chair aren’t standard issue, a concession from Baz, no doubt. And I was surprised to see the prisoner on his feet, but I suppose it has been the best part of a year. I was aware of San Antonio’s brief stay at the clinic but hadn’t held out much hope for any sort of a recovery. Not that I cared, especially.

I focus on him. “How’ve you been?”

The man on the bunk shrugs.

I take in the empty tray on the floor beside the door. Looks like the remains of the duck paté and salad Janey prepared for lunch, and a slice of chocolate cheesecake. “Baz has been feeding you well, I see.”

“Your wife is an excellent cook. Convey my compliments to her, if you please.”

My prisoner’s English is excellent. Only slightly accented. I bristle at the mention of Janey, though I suppose I started it. I drag over the single chair and straddle it, leaving Baz to lean on the wall, arms folded.

“Is this it?” San Antonio glares at me, his chin tilted up. “Took you long enough.”

I don’t reply. Let him fester for a while. Eventually, I allow my mouth to curl into something vaguely resembling a smile. “I saw no need to hurry. You’re going nowhere.”

His eyes narrow, but he shows no sign of fear. My respect for him inches up a grudging notch.

“Your clan seem to be happy without you. No one wants you back, San Antonio.”

“So I gather. My cousin is a treacherous rat. Perhaps you will do me the service of killing him, should the opportunity arise.”

“Glad to. But this still leaves me with a predicament. What am I to do about you?”

He doesn’t answer. I daresay he doesn’t want to fill in the blanks for me.

I continue. “You appear to be worthless. No ransom. No power to form any sort of useful alliance. No influence anywhere. Tell me, apart from your cousin who would doubtless thank me personally for the service, would anyone else even notice you were gone?”

Again, silence. He stares at me, his expression one of dignified, resigned acceptance of his fate.

“I suppose I could keep you here indefinitely, but really, I could do with the space.”

Not a flicker.

“Or I could release you, but we both know that’s not happening. You’d regroup, come to some sort of terms with your clan, and you’d be back. I might not see you coming next time.”

I wait for some form of protest, some empty promise that he’ll go away quietly, in exchange for his life. None is forthcoming.

I let the silence drag out. Seconds, then minutes.

San Antonio breaks the deadlock. “I won’t give you the satisfaction of begging, if that’s what you’re waiting for. Just get on with it. Unless you need your sidekick to do your dirty work for you.”

I half turn towards Baz and gesture him forward. “Do the honours, would you?”

Baz takes a pace forward, to stand beside me. San Antonio’s eyes widen momentarily, but still, he doesn’t cower or flinch.

“We want to offer you a deal.” It’s the first time Baz has spoken since we entered. His words hang in the air like live, wriggling creatures.

San Antonio’s chin lifts. “I already told you. I won’t beg.”

“No. But you could pay your own ransom.”

“I have no access to Domingo funds. You know this.”

“I’m talking about your own funds. Money you earn yourself.”

“I have no?—”

“Not yet. But you could.”

San Antonio’s eyes narrow. His brow creases. “I do not follow.”

“I’ve done my homework. It seems you have a…talent for business. For making money. You proved that before you took over as head of the family. Prior to that, you were the banker. You kept the coffers filled.”

“So? I know my way around a profit-and-loss account. That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long. You won’t have forgotten.”

“You have a balance sheet you need me to decipher for you?”

“No, but we could use your talents.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“I’m offering you a job.”

“Do I look like a fucking workman?”

Baz is undeterred. “You look like a man short of options, if I’m honest. I’m offering you the chance to go back to your old life, but this time working for us.”

“Are you mad?”

My thoughts exactly, but Baz seems intent on developing his point.

“I don’t think so. You could walk out of here. Alive. A free man.”

“Not free, exactly,” I feel compelled to point out. “You’d be working for me. I’d take a percentage of what you can make. I was thinking eighty percent would be fair, leaving you something for yourself to make it worthwhile.”

“Not a fucking chance. I work for myself.”

“No, you don’t. You never did. It was always for the Domingos. It was their pockets you lined.”

“My family. My heritage.”

I get to my feet. “We’re getting nowhere. If your heritage is so important, we’ll leave you to contemplate it.” I turn to Baz. “Nice try, but we’re done here.”

“Boss, we could?—”

I shake my head. I’m already rapping on the door to be let out. “I said, we’re done.”

Back out in the dark, dank corridor, I meet Baz’s gaze. “How long are we giving him?”

“Twenty-four hours?”

“Fine. But if he doesn’t go for it, you’ll need to?—”

I’m interrupted by loud banging on the door of the cell we just left. We both halt.

“Sounds like he’s made his decision,” Baz says.

We return to the cell door, and I instruct the guard on duty to open it again. We step inside as San Antonio limps back to his bunk. He regards us stonily.

“Forty percent,” he spits.

“Seventy-five,” is my response.

“Forty-five.”

“Seventy.”

“Fifty. That’s the death.”

“Quite literally,” I observe. “Sixty-five.”

He hesitates, then, “Sixty,” and holds out his hand.

I look to Baz, then back to San Antonio. “Sixty.”

We shake on the deal.

I take my seat again. “There are conditions.”

“You don’t say…”

“Monthly reports, and payment on the dot.”

He inclines his head. “That all?”

“No. I want you off my island. You will never set foot on Tenerife again, or anywhere in the Canaries. Or any other Spanish territory. Decide where you want to set up and inform Baz. If he approves…”

“Understood. How long will this… arrangement last for?”

“Indefinitely. The ransom I set was five million euros, we’ll start with that, then renegotiate.”

“Once the ransom is paid, your percentage drops by half, then by ten percent a year, annually after that.”

Ah, he’s still in a mood to bargain. “As I said, we’ll renegotiate. And San Antonio, I will have eyes on you. Any attempt to double-cross me, or to break the terms of our contract, and I will not be merciful a second time.”

Again, he doesn’t flinch. “I’ll need funds to get started.”

“Baz will transfer fifty thousand euros to you, to be repaid before anything is credited against the ransom.” I slant a glance in Baz’s direction. “Are we done here?”

“Think so, boss.”

“Wait.” San Antonio is on his feet. “When does this?—?”

“Immediately. Baz, get him something decent to wear. I want him on a plane within twenty-four hours.”