Venomous King (Venom #2)

24. Diego

Chapter twenty-four

Diego

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.”

George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

I ’m almost out of ammo, and these fuckers don’t seem to be waning. Who the fuck are they, and why are they attacking us? They came out of nowhere, while I was leaving the warehouse outside of town that I have been using for Cartel business. Their sheer numbers suggested that this was a planned attack, and not just some random opportunity to take me and my men out.

I knew it was too good to be true, that we could broker peace with the other families, as my father was adamant that we should. He wants a world where Julia lives peacefully and isn’t targeted as a means of retribution, but I know the truth. No one will truly give up power and share it. Someone always feels like they deserve more of the pie, and we are the fucking bakery, so of course, they will keep coming for us, despite assurances of the opposite. As much as I want Julia and Issy to be safe, I know peace agreements won’t be the way to ensure that, only violence and force can make others bend to our will.

“Diego, your father is sending reinforcements, but they won’t be here quickly enough before we’re out of bullets.” Vega slides next to me, as I crouch behind one of the vehicles we are using for cover. Blood seeps from a wound in one of his arms, and his breathing is harsh, sharp pants. Fuck, how many men are no longer breathing because I was foolish, and thought I could continue living in the little town without consequences?

“How many of our men are still standing?” I grunt as I peek up and return fire, taking down one of the assholes that was trying to approach our left flank.

“Not many, we should have had more here, but they caught us unprepared.” I can hear the disapproval in his tone, and I get it; I’m fucking furious someone has dared to have the audacity to attack me. To attack the Cabanos is a death wish, and I have no intention of not cutting the head off this spiteful snake immediately. Blood will run through the streets of various cities when I am done.

“Send two of our men back inside the warehouse, and have them gather whatever weapons are still left. We will not die here like fucking lambs to the slaughter!” I don’t wait for his agreement, jumping up and firing until my gun clicks empty, and I have killed a few more men, before diving for cover. I’m closer now to the attackers, and my hope is I can capture one of them still alive, so I can get an answer on who is brazenly attacking me.

“ Sal serpiente, muere como un hombre. (Come out, snake, die like a man.) “ A loud, gruff voice yells over the chaos. A smirk crosses my lips at this idiot’s taunting. Does he really think that will work? That I’m such a deranged asshole that mere words would drive me over the edge? It’s time to remind my enemies why exactly they should fear me.

Retrieving Issy has made me complacent and weak. I’ve allowed my guard to drop, and become docile, instead of ruling with an iron fist. My enemies should have never believed that they could murder me. That will never happen again. As much as I want a life with Issy and Julia, we can’t have some white picket fence dream. I’m the head of a cartel, and she’s my queen. Fear, death, and destruction are what should enter the minds of anyone who even dares to utter my name. My father was wrong; peace and security can only come with bloodshed.

I slide forward, feeling for the last clip I have strapped on my body, and reloading my weapon. I can’t die here. To do so would guarantee that Issy and Julia follow me into death. There is no way another cartel will leave them alive. No, they will wipe all that I love from the face of the earth.

Just as I am about to rush the group of men before me, the sound of rapid gunfire erupts from behind them, pinning the assholes attacking me on two fronts. Have my father’s men arrived to reinforce us? I jump up and fire, taking down men at will, as I move forward into the fray. I see Vega out of the corner of my eye, fighting hand-to-hand with one of our attackers.

“ Jefe (boss) ! It looks like another family has come to save us. These are not your father’s men!“ Julio runs past me, firing his gun and getting lost in the fight. Not my father’s men? What family would come to assist us? We have no agreements of aid with anyone.

A bullet flies past my head, as I’m busy contemplating who would offer assistance from within the cartel families, and I have to bring myself back to the here and now. I have to focus, I have to survive this so I can get back to my family. To Issy and Julia, and I guess even that fucker, Kai. No way am I allowing him to be the only one left in my girls’ lives, because the pretty boy would gloat. Fuck him. I’m going to survive, for the sheer pleasure of ruining all his days for the rest of his life, or at least for as long as I continue allowing him to breathe.

The sound of gunfire begins to ease, but the screams of pain, and requests for mercy, are only beginning. The men that were attacking us are now severely outnumbered, and are dying before my eyes. I shoot one in the thigh as he tries to run away, and he falls to the ground, clutching the wound, as his screams of pain bring a shiver of delight to my body. There will be so many more screams before I am done. I’m going to make an example out of this asshole, and send him in pieces back to whoever his master is. “Miguel, make sure this one survives, we need answers on who these fuckers were.”

I know my command will be instantly obeyed, and my men are fully aware of the cost of displeasing me; some of the superstitious among them genuinely believe that I’m the devil’s son, and a mystical serpent who will chase them into the afterlife. My father tells me I shouldn’t fan those thoughts, that it will only make me a further target, but the fear is an aphrodisiac to me, and I crave it, almost as much as I do Issy’s sweet pussy.

“ Si, jefe (yes, boss) .“ He drags the man by the hair a few feet, and punches him repeatedly until he falls unconscious to the ground, then wraps his belt around his leg to stem the blood flow. Well, I guess that’s one way to prevent him from slinking away.

“Diego Cabano in the flesh. It seems like you were in need of some saving,” a loud, boisterous voice rings out, and catches my attention. I force myself to hide my reaction to the body that the voice belongs to; Vito Amato. What was one of the Italian mafia dons from Illinois doing here in Oregon, and coming to my rescue?

I take him in as he stands there, brandishing a machine gun like a psychopath. His large, broad, and stocky frame is covered with a blood-splattered, three-piece, light brown Brioni suit. He came to a gunfight dressed like he was going to some executive office; these Italians and their need to be showoffs. Most of the time, I can’t even take these fuckers seriously, but right now, I owe my life and that of my remaining men to him, so I hold my tongue about his choices in wardrobe. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back, and his ruddy olive-toned skin shows the efforts of his exertion, and years of drinking. Dark brown eyes meet mine, and I don’t see any malice in their depths, just calculation.

“What are you doing here, Amato? You’re far from your territory.” I’m painfully aware of how his men outnumber my remaining soldiers. With one wrong move, they could kill us all. Have I just traded death at one enemy’s hands for another?

“Your father reached out; he knew I was in Oregon on business, and made a deal for aid on your family’s behalf.” What kind of deal would my father make with an Italian mobster? They don’t have need of our weapons, to my knowledge, and we don’t traffic in drugs or women. There is nothing off the top of my head that my father could offer this man, to pull him into whatever war this is about to become. The Italians stay out of the cartel’s business, and vice versa.

“Is that so? I’m pretty sure we had it handled, Amato, but thank you nonetheless.” We did not fucking have it handled, we were moments away from being overrun and murdered, and I still don’t even know who was attacking us. Not that I will let this mafioso see me sweat. Men who let others see their weaknesses are dead men.

I approach him, stepping over dead bodies in my path, and notice one of his men moving closer to him in a protective stance. That must be his enforcer, and the fucker’s massive. He looks like what you would picture a minotaur to look like, minus the horns. Ugly as fuck.

“Always so full of yourself, Diego,” Vito chuckles, “I like that about you. No matter what is happening around you, you don’t let anyone see you sweat.” He steps forward and offers me his hand, and I don’t dare not take it. To do so would be a grave insult, and I have no desire to die today. His grip is firm and strong. He squeezes my hand as if he’s trying to break it, but I return the favor. I won’t be intimidated by anyone.

“My father knew you were in Oregon? I didn’t realize the two of you were friendly.” What type of relationship does my father have with this man? I have never heard him speak of the Italian mafia, except as a warning not to offend them. How is it now that he could bargain with this man, and he would readily accept? All of this intrigue is giving me a fucking headache. All I want to do is get out of here and head home, so I can wrap my girls in my arms, and reassure myself that they are safe.

“We were... friends in a previous life, when we were both much younger, foolish, and fearless. Now, we are old men, waiting to pass over our empires to our sons, so our legacies can continue.” He releases his grip on my hand, and the blood rushes back into my numb fingers. “I see that look of suspicion in your eyes, boy. I’m not here to murder you in their stead. If I wanted you dead, you would be. No, I have plans for our two families, and so does your father, it appears.”

What the fuck does that mean? His words sound ominous, and uneasiness fills me. “My father has plans for our families? That’s news to me.” I don’t care what plans this fucker has, I won’t be forced into anything, and neither will my family. What was my father thinking making any kind of deal with them? He better not be considering trying to force me into another fucking arranged marriage. He knows I won’t be parted from Issy, and the last attempt only garnered us more enemies.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Diego. I’m sure your father will fill you in when the time is right, but now is not that time. Let’s part ways for now amicably, and know that your enemies are now my enemies.”

I’m so shocked at his words that I don’t get a word out, as he orders his men back to their vehicles, and they turn to leave. I can hear the blaring of sirens heading in our direction. Fuck, here come the people in blue, and there are dead bodies and weapons littered everywhere. We need to get out of here. “Just remember, Diego. We are family now, reach out when you need assistance, and we will come.”

Jesus fuck, what has my father promised this asshole?