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My father had also used a portion of the second floor to store various pieces of art currently not on display. He’d conditioned and secured two rooms, enough to house his precious pieces.

The explosion, while somewhat controlled, had ripped through the second floor, destroying almost every work of art to the tune of millions of dollars. At least that’s what the firefighters had told me.

I’d been forced to wait for almost six hours until the fire had been put out and the area deemed partially accessible. Sadly, the second floor was off limits, which meant no one would be able to do an insurance claim or assessment.

Not that we’d ever bothered to use our insurance coverage for a single loss. There was a chance of too many questions being asked, too many people with eyes on our products. But with two million dollars’ worth of cocaine going up in flames, the loss could be considered catastrophic.

Both Kruz and Navarro stood in the aftermath of charred remains, both as in disbelief as I was. Namely because the hit had been made in the middle of the day and not a single person had seen anything.

The cameras had seemed operational, but somehow, the signal had been interrupted long enough for someone to enter, plant the bomb, and leave.

Kruz crouched down, staring at what was left of the product. “My guess is whoever planted the bomb detonated it from a distance.”

I nodded.

“Not a crude bomb either,” Navarro said as he scanned what was left of the room. “You can tell by the burn marks. Shows signs of expertise.”

“The Turks,” Kruz snarled.

“Too soon,” I reminded him. “Our buddy Baris’ gift-wrapped body has yet to make it to the Turkish mob boss. This was something controlled and very personal.”

Very personal indeed.

Kruz moved closer. “Ms. Morales.”

“That would be my guess.”

“If so, she certainly didn’t waste any time settling into her father’s footsteps.”

I glanced down as the charred remains of the pallet the cocaine was in, unable to keep myself from grinning. “She’s a tough lady put in an even tougher position. She needed to come out swinging.”

“No disrespect, boss man, but it sounds like you’re making excuses for her,” Navarro suggested.

“Not excuses. I actually admire her tenacity.”

“Even if she all but kicked you in the balls. Sir.” Kruz knew he was the only person who could get away with talking to me in that manner.

She’d done more than that. I looked up at the gaping hole in the ceiling leading to the second floor. I’d yet to have a conversation with my father, but I was certain he was livid. Years of going to art galleries and auctions lost in an act of retaliation against anoffer, albeit an indecent one. I wondered how he felt about his recommendation now.

“You waited, Lord Torres, to see what she would do. What now?” Navarro’s tone held a cold vibe of disdain. He never called me Lord unless he was furious at my actions or lack thereof.

I glanced in his direction, keeping my glare as icy as his tone. “It’s the cost of doing business, Navarro. In the scheme of things, not a significant loss. Although we will ensure our security is beefed up at our other facilities. Any other disturbance I’ll consider an act of war.”

As I started to walk out, sick of the stench covering my skin, Kruz grabbed my arm. When I stared down at his hold slowly, he removed and curled his fingers.

“You can’t let this go unpunished.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do. Neither one of you. I have no intention of allowing this to go without a response, but I want her to sweat. I need the lovely Ms. Morales to wonder what I’m thinking and planning. She has no idea how vital the art of patience can be.”

Kruz exhaled. “Understood. I’ll have this cleaned up. What about the fire investigation group? I’m fairly certain they’ve already been called.”

“I’ll handle them.” As with every other organization within Spain, I had at least one high-ranking individual in my pocket. “Continue searching for the person responsible for slaughtering Julio Morales.”

“It would seem at least one of the people in the group of armed men was found.”

I cocked my head. “How do you know that?”

“The fucker had his head severed. His body was outside our gates with a note attached.”