Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“You’ve never been with the same woman twice, and all of that changes for her? I get she’s fucking hot with nice tits, but—”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
He raised his hand slightly then brought it down, like that would somehow decrease my ire. “I just don’t want you to get fucked over, man. That’s all. It’s obvious this means more to you than it does to her because you’re just a rebound.”
I gave a quiet chuckle. “I’m not the rebound, Luca. I’m the gold fucking stallion.”
“I can read people damn well. That’s why no one will deal me in to poker anymore. And I see distance and restraint from her.”
“You met her one time when she was ambushed by you idiots, and you think you know her?” I asked incredulously. “I know you’re my boy and you’re just looking out for me, but you need to step the fuck off, Luca.”
He turned quiet and didn’t continue to hound me with his ill opinion. He sat there and drank from his glass and let the tension start as a simmer and turn to a boil. It turned to steam and made the air humid.
He changed the subject. “I’ve asked my contacts about Godric. He doesn’t sit still very long.”
“I know.”
“The longer he runs his game, the more he corrupts his order—”
“I know, Luca.” My fingers rested around my glass.
“There’s gotta be something.”
I inhaled a slow breath. “I asked my mother.” There was a separation of church and state, and I’d always honored it. Godric and I had very different interpretations of business and the law, and my mother refused to choose sides and favorites. She raised us to be this way, so she accepted our beliefs equally. But now, I needed her help if I was ever going to resolve it.
Luca stared at me for a long time, his hand on the glass without lifting it for a drink. “What did she say?”
“She’ll think about it…”
He gave a slow nod. “You think that will work?”
“I don’t fucking know, man. It’s been a long time since I talked to him.”
“Even if she agrees, he probably won’t.”
“Right.” I took a drink from my glass, and now, there was nothing but ice cubes left behind.
He faced the bar and the mirror and drank in silence.
We sat there together, both of us thinking about the thorn in our sides, the man I called my brother.
Then my phone vibrated with a text. It could be anyone because my phone went off all hours of the night, but there was only one person I hoped it would be. I’d just seen her this morning, but I wouldn’t mind coming home to her in my bed, her legs wrapped around my waist while she whispered my name.
But it was my mother. I’ll do it.
It was ten in the evening when my driver pulled up to the gates.
My heart was still, my pulse steady. I was on the precipice of what I wanted, but I knew just because it was close didn’t mean it was within my grasp. This meeting could have the opposite effect I desired—and just make things worse.
I checked in with her security and was led into the house.
She warned me that the element of surprise would only last a minute because his security would inform him of my arrival before I reached the dining room. Instead of being a polite guest and waiting for the butler to escort me, I walked myself through the house to the dining room located at the back.
I heard my mother’s quiet laugh before I rounded the corner.
He was at the head of the table like it was his fucking house, blond hair and blue eyes. He sprang into action right away, rising to his feet and pulling his gun out of the back of his jeans and aiming at me within a second. The laughter and merriment of dinner quickly evaporated when the tension set in. Music played from the sound system, but it was masked by the tension.
I’d honored my mother’s request and had come unarmed, but he had no such honor.
“Godric.” Mother rose to her feet and pressed her hand down on his arm.
It didn’t budge. In fact, he cocked it.
She gripped the opening of the barrel. “Put it down.”
My brother’s face was contorted in restrained rage, treating me like a hit man who’d murdered his entire family for a cheap paycheck. He had a structured jawline like I did, the same eyes. There was no doubt we were of the same parentage. After a furious standoff, he lowered the gun.
Mother twisted it from his fingers and confiscated it before clicking the safety. “Bring a gun to dinner again, and I’ll bend you over my knee and spank you like a child.” She slammed the gun onto the table next to her soup bowl. The table was long enough to fit fifteen guests comfortably, but it was just the two of them together near the window.