Brutal King (The Seven Deadly Sinacores #7)

Chapter 15

15

GIDEON

The men that killed my mother were notorious and powerful. No one dared go against them for fear of retaliation. All the while, Father reassured me the time would come, when he’d gain enough power to enact his revenge.

“We must be patient,” he’d told me. “If we strike before we’re ready, we will fail.”

“But you’re powerful,” I said. “You’re strong.”

“Physically, perhaps. But it will take a lot more than that to succeed against these men.” He tapped a finger against his head. “It takes brains. Strategy. When I take them down, it will be in their totality. There will be no one left to come after me. And then, everything will be right.”

I t’s taking too long. Arran is enjoying his time with Skye, and she is obviously too. There’s been no word for a week, nothing to indicate that she’s working on finding the location of his father.

Patience is a virtue, but the years of planning and waiting have taken their toll. I often recall the freedom and joy my Father expressed after killing my mother’s murderers. How the weight of the world seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders.

I want that.

After Clive Maxton is dead, there will be only one remaining of the original six that betrayed my father. I can feel the end within reach. Once they’re all dead, Father’s death will have been avenged and I will be able to… Live.

Perhaps, given enough time, Skye would be able to complete her task. But there’s a real possibility that this could drag on beyond what I’m willing to wait. I need to accelerate the situation, and it seems brute force is the only way to do that.

Wesley Ritter informed me that he has it on good authority Arran and his new acquisition will be present at the Maxton Pierce Auction House tonight. He has plans on meeting Michael Williams, one of Maxton Holdings’ largest clients.

“I need a way in,” I tell Vicky.

I hear her typing away. “Their security is tighter than Fort Knox.”

“Can you do it?”

“Of course I can. I’m just saying, give me a minute.” She hums as she works her hacker magic. “Okay, I got a list of guests for tonight. Hmm.”

“What?”

“I can’t add anyone. Damn, whoever Maxton has on his security team is good. But...” There are a few quick strokes of her laptop keys. “There. Congratulations. You are now the face of Michael Williams. I’ll send you all the information you’ll need to pass for him.”

“You’re amazing.”

“No need for flattery,” she says. “Just money.”

“Send Scarlet the invoice.”

I find Sofia lounging on the new couch that was just brought in last night. Unfortunately, the blood stain couldn’t be removed from the other one. As much as I love the reminder that I was the first man to ever touch her, she avoided it. Not wanting to make her world smaller, I decided to replace it.

“You approve?” I ask her.

She glances up from one of the books she pilfered from the library. “It’s comfortable enough, though the leather is chilly.”

“It’s also wipes clean, if we were to make another mess.”

Her cheeks flush at my suggestion that I’ll fuck her here again. “Are you going somewhere?” she asks, pointing at the small luggage by my side.

“For two nights, three at most. Business.”

“Not in New York, I hope.” The worry in her gaze is palpable.

“In Philadelphia.”

“Ferryman business?”

“It’s all Ferryman business, Sofia. But I promised not to go after your brother.”

“As long as I keep you entertained,” she retorts.

“You have no reason to worry. You keep me very entertained. I promise.” I smile and lean down to capture her lips in a slow good-bye. She doesn’t turn or avoid my kiss. To my delight, she parts her lips in invitation for my tongue. I slide it across hers, tasting her, before pulling away. “Be good, Little Bird.”

Making sure she doesn’t sneak behind me, I leave, not in the helicopter this time, but through the garage.

Dressed in my black tailored Versace, I arrive at the underground club hidden among shops and eateries in Philadelphia.

The Maxton Pierce Auction House, so named after Clive Maxton and his partner, Miles Pierce, is home to millions of dollars’ worth of illegally acquired artifacts.

I pass through the highly guarded “front door” without a hitch. No one questions my presence in the prestigious underground establishment. Why would they? I fit right in.

Just in case, I have set up security measures. Insurance, in the way of fifteen of my men within close proximity should a battle ensue. However, it shouldn’t come to that, not with Ituski holding Arran’s office assistant, Devon, as collateral.

“This way, sir.” The young hostess greets me. I’m guided to a private booth at the far end of the auction hall. “Mr. Maxton will be arriving shortly. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?”

“A bottle of your most expensive red. On the house, of course.” I wink.

She blushes and nods. “Of course.”

The moment she’s out of sight, I get a call from Scarlet. “Devices charged and ready.”

“And the staff?”

“Evicted.”

“Good. Move out, but leave one post. Inform me if anyone enters the house.”

“Yes, sir.”

Part two of my plan is ready. Now all I need is the first part of that plan to arrive. Ah, and there he is. I thought I felt a hard stare on the back of my neck.

“Hello, Arran.” I greet him with a friendly smile he doesn’t seem to approve of. It’s probably because he was expecting to see Michael Williams seated here waiting for him. Instead he finds a total stranger.

My gaze turns to the woman on his arm. Unlike him, Skye recognizes me immediately and stiffens. She glances between the two of us, seemingly unsure of what to say or too afraid to say something that will give her away as one of my spies.

Mistaking her reaction for fear of me, Arran angles his body to shield her. “Who the fuck are you ?”

“Have a seat and I’ll tell you,” I say, making sure my smile remains in place. It would do no good to start off on the wrong foot.

“Better yet, I’ll have you escorted out of my damned club and you can tell my guards who you are.”

I narrow my gaze. “Aren’t you curious as to how I made it through your secure doors and all the way to your table in the first place?” I tut. “Your guards don’t pose a threat to me. So unless you want a massacre, I suggest you sit your ass in that chair so that we can have a discussion like civilized men.”

He scans the club to confirm that no one on his security detail is concerned that there might be an intruder amongst them. When he faces me again, his eyes are dark and filled with fury. I extend my hand to him. He shakes it with a hard-enough squeeze that were I a weak man, I’d buckle.

I return his powerful shake with one of my own, and grin. “Nice to finally meet you, Arran.”

“How did you get in?”

“I have my ways. And just in case you’re considering taking me out, know that I never do anything without an insurance policy.” I glance casually toward Skye, and she trembles visibly. “Devon says hello, by the way.”

“He’s just a secretary,” Arran says.

“One whose life you value.” If he doesn’t, I’ve lost my touch on reading people.

“Where is he?”

I grin wider. Just as I thought. He cares. “He’ll be back at the office, safe and sound, tomorrow morning.”

Arran’s sharp jaw clenches and he tears his hand from mine. My smile turns smug, not on purpose, but simply from knowing I have the advantage here. I wouldn’t have bothered coming if it had been different.

Skye presses in closer to Arran and I shift my attention to her. “And you are?”

She’s stiff as a board, but plays along and accepts my hand in greeting. “Skye.”

“Very nice to meet you, Skye.” I hold onto her hand a little longer than I should. It’s a test. Something to help me determine exactly what she is to Arran.

“Enough!” he hisses. There’s menace and a very clear warning in his tone.

Perfect.

With a laugh, I release her. “Why don’t you two sit and have a chat with me. I promise not to take too much of your time.”

He pauses to consider it for only a moment before realizing there’s no other choice. Pulling out the chair next to him, he motions for Skye to sit.

“Your business is with me,” Arran says when he catches me watching Skye. “Not my date.”

“Is it?”

“It fucking better be.” He places a protective hand over hers. “What do you want?”

I scan my surroundings. “Really nice place you have here, Arran. I must say, I’ve heard wonderful things and have been meaning to visit. I was just waiting for the invitation.”

“Cut the bullshit. What do you want?”

“Wow,” I say with mock dismay. Then I show him the ruby ring on my small finger. “Is this how you treat all your customers?”

He glances at the Maxton House ring, a key given to those invited here, probably wondering how I got it. Lucky for me, Scarlet is as good at thieving as she is at killing.

“You’re not a customer,” he snaps. “You’re an unwelcome fly in my soup. So say what you want and get the fuck out.”

Ouch. Childish insults are fun, but I’m beyond that now. I look to Skye, who’s staring at me wide-eyed and visibly disturbed by my presence.

You took too long , I tell her with my gaze.

Don’t hurt my sister. I need more time! she implores with hers.

The server returns with the bottle of wine I ordered earlier and proceeds to pour some. Arran’s eyes narrow into angry slits. When she comes to his glass, he stops her. “When was the last time you saw me drink wine?”

The waitress seems stunned for a moment. “Whiskey. You prefer whiskey. I’ll be right back with that, sir.”

“That was my bad,” I offer in apology. “I assumed you’d have good taste.”

“That’s because you’re an ass,” he informs me.

“What about you, my dear?” I ask Skye. “What do you prefer to drink?”

She looks between us, then says, “Water.”

I chuckle. “Is that what you prefer, or does your master have to tell you?”

Arran leans into her. He whispers something in her ear I can’t make out, but she nods, then with one last glance at me, gets up. “Please excuse me. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

He watches her until she disappears down a hall.

When he turns back to me, I say, “She’s Thomas Cameron’s daughter, isn’t she?”

The question is left unanswered. Instead, he peers at me over the edge of his whiskey glass. I peer back.

We’re just two powerful men sizing each other up, playing some game of chicken. Though I know who will lose, I’m the sporting sort and play anyway.

“So tell me. How much money does a place like this bring in?” I finally ask.

“I’m sure you’ve already investigated that yourself.”

“Some.” Of course I have. Maxton House and Asta form a billion-dollar empire.

“Are you ever going to get to the point, Gideon? What are you doing here?”

My smile vanishes. “I’ve gotten to the point many times, actually. Didn’t you receive my letters? I want to know where Clive is.”

“You are out of your fucking mind if you believe I’d give him to you.” He takes a calm drink, though I know he’s anything but.

“Even when you know I have Devon?”

“No one is worth my father’s life, Gideon. You’re wasting your time.”

Amusement pulls at my lips. “Are you so sure about that?”

He frowns as he tries to understand what I’m insinuating. Perhaps Devon isn’t worth his father’s life. But there may be someone else.

Tapping a finger against his glass, he says, “Let’s say I did tell you where he is. Then what? You kill him, and let me live in peace?”

“Only if you agree to shut down all of Maxton’s underground operations. You can still keep Maxton Holdings, but I want Maxton House and Asta shut down.” I want all those millions of dollars, tainted with the blood of my father, to sink into the bottom of Lake Michigan where they threw his body.

The lights dim overhead, letting everyone in the hall know that the bidding is about to begin. Time’s running out.

Something behind me catches Arran’s attention. His brother. I saw him too, when I first came in.

“Why me?” Arran sits back in his seat. “Landon is next in line. He’s right over there. Why not harass him over this and leave me alone?”

“He’s useless. That boy probably has no idea where his own dick is, much less his father.” That was determined early on, when I first learned about the families. Who is in control, who is just there to spend money.

“You should know, I’d burn down the entire Maxton empire before I shut down Maxton House and Asta,” he says, but his eyes are still on his brother, who has just gotten up and is heading in the same direction Skye went. Interesting.

“Because those are what have given you power,” I reply. “Power that Clive used to take down my father.” He doesn’t say anything. Instead, his gaze remains distant, his brows pinched tightly together. “Arran, you seem distracted.”

“You know my answer.” He looks back at me. “You knew it before you came, so it’s beyond me why you bothered. I’ll never give up my father, and I’ll never give up the auction houses.”

“And you know that eventually, I will find Clive. You’ll be next.” The cards are laid out plain for him to see.

Arran understands the risks and has made up his mind. He downs his whiskey and gets to his feet. “Since you’ve made it clear I can’t take you out tonight, enjoy your stay at Maxton House. I expect Devon at work first thing tomorrow morning. If he isn’t there, you will actively be sought out and killed.”

I nod. “You’ll have your man back. Don’t worry.”

With that, Arran leaves me to chase after his brother. Or Skye. I’m not sure. By the murderous expression on his face, I can tell that whatever’s happening is about to come to an abrupt end.

“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Williams?” the server asks.

“No, thank you.” I tug out a few hundred dollar bills and hand them to her. “I’ve got other plans tonight.”

An hour later, I’m parked a short distance from an expensive brownstone in Rittenhouse Square. It’s dark, not a single light turned on.

A black car rounds the bend. The driver parks the car up front. He exits the vehicle and opens the side door. Arran steps out, then extends his hand to Skye to assist her.

Frank says something to Arran, and he nods. Then, he comes around the car and, sliding in behind the wheel, begins down the road.

I pull out the small innocuous thing I’ve been carrying in my pocket. It’s something easily confused with a key fob, except for the single red button.

Arran pauses on his way into the house. Things are wrong, he can tell. Skye says something and he replies. His arm goes out and he yanks her back. And that’s my cue.

I press the button and blow up his house.