To Catch A Rook (All The Queen’s Men #1)

19. Chapter 16 – Hillary

“ O ver here, Ms. Lane.”

A balding man with watery eyes dressed in an impeccably pressed tuxedo led me into the ballroom of the Waldorf Estate. The grand room was bathed in the warm glow of gold paint, delicate crystals, and ancient tapestries of long-lost empires that cost as much as a small country’s annual GDP.

Jediah Waldorf was the wealthiest man in the state, his inheritance and subsequent hotel empire rivaling mine. The entire home was lined with opulence and laced with exorbitance, but none of the tawdry exhibitions on display here tonight were likely to impress me.

The historic building held all sorts of treasures, but despite its familiarity, I detested the place. My childhood memories of coming here were cold, unfeeling ventures in dodging men with wandering eyes and boys with wandering hands.

Being born into the world as a blonde, blue-eyed little girl with an eventual Barbie figure had made me the enticing target of unwanted affections. Daddy didn’t pay them much attention, but I had mastered my death stare long before I hit puberty, which usually kept the wolves at bay.

Until I became the wolf. It only took baring my teeth one time for all suggestive behavior to stop entirely.

Well, teeth, a well-aimed knee to the scrotum, and a forceful punch to the solar plexus. It was my first real-world Krav Maga experience, though I wouldn’t start my actual training until years later.

One moment in your life can change the entire course of your existence. When I fought back, and fought back hard, I’d set a limit and sent a message. So much so, I’d tricked myself into a false sense of security—I conned myself into believing I could protect everyone around me too.

It was the hardest lesson I’d ever learned. A mistake I was still trying to atone for. I shook the suffocating thoughts aside. Now wasn’t the time to be brooding about the past.

My eyes scanned the room, assessing the growing number of guests in their formal wear. My gaze caught on the unmistakably muscled form of a large man in a deep blue, perfectly tailored pinstriped suit. Even from a fifty-foot distance, Kellan could take a woman’s breath away.

His hair was down this evening, landing just below his shoulder blades. The windswept style framed his high cheekb ones and brought out the reddish undertones in the stubble that smoothed out his firm jaw. He was speaking to a woman I didn’t recognize; a stunning brunette dressed in a revealing emerald gown, their heads bowed together like they were sharing a delicious secret.

Of course, I should have expected he’d be here. Only a few privileged people knew about Kellan’s dual alliances; anyone in this crowd would know him as a key player in a powerful network of black-market businesses, not as an equally powerful member of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

I tamped down the uncomfortable feeling of jealousy masking as annoyance and turned around to scope out the other end of the vast luxurious space.

Surprise immediately replaced my irritation. Jonah and Mical Carlos, Kellan’s twin brothers, and the current operators of the Carlos Cartel in our region, sat stone-faced as usual at a nearby table. An animated, attractive Latino man was attempting to engage them in conversation, but getting not even a single murmur of response.

I snorted. I had experienced the twins at their most charming at past dinners. Like Kellan, they were highly trained, lethal soldiers; dangerous men in pretty packaging. Unlike Kellan, they were more than willing to carry out Big Bad Daddy’s orders without question or context, and had a vicious trail of bodies in their wake to prove it.

I generally steered clear of them. I had no idea why they’d be here this evening when Kellan was already here to represent ‘the family’, but Antonio Carlos and his merry band of illegitimate sons weren’t my problem to solve or my crusade to carry; I had larger dicks to chop off in this town. Had Daddy not been best friends with a dead Carlos son, I might never have gotten involved with Kellan in the first place.

Some days, I wished I never had.

“ Ms. Lane?”

The geriatric guide looked at me expectantly. He pointed a gnarled finger at the empty seat in front of him. My name was written in elegant script at the place setting.

“Yes, thank you.” I nodded brusquely and placed my clutch against the bone China dishware, effectively dismissing my escort.

“ Mi Reina .”

The familiar, soothing scent of sandalwood and vanilla blanketed me from behind; Aaron.

Large hands skated up my bare arms and spun me around, pulling me toward him for a light, perfunctory hug.

In a crowded room filled with career criminals, I could lean into his touch without repercussion. I could caress him like a lover; no one would bat an eye. The depraved part of me wanted to mark him in the middle of the crowd; claim him.

I pulled back and took in the man. The crisp gray suit molded to every peak and valley of his body, highlighting developed shoulders and a narrow waist. His hair was loose and combed to one side and the dark natural waves framed his cheekbones. Captivating brown eyes peered back at me, twinkling with muted amusement.

“Have you forgiven me, Mi Reina ? Or am I still on your chopping block?”

“Another unfortunate soul has taken that position.” I quipped, working hard to keep the smile off my lips. “You’re relieved for today.”

A rare, heart-faltering grin took over the brooding businessman’s face. “I pity that man.”

He moved to pull my chair out from the table, gesturing for me to sit.

“You don’t want to speak to these people, anyway.” He nodded to the crowd swelling on all sides. “Come, we have business to discuss.”

I f rowned, but took the seat anyway as the Rodriguez heir settled in beside me. He angled his body to face mine, leaning in like we were sharing secrets.

“My parents and I are at an impasse,” he murmured while his fingers discreetly caressed the soft skin of my shoulder. “I am working out the particulars on my end, but they are shifting alliances.”

He reached for my chin, using his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head to meet his eyes. Warm, honest eyes.

“I have given you my loyalty, Reina. Trust whatever it is I have nothing to do with it.”

It was rare to see Aaron let his guard down like this, to allow me to see directly into his soul, whatever remained of it. He was usually clinical in these kinds of crowds. Incredibly charming when the cause suited, but mostly aloof, unattached to life in ways that most of us were.

He had called me his ‘queen’ since we were fourteen, but only ever in private. My arranged marriage had been a poorly guarded secret, so through our childhoods, we’d been nothing more than familiar teenagers at our parents’ parties, playing our parts as dutiful heirs.

The first time I had sex with him, I’d just returned home from college desperate for a release and to escape my haunted memories. We played our perfunctory roles for the better part of the evening, but what I remembered most was he’d been happy–a gold spark in his eye that rarely took hold, and it had changed his entire appeal.

I’d kissed him in the limo we’d opted to share to get us home; he kissed me back without a fraction of hesitation, and we didn’t make it out of the car before abandoning our clothes and fucking like we were the last two people on earth.

Whether it was the years of brothel management or a natural affinity, Aaron was amazing in bed.

Som ehow, over the years, we’d remained that way. Never together, but somehow, never truly apart.

Now looking into the unfiltered truth in deep pooling brown, I believed him. If Aaron was telling me anything at all about his parents’ dealings, it was a move in the right direction, for our partnership. Our future.

I had received the completed paperwork earlier that afternoon. Despite the public protests and familial interference, all of our previously agreed-to terms were signed off. It would have given me a catty sense of satisfaction, but the entire delay had unnecessarily put a wedge between us. With so few friends in this world, I didn’t want another enemy.

So, I hadn’t lied. Aaron was currently off my shit list. But it was an ever-changing list and today’s version had no bearing on tomorrow’s status.

He’d do well to remember it.

“Hillary!”

Jediah’s simpering tenor snapped me out of the conversation before I could even acknowledge the reparation. His ingratiating voice injected steel into my spine and I drew in a breath so that I too could spew the same bullshit.

“Jediah!” I plastered on my most seasoned smile and stood to give the five-foot-six man a stilted hug. “What a wonderful turnout this evening.”

A conceited sneer rivaling the Cheshire Cat smiled back at me, and I stifled the urge to smack it off his face.

“So lovely to see you again, darling.” He turned to face Aaron, who had moved to stand beside me in silent partnership. “So good to see you, son. I look forward to sharing your family’s announcement later this evening. The power players—they are shifting! And ah!”

The giddy host spotted someone behind us and waved them over. “There is someone I’d like y ou to meet.”

I didn’t shift my stance to see who it was. Anyone I needed or wanted to know at these particular gatherings, I had already met. Aaron and I exchanged a look of mutual distaste for another introduction, but I prepared my most saccharine smile to get the encounter over with.

“Oy’, Jed!”

The resonance of the Irish lilt was unmistakable. Lauchlan O’Donnell, in the very flesh, had received an invite to an elite, private gathering of the wealthy from Jediah Waldorf himself.

Tasty thoughts of the debauchery in my living room the other night rose to the surface, and I could feel my core heating from the memories. Nothing got me off more than the ability to incapacitate a man through his own pleasure. By his submission or my servitude was irrelevant; through either mechanism, I was the one in full control. I relished it.

The way he had taken ownership of my control, how deeply he’d leaned into it … I tamped the feelings down as quickly as they had come. Lauchlan was a new sort of control for me now.

He appeared a second later, and I assessed him under a new lens with my latest information. His unruly auburn hair was combed away from his face and the stubble across his cheeks and chin had been finely trimmed into a roguish shadow. His muscular body fit his light blue suit nicely, bringing out the deeper greens and flecks of gold in his eyes.

Even at a quick glance, he had the natural ability to stand out from the crowd, but also blended in seamlessly, as if you’d only noticed him because he wanted you to. He held himself casually, non-threateningly, with a detached confidence that appeared safe.

All masterful traits for swindling the masses.

Pouty lips broke out into a cheeky grin as he likely assumed I was checking him out instead of eyeing up an opponent .

Just you wait, my little rook.

“Have you met Lauchlan? He’s new in town, but comes from a very established Galway family. I’m sure he’ll be making a name for himself here in no time.”

Lauchlan took my hand with a flourish and discreetly stroked the underside of my palm with his thumb. The subtle gesture sprouted more tingling in my belly. Another tamp down.

I dropped his hand and smiled surreptitiously. “We’ve met, yes.”

The Irish swindler’s sea-glass eyes flared with heat before a swift blink wiped all desire away. A quick wink and flash of perfect teeth followed, veiling his interest as mostly professional.

I’d never pegged a business associate to seal a deal, but we could certainly keep up appearances.

Aaron draped a casual arm around my back and I stifled a bark of laughter at the obvious territorial move. All the money and intellect in the world, and the man was, at his core, still a Neanderthal.

I gently pulled away from his grasp and beckoned for Lauchlan to sit across the table from us.

“Take a seat.” I echoed the words from our previous night in a dramatically different context. The charming con artist didn’t miss the reference and grinned impishly, batting the name card of an ‘Ira Robinson’ off of his chosen place setting before he unbuttoned his suit jacket to settle in at our table.

Aaron shot me a begrudging look, the muscle of his sharp, stubbled jaw pulsing in irritation as he pulled out my seat again, taking his place beside me with a huff.

Jediah clapped his hands together, gold bracelets on both wrists rattling in time to his movements. “Wonderful! I’ll leave you to it.”

The garish man trotted away, spying another unwitting victim among the masses.

My gaze trailed after him, curious what he was up to. Our opportunistic host wasn’t ‘introducing’ Lauchlan to us as a point of practiced pleasantries. Why was he placing an apparently skilled career criminal in our sights? Successful criminals built their reputations through a well-honed network—was Jediah one of his contacts?

If he was, Lauchlan had more roots on American soil than I originally thought.

I turned my attention back to the men at my table. The silent pissing contest between a set of dancing green eyes and glowering brown ones filled the air with the thick fog of testosterone and stupidity.

My perfectly polished smile held in place while I inwardly cackled at the fun this night was turning out to be. Jediah’s parties were normally a predictable snooze of well-timed barbs and the trading of illicit information—snooze fests I needed to attend to keep a pulse on the ever-changing landscape of power. This palpable masculine tension was a scream in comparison.

“How did you two meet?”

Aaron’s authoritative tenor crackled in the air between us, and I offered him nothing but a coy smile.

“Do you remember the friend I mentioned when I ran into you at Quintessence? The meeting you ‘forgot’ to invite me to?” I dipped my head toward Lauchlan’s beaming smirk as he took a sip of wine from the crystal goblet set in front of him. “Lucky and I were just having a drink. Getting to know each other.” I shrugged dismissively. “I discovered he doesn’t like choking nearly as much as some men.”

The smirk transformed into choked coughs as wine sprayed from Lauchlan’s lips to cover the plate in front of him.

My flippant taunts weren’t meant to wound—they had just enough bite to cause a mild sting; a sting Aaron could more than handle, and dish out, on a good day. Today, his glowering blossomed into a sanctimonious sneer, the perfect replica of his father.

“Perhaps he has never been properly choked.”

The energy of one of the most powerful men on this side of the country rolled off him in waves as he stared through the still smirking Irishman as if his eyes could set him on fire. “I’ll give you a pass to my club, my friend. My employees will attend to your most interesting proclivities.”

Lauchlan’s smile was innocent, but his eyes held a wickedness I would one day use against him.

“No need, mate. I’ve found the perfect person to satisfy my”—he moved his fingers into air quotes and raised the pitch of his voice in a mocking tone—“'proclivities'. But I hope you get a real good choking some day soon, yeah? Might loosen that stick out of your arse—”

“Lauchlan,” I interrupted coolly before Aaron could grind his teeth into a curb. “I never caught what you do for a living?”

Glossy green eyes turned their gaze back to me, and I just caught the glimpse of the roiling depths within them before they shuttered back to their brilliant hue.

“Tech, love. I’m in tech.”

Smoothly delivered, vague, and uninteresting. How practiced.

“I’ve never fully understood what that means.” I turned to the simmering man beside me and gently squeezed his bicep. “Have you, Aaron? Do you know what being ‘in tech’ means?”

The chestnut lashes of the Colombian man’s eyes rose with darkly amused interest as I cut through the tension radiating from his core. “At the risk of sounding ignorant, I do not know what”—he mimed his own air quotes mockingly—“'being in tech' means.”

Kellan’s ill-timed interruption saved the suave Irishman with his rehearsed lines.

The Viking had finally found me—his piercing blue gaze locked onto mine like a missile and his massive form lumbered toward our table.

“Hillary.” He nodded curtly to Aaron, his gaze not breaking from mine for a second. “Rodriguez.”

Lauchlan stood and held a hand out to Kellan. “Lauchlan O'Donnell, mate. Heard lots of rumors about the big baddies on this side of the pond. Looking forward to getting acquainted.”

Kellan finally broke our silent staring contest to turn toward our cheeky guest, his limbs visibly freezing on the spot as he took Lauchlan in. His icy stare squinted—the barest hint of recognition flashing before he adopted the signature neutral mask of the true cartel leader he was.

“I don’t shake hands.” He positioned his body away from Lauchlan by taking the other seat on my left, boxing me between him and Aaron.

“Don’t do a lot of things, ay?”

There it was again—the smallest flicker of acknowledgment across Kellan’s features. Well, wasn’t this a tasty nugget of information? Was I Lauchlan’s only target, or was he casing our fair little town of the rich and famous?

If he was reckless enough to swindle Antonio’s sons, he was far more dangerous than I realized. I’d get Blackbird to up her surveillance.

I turned my attention back to the moody King of Iceland.

“How nice to see you.” I kept my tone level, folding my arms across my chest. “Does this mean your tantrum is over, or will I wait another six months like the last time?”

Aar on didn’t bother to muffle his snort; Lauchlan’s lips twitched into an amused smirk. The searing singe from Kellan’s glare may have burned a lesser person—but it barely tickled my funny bone.

Before he could bite out a snarky retort, the abrupt clang of a ceremonious gong sounded from a small platform built at the front of the large room, signaling the standing guests to take their seats.

“Thank you all for coming this evening.” Veronica Rodriguez’s smooth Spanish accent washed over the audience as she took her position at the podium on the platform.

The stunning woman reminded me of Sofia Vergara; she too was Columbian, with a temperate grace and the body of a supermodel. Whereas Sofia seemed very genuine and sweet in all of her interviews, Veronica was oleander in human form; beautiful to look at, deadly poison to touch.

I had touched her once, back when I believed pretty things had pretty souls. Some of our most valuable lessons were the hardest to learn.

The toxic woman surveyed the crowd with a serene smile and continued. “I am pleased to be here with Vicente, and I’d like to thank Jediah for hosting us in his beautiful home once again.”

Polite applause broke out around us. Aaron stiffened beside me, his taut body vibrating with anticipation. I slid my hand onto his thigh under the table and squeezed his molded quad in solidarity.

Whatever our differences and whatever our future, I couldn’t let him face a family betrayal alone. I knew how deep that wound would run, how cancerous that tissue was.

“Before we get started, Vicente and I have some news to share with you before we go public to the world tomorrow.”

“Rodriguez Industries is taking a fresh course into the future. Our son, Aaron, has taken our subsidiary in a differ ent direction—one we wish him well on, but want no part in. Tomorrow, Rodriguez Industries will be united with our largest South American competitor, Predrolas. We are thrilled to partner with Alejandro Alvarez and his sons.”

A low murmur rippled through the tables around us as she carried on.

“This acquisition will make us the highest valued company in the state, the fourth largest in America. We hope you’ll continue to work with us on our many … endeavors.”

Even from this distance, I could sense the knowing glint in her eye, as she’d just subtly invited the morally gray crowd to continue to support their underground activities.

This acquisition would rival the size of Aaron’s and my new company, but that was hardly something I cared about. I didn’t need to be the ‘best’, the ‘biggest’—that was for egotistical men who constantly needed to measure their dick to justify their own existence. We were very good at what we did and would continue to be so, Veronica and her simpering pomp aside.

But Alejandro Alvarez … ‘coincidence’ was a word people used to tidily package up things they didn’t understand. I didn’t believe in coincidences.

Jediah had taken the podium now, but the men seated around my table snared my attention.

Lauchlan—not his real name—O’Donnell, the con-artist heir who was, in theory, attempting to swindle me out of my fortune, looked more curious than conflicted as he watched the buzzing crowd with interest.

Kellan Carlos, the heir to the Cartel throne and FBI crusader. His ticking jaw and wrathful scowl looked like he could crack a skull at the recent announcement. I didn’t need to know all the ins and outs of the Carlos Cartel empire to know this move would give Alvarez an advantage in taking over territory.

Aar on Rodriguez, the billionaire heir to a family company who dabbled in the dirty, depraved side of the rich and famous, had been ousted by his parents in a public display of denouncement—because of the choices he made with me.

And me—heiress, mogul, and self-appointed vigilante, who would protect innocent girls and women at any cost. Which meant I now had a very vested interest in Alejandro Alvarez.

I blew out a breath, then inhaled a renewed sense of purpose for the days ahead.

I would figure out what Kellan was hiding from me.

I would make Lauchlan regret his decision to target me.

I would dig into the debauched deeds of the Rodriguez family and expose them as the sex-trafficking scum of the earth they were. In my heart, I had to believe Aaron wasn’t a part of it, but if he was … well, my vengeance spared no one.

It was a good thing gray was my color, because we were about to be wearing a whole lot of it.