8. Andre
ANDRE
I slung the glass across the room, feeling moderately better as it shattered into a thousand shards. Vicente’s people would be cleaning that up for days. With any luck, he’d walk around his study barefoot and slice himself.
“Andre,” Grey slurred, raising his glass of rum cheerfully. “How was I supposed to know they’d be pussies about it?”
Spearing Grey with a heated glare, I silently urged him to shut the fuck up.
The tallest of us all, he was an imposing figure.
The man was pure cut muscle, if a little on the lean side, and never skipped days in the ring.
He loved and excelled at it, which was why Vicente had him over that particular faction.
Now he only fought when he wanted to, which was more often than Vicente probably wanted.
Most of the time, Grey was a cold bastard. I didn’t even care about the irony of using that word. The entire situation had me so fucked up in my anger I was seeing red.
Any other time, he would glare and sneer at anyone who approached him, but he was a happy drunk. A fucking happy drunk I could happily kill right now for putting us in this position. All for a wager…
How was I supposed to save his ass this time? Better question, how had I gotten any of these idiots to adulthood?
“Leave him alone, Andre. Vicente isn’t going to actually follow through with it, and you know it. If for nothing else, Grey’s too valuable to him,” Parker said lightly as he scrolled through his phone.
Ah, my baby brother. He was just as bad as Grey. Only, his brand of crazy was more dangerous than Grey’s. Where Grey wore his psycho on his chest, Parker held his close, not letting onto any of his crazy schemes until he’d fucked people over sideways and made them beg for it.
“I don’t think you fucking realize what’s happening here,” I stopped my pacing to yell at him. Gripping my hair, I welcomed the brief shock of pain. We were fucked, and the best I could hope for was to believe that Grey knew what he was doing.
“I don’t?” Parker asked drily while Grey snickered. “Bruno is the most recognized fighter in the underground world. Only takes fights to the death. I realize what Vicente is trying to do and it’s a scare tactic.”
“You want to take that chance?” I could barter something with Vicente. He always enjoyed it when I needed to save their asses. He liked it even better when I had to grovel and crawl on my knees.
“You don’t have any faith in me, hermano ?” Grey’s sloppy grin did nothing to cool my ire.
“In a regular fight, yes. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen.
But Bruno only fights to the death, and V only sets him up with people he wants gone from the Institution.
You might have pushed him one too many times on this.
” I shook my head and resumed pacing. “I watched him send out the announcement. One of his enforcers against Bruno? The bets have already started rolling in, and the fight is still two months away. The money alone means he won’t be able to cancel it. He won’t want to.”
Grey tilted his head, still wearing that silly ass grin. “Then I guess I better win. Don’t worry, I’ll train hard. Harder than I already do. Mia will bring in the best fighters for me once she hears about it.”
“Mia’s always had a soft spot for you.” Parker scowled at Grey, his voice deepening in irritation.
Of course, he would be angry with Grey for that.
They were best friends, and Grey swooped in and made her his fuck buddy.
That particular relationship was long in the past, but Grey somehow managed to retain a friendship with her.
It had chafed Parker’s ass ever since, the territorial fuck.
“I know.” Grey grinned.
“The plane will be ready soon. Grey, stay here and don’t start any more fights. I don’t care who walks through that door. Parker, you’re responsible for keeping him in line. I need to go check on a few things, and then we’ll be able to leave.”
I walked over to Grey and looked over his back to make sure it had quit bleeding. He was lucky Marco had been on an errand for Vincente. Otherwise, he would have flayed his back open, not leaving a strip of skin.
“It stopped bleeding with only a few lashes where the skin broke,” I murmured.
"Yes, Vicente’s backup torture master has some things to learn, doesn’t he? His striking arm is a bit weak.” Parker snickered.
“Laugh it up. Who knows what I’ll have to do to keep Grey off of the whipping post again,” I muttered more to myself than to them. Leaving them in the study wasn’t ideal. Anyone could walk in, and Grey had no friends here. Parker was a wildcard if he’d help him or not, so I better make this quick.
The mansion where Vicente ran his operations was precisely what most people would think of when given the words luxury and status. There were many different floors, wings, and paths through the five-hundred-acre property.
Twenty-foot ceilings were standard in the public spaces, with windows nearly as tall. Vicente was more of a modern man than a classical one, so almost every aspect of his mansion was clean and sharp. Even the artwork he loved to put on display was basic yet cost a small fortune.
Like that painting right there by the Gallery entrance. Two blurry black circles overlapped each other on a gray canvas so light it was nearly white. The only reason I knew it had any color was because it was framed on a stark white wall. Two Lovers in Paradise.
Fuck. The title was a complete farce in this mansion. There were no great love stories. More like horror endings.
I reached the Gallery as the tall, wide double doors slowly opened. It was too theatrical to take seriously, but Vicente had rigged most of the mansion with this type of technology. Not that motion sensors were high-tech, but for here it was ridiculous.
Garbled conversation riddled with occasional groans and grunts fell out of the room.
Vicente liked to think of himself as a modern-day Caligula, conducting business through orgies and creating the Gallery as the boardroom.
To him, his Gallery was as significant as Caligula’s infamous orgy boats.
The setting made for some damn awkward discussions, but at least he wasn’t offended when I never participated.
The one redeeming quality here was that these women were volunteers, not the slaves Maikel kept in his miniature Gallery. It sickened me to go there. I didn’t know how Lafe could stomach it, either.
This city that Vicente called his home worshiped him and the riches he rained down on the economy.
Who cared how the wealth was acquired and how many had to die for it to enter their hands?
They were grateful. All the attractive young women threw themselves at his mercy for a chance to entertain his guests, sometimes at their parents’ urging.
Like he would make any of them his queen.
I nearly laughed out loud. That wasn’t the way Vicente operated. He just hid the truth well from the city.
Straightening my shoulders, I tipped my head back and prepared to play Vicente’s little lapdog. There wasn’t anything I despised more, but for my pendejo brothers, I’d eat shit at his feet. Damn them for making me play his games.
With strong, determined strides, I entered the Gallery heading straight for the far platform.
Beds, chaise lounges, and sex chairs lined the outside walls in front of the windows of dancing women.
The slow sensual music beat through the room, adding the erotic sight of women bent at all different angles for their partner’s pleasure.
Some of them I knew from when I was forced to live here. That was one thing about Vicente, he was sentimental about his possessions. When women pleased him, he kept them in the Gallery long after they lost their youthful bodies. All except his concubines. Those he treated very differently.
Vicente grinned as he watched me approach. Yes, he knew exactly why I was coming to find him. His grin widened into a predatory smile that formed deep grooves in his cheeks, giving his classical looks a bit of a sardonic edge. How it rankled me that I looked like this man.
Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. We were also the same height and build. I used to convince myself I looked more like my Colombian mother, but when I stood in front of Vicente, I couldn’t deny I was his carbon copy.
He used to detest the similarities between us. Then he discovered how much it bothered me, and now he rubbed it in any chance he got. He’d already played that card today, so here was hoping I wasn’t subjected to any more cutting comments before taking my family home.
“Vicente,” I murmured and dipped my head in respect. It was always about the deference with him.
“Andre,” he said politely as if he were happy to see me, when not four hours ago, we both watched Grey whipped in this very room. You see, the Gallery held all manner of business for the Institution.
“We’re preparing to leave.” I smoothed a hand down my suit shirt. “I came to pay my respects and confirm you are satisfied with the completion of our errand?”
Vicente leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand.
The immaculate suit he wore rustled with his movements.
“Yes, yes. Victor has been a thorn in my side for quite some time. He holds a high position, has earned it, but he’s gotten too comfortable.
” A sadistic gleam brightened his dark brown eyes.
You mean he was too well-liked by your men.
“Arlo is secured. How long will you be keeping him? We’re happy to return him to the Armory once his time is done.” I gently pressed for his intentions. Arlo was a good man, intelligent. In a few years, he could be just as liked as his father and potentially twice as capable.
Vicente waved my offer away. “He won’t be here long enough for you to retrieve him on your next visit. This is just a little reminder to Victor not to get any drastic ideas.”
I raised my brows. “Do you not think abducting his son would have the opposite effect? The rumors of him using his followers to take the weaponry faction are just that, rumors. This could motivate him to actually act on that.” It grated on my nerves to offer him any type of counsel.
“Eh, not a concern. He has two other sons and three daughters. They’re all interchangeable.
I didn’t even have you collect the oldest. This is a message Victor needed to learn sooner rather than later.
It’s a small message. If he tries to go against me, I’ll go after his children.
Each and every one. It’s better he learns his place now.
” He leaned back against the chair with a smirk plastered across his face.
Of course, Vicente viewed children as replaceable and disposable…
Victor wasn’t an enemy, though. As far as I knew, he never had been.
Part of me wondered if Vicente had started those recent rumors on his own to have an excuse to hurt him.
I’d never know, and as long as I kept my brothers away from the mansion, I wouldn’t look too closely into it.
Let him do what he wants as long as he stayed the fuck away from us.
Asking about the fight was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it. I’d already asked about it when he sent the invite out, and if I asked again, he’d take it as an offense. Instead, I settled on a safe question. One that Vicente loved to hear.
“My apologies about Grey. I’m taking him back to the compound, and he will get his shit together.” Yeah, fucking right. “In the meantime, is there someone else on the block?”
This was our game. My role in the Institution.
Years and years of carefully cultivated relationships across several countries. Lafe hated what he did, but I was sure my role was worse. When I flipped the lowest of men, I could give two fucks.
When it was to bolster Vicente’s revenge for some unknown slight, I died a little inside. I tried to placate my guilt by telling myself they were away from Vicente and that a gruesome death was less of an option.
But it got easier and easier every time, as long as I got what I wanted out of the deal.
“I’m glad you asked.” He flicked two fingers to a soldier standing in the corner, watching our every breath. It didn’t matter that I held a high position within the Institution or that I could kill him before he lifted his weapon.
It didn’t even matter that I was the blood to Vicente.
I was the enemy if I threatened our leader.
The soldier brought over a file and passed it to me.
Vicente was prepared. He knew I would come and ask, and he knew I wouldn’t hesitate because it meant buying Grey more time.
Once I completed this job, Grey could slaughter fifty of Vicente’s best men buck naked while screaming for our father’s head and Vicente would keep him off the post.
For a week. Maybe two.
I now had one more errand to run before we could lock ourselves away in the compound.
Ignoring the crescendo of moans and slapping skin, I fled the Gallery.
Men passed me as they patrolled the hallway, and I nodded before I ducked into an alcove.
It wasn’t private, but it was better than standing in the open.
I needed to review the folder before I made it back to Parker and Grey, just in case.
The folder was thin, holding only a single picture. This time it was a woman. One I knew.
It was going to be a late fucking night.