Chapter One

Bailey Gregory

“You jackass. I’ve told you time and again that none of this is your business. You need to leave this alone. You need to let me handle things my own way! Why do you think I didn’t tell you about this?”

I stared at my twin brother. Was he out of his mind? Did he think I would let anyone threaten him?

Thomas Bradley Gregory was the governor of Nevada, and he was being blackmailed because he was gay, married to a woman, and had made a bad choice for a male fuckbuddy.

“What did Lindsey say about this? Did you even tell her what was going on?” Lindsey was Thomas’s wife. She was a petite blonde with a killer figure who perfectly upheld the Gregory image and provided Thomas with the necessary cover to be a closeted politician.

Thomas had been elected as a democratic governor with a democratic legislature, so there was potential to enact many reforms in the state. But only if his conservative constituents didn’t discover that he’d committed the sin of omission regarding his sexuality and called for his impeachment.

“Every bit of this is my business, Thomas, because you’re my family and I love you. You’ve lost your damn mind if you think that fucking slag you were screwing on the side wouldn’t still go to the press, even if he gets this money.”

I tossed the duffel bag on the floor of his office in the governor’s mansion, unzipping it and holding up a stack of banded hundred-dollar bills to shake at him. There had to be a million bucks in that our father’s old green Army duffel bag.

“We don’t know if Boyd is behind this, Bailey. Was the guy you slapped around even Boyd? It was dark outside. Did he speak to you? Could you even identify Boyd’s voice if you heard it without being able to see him?”

I exhaled. “He didn’t say anything, and he was wearing a damn hoodie with a balaclava. He was the same build as your boyfriend. Same height, same weight. It was him, Thomas. I know it.”

Thomas shook his head, obviously doubting my powers of perception. “So no, then. You have no idea who it was. You should have allowed him to take the duffel, Bailey. This could all be over with by now.

“I absolutely refuse to tarnish our father’s legacy by letting my dirty laundry be fodder for the gossip mill. The General would shoot us if he knew we were both gay. How you got by with telling him, I’ll never know, but I won’t put Mother through the humiliation—”

“Bullshit! Mom didn’t blink an eye when I told her I was gay after Dad caught me sneaking that guy out of the house when I was home before going to South Korea.

All the charities The Dawson Family Foundation supports are still taking our endowments without blinking an eye, even with the Pride flag hanging in front of the building next to the US flag.

“Did you know Mom even released funds to establish an LGBTQ+ grant for three youth centers in Nevada in your honor? Father was an asshole, Thomas. His mind couldn’t have been blown open with a truckload of C-4.”

My brother walked over to the credenza behind his desk and poured two drinks. He carried them to where I stood by the large leather sofa and held one out for me.

“Bailey, General Joseph Bradley Gregory came from a long line of decorated military heroes and prestigious public servants. You went into the Army to continue the Gregory tradition. I went to law school to prepare for the role I have right now. Don’t you see that we’ve always done what Father expected?

Our family legacy doesn’t deserve to be dragged through the mud like this. ”

I shot back the whiskey and stared at my brother.

“You don’t deserve to be dragged through the mud like this.

Lindsey doesn’t either. I’d bet my trust fund that if you fed that same line of bullshit to Beatrice Dawson Gregory, our mother would laugh in your face, Thomas.

Let me go find Boyd Newton. I can make sure he won’t say a word about the affair.

” Oh, I’d make sure that fucking asshole never said my brother’s name again.

“When I told Boyd it was over, he didn’t act that upset about it. It might be someone else who got wind of the affair. The text messages were from a burner, Bailey. We don’t know it was him.”

“Who else would be blackmailing you, Thomas?” Damn, the man was stubborn.

“I’ll tell you one thing, I can promise that if it was Boyd who sent those messages, he will go to the press the instant he surfaces from whichever hospital he’s gone to because you beat the hell out of him and took the duffel with the cash. How did you even know to follow me?”

Under any other circumstances, getting Thomas to yell would be a personal victory for me. He was always so goddamn in control and getting him to scream would usually have me doing the Rocky victory dance in my head, but not when my little brother was in danger.

I chuckled. “Because you don’t have a goddamn poker face, Thomas.

You invited me over for dinner to discuss something.

‘Bailey, come have dinner with Lindsey and me. I have something I want to discuss with you.’ You then proceeded to get up in the middle of the main course after receiving a text message that clearly upset you.

Then, you dropped back by the dining room to say you were going to the gym.

It doesn’t take a detective to figure out You. Are. In. Trouble!” Now I was yelling.

“How many messages did you receive, and when did they start?” I couldn’t believe he didn’t tell me about the messages.

“God, they started the week after I broke it off with Boyd. He wasn’t upset when I told him we had to stop seeing each other, Bailey.

It was like he was relieved. I’d stood him up twice over the last couple of months.

Once, when we were going to get together while I was in Vegas for the hospitality union meetings to keep them from going on strike before the summer tourist season.

The talks were intense, and I couldn’t get away. He said he understood.

“The second time was when I went down to meet with the Hollywood studio heads. I called him at the last minute and canceled a dinner I’d set up with him at the Paris Casino. I told him to grab a friend and go ahead to the restaurant. He said he had other plans anyway. Not upset at all.”

“Did you tell Lindsey what’s going on? What did she say?” Thomas’s face paled, as if he suddenly realized he wasn’t the only person affected by his actions.

I knew in my heart the last thing Thomas wanted was to embarrass Lindsey by making shitty decisions with his dick. She would be his biggest supporter if he’d let her, but the guilt of keeping her in the loop was too much for him.

I could see how upset he was, but he should have thought about what would happen when the whole damn thing fell apart.

I couldn’t hold my tongue. “Lindsey sent me after you. She knew something was going on that you weren’t telling her, and she was frightened for you.

You never keep anything from Lindsey. You two love each other.

You’re best friends, Thomas. I know your marriage isn’t a conventional one, but it works for the two of you.

“If she turns a blind eye to you stepping out on occasion, then she’s a bigger person than I’d be, but I have no doubt the two of you care very much for each other. Let me go after that fucker before he does any damage. I can find him.”

Boyd Newton was a porn actor—not a star by anyone’s stretch of the imagination—who lived in Las Vegas, where a lot of porn was made.

Every few months since they’d met during the campaign, Thomas met the dude at our family’s lake house near the Nevada side of the Humboldt–Toiyabe National Forest. That was how I found out my brother was fucking Boyd Newton in the first place.

Thomas brought Newton to the house one weekend when I’d canceled our summer hangout with a few old friends because I was supposed to be deployed.

The mission got scrubbed at the last minute, so when I couldn’t get in touch with Thomas, I called an old friend who told me Thomas had canceled the trip altogether.

It was a surprise when Lindsey texted me that she’d baked my favorite pineapple-upside-down cake and was sending it with Thomas.

When I met the two of them, along with several members of Thomas’s protection team at the front door of the house, Thomas had a hard time explaining why he wasn’t with our old friends but was instead with a guy I’d seen in dozens of porn videos.

After badgering Thomas for hours and promising to leave if he told me the truth, I finally got the story out of him that he’d met Boyd at a Democratic National Committee fundraiser, and they hit it off.

Boyd was attending as an escort for one of the rich old widows with a big checkbook.

Of course my brother was stupid enough to fall for the guy.

Their affair had trouble written all over it when he finally admitted it, but Thomas was a good man, even if he had a problem keeping his dick in his pants.

Thomas cleared his throat, bringing us back to the matter at hand. “No, Bailey. Stay away from him. I’m an idiot for starting up with him in the first place.

“When the story breaks, I’ll quietly resign from the governor’s office and take whatever repercussions come my way.

I’ll make Lindsey divorce me, and I’ll go into hiding for a while.

I’ll still have my law license, and I can set up a private practice back East near Mother.

Or maybe she’ll let me help with the Foundation. ”

I shook my head at the stubborn ass. “Look, give me a few weeks, Thomas. I’m a private investigator. I can find him, and we can put this all behind you so you can continue to be the governor, and maybe one day, the president, just like the old man expected.”

Thomas stared at me as if he wanted to smack me. “Six minutes, Bailey. Six minutes. You can’t tell me what to do just because of six minutes.”

I chuckled. I was six minutes older than Thomas, and he couldn’t forget it. Hell, I wouldn’t let him. For the rest of my life, I was going to rub being the older, bigger brother in his face, and he always knew it.

My twin brother had an amazing political mind, and I was beyond fucking proud of him. He and Lindsey were a power couple in Nevada politics. He was the brains in the Gregory family.

I, however, was the unruly brawn.

After twenty years of being an infantryman in Uncle Sam’s Army, I’d basically walked around the world, so I decided to stop living in the suffocating closet I’d constructed for myself. I was out, proud, and single. To say I was ready to mingle was an understatement.

Adjusting to civilian life had been no walk in the park, but I’d figured out pretty quickly that money ran like water through my fingers because of my newly adopted playboy lifestyle, so a job was necessary.

I’d always loved solving mysteries—thank you, Hardy Boys—so I took an online course that taught me nothing I didn’t already know, applied for a private investigator’s license and concealed carry permit, and after I passed the exam, I hung out my shingle.

I’d become a fucking pro at tracking down cheating spouses. Thomas’s situation wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to encountering. It happened a hell of a lot more than most folks expected.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to Nevada in a long time, Thomas. I won’t let you get screwed because you’re being blackmailed about something stupid like who you fuck, and I damn well won’t allow you to resign from an office you were born to hold.”

My brother hung his head. “I love you, Bailey. Please, don’t get hurt.” He hugged me, which was something our mother insisted we do when we had any kind of disagreement growing up.

With his permission to track the bastard, I grabbed my stuff to leave. “You watch your six, little brother. He might get pissy about what I’ve done or plan to do, so make sure your security guys are paying attention.”

That night, I went back to my apartment in Carson City and packed for a road trip south. Look out, Vegas… Here I come.

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