Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Gideon
“Are you sure about this?” Henry asked as I peered at my reflection in the mirror of my suite at the Beverly Hills hotel where a political fundraiser was being held.
Normally, I hated everything to do with politics, but I was willing to make an exception today, considering Senator James Turner was also on the guest list.
And I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he realized exactly who was responsible for the missing funeral director.
James had been unraveling all week. Not just because he worried the police may soon learn he hired Brian McGuire to dispose of a body years ago. But also because he feared Liam would find out he never did dispose of that body, even after he’d assured him it was all taken care of.
As if Brian McGuire’s disappearance wasn’t stressful enough for poor James, an anonymous tip to the Atlanta police linked him directly to the funeral home on the day Brian was last seen.
James claimed he was simply planning Alton Sinclair’s memorial, but the detective assigned to the case didn’t seem so convinced, regardless of James’ insistence he had nothing to do with Brian’s disappearance.
For once, he was telling the truth.
It wouldn’t do him any good, though.
“Of course I’m sure,” I responded, adjusting my bowtie.
I hated wearing these damn things, but it was necessary for the part I needed to play as a billionaire business owner and philanthropist.
“Like I told you from the beginning…” I met Henry’s gaze in the mirror. “These bastards deserve to know what it’s like to have everything they love taken from them.” I turned to face him. “By the end of tonight, James Turner will know exactly what that feels like.”
“I’m just making sure you haven’t had any second thoughts.”
He didn’t come right out and say it, but I knew he wasn’t merely referring to how I planned to go about disposing of James.
Instead, he was asking if I’d had any second thoughts about Imogene.
The reminder of her made my heart ache, a sharp pain that threatened to consume me. But after everything I put her through, the least I could do was let her hold on to her good memories of Samuel.
And over the past week, that was precisely what I did.
I stopped going to The Daily Grind in the morning. Stopped driving by her house. Stopped sneaking into the owner’s box at the soccer stadium to check on her during practice or games.
After watching her every day for the better part of the past year, it had been difficult to quit her cold turkey.
But I wasn’t willing to give up my plan for revenge.
So I gave up Imogene instead.
I kept waiting for my house to be swarmed with law enforcement, considering everything she knew. But that never happened.
Even though I broke her heart, she still kept my secret. She was still loyal.
And how did I return that loyalty?
By continuing down the same destructive path I set out on months ago.
“An eye for an eye, Henry,” I reminded him, my tone hard and determined. “We agreed. Once that first domino fell, there was no going back. I already have too much blood on my hands. May as well make it count. Make sure it hasn’t all been for nothing.”
He closed his eyes, blowing out a long breath, his disagreement clear. But he’d never abandon me.After all the shit we went through in that foster home, we swore to always have each other’s back, no matter what.
“Brothers in blood,” he said with a sigh, reciting the same oath we often did during our worst moments.
I hooked my pinky finger with his. “Brothers in blood,” I repeated, holding his gaze.
“You should get going,” Henry said, stepping away. “We’re on a schedule tonight.”
“Right. Of course.” I did one last check of my appearance, then headed toward the door.
“Just a reminder, you may be flying blind in there.” Henry followed me into the living room, his faded Nirvana t-shirt and cargo shorts at odds with the tuxedo I wore.
I’d give anything to trade places with him, but this was the choice I’d made. In order to destroy these men, I had to become one of them.
“With the president being in attendance, secret service will be swarming the place. As much as I love you, I’d rather not go to prison for hacking into their security system.”
“I’ll be fine,” I promised with a squeeze to his bicep. “I’ve got it all under control.”
“I hope so.”
I gave him one last reassuring look, then slipped out of the suite.
As I entered the gleaming ballroom after a thorough pat down, courtesy of the secret service, I was greeted by swarms of people arriving for tonight’s event. Men in tailored tuxedos and women adorned in designer gowns flooded the space, laughing and smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
My skin crawled from all the fake people surrounding me. Celebrities. Politicians. Business moguls. Anyone willing to cough up nearly a half-million dollars for the privilege of attending this exclusive event.
And this was a truth I had to face when I saw my best friend point a gun at me.
Some people would do anything to have a seat at the table.
I may not have known any of these people personally, but I knew their type — driven by money and power, sharks willing to tear each other apart. They didn’t care who they had to hurt on their way up the ladder as long as they made it to the top. And these people had a great view from up this high.
But they were all too blinded by their lust for success to realize that the higher they climbed, the farther they’d fall.
And James Turner was about to plummet… After I gave him a little push.
In between sips of champagne from a passing server’s tray, I headed deeper into the room, scanning the hundreds of people for one in particular. The smooth sounds of jazz music filled the air as I weaved through conversations and polite greetings from acquaintances who recognized me from Liam’s recent charity golf tournament. But I had no interest in making small talk tonight.
Thankfully, it didn’t take me much longer to find the reason I’d spent a fortune on a ticket to tonight’s event. Sure, I could have confronted James in his office. Maybe even at his overpriced mansion in Brentwood.
But I liked the idea of doing it here. In a place where he felt comfortable and untouchable.
After politely excusing myself from a conversation with the head of a pharmaceutical company who hoped to increase his profits in the next quarter by raising prices of medication even more, I made my way toward the bar, studying James as he scrolled through his phone while waiting for the bartender to finish pouring scotch into a glass.
He looked put together, his tuxedo crisp and shoes polished, but I didn’t miss the way he constantly surveyed his surroundings, as if waiting for the police to storm in and arrest him at any moment.
That didn’t keep him away from tonight’s gala, though. Like Liam, he’d never miss an opportunity to hobnob amongst people who might help him climb the next rung of the ladder, even if he’d eventually step on them on his way up.
“Senator Turner,” I said brightly as I approached.
He stilled, his eyes widening in surprise. It was obvious he didn’t expect to see me here. Being the politician he was, he recovered quickly, extending his hand toward me with a practiced smile, regardless of the things Liam may have said about me in his presence.
“Mr. Saint. What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t realize you were a big donor to President Campbell’s campaign.”
“I donate to both parties.” I shook his hand, then took another sip from my champagne as James all but downed his scotch, signaling the bartender for another. “In my line of work, I’ve found it pays to back both horses, so to speak. That way, I’m bound to walk away with something I want.”
“Right.” He threw a handful of bills on the counter, swiping his fresh scotch and taking another large swallow.
“I heard the news,” I announced as he was about to leave.
“The news?” His face paled, and he anxiously licked his lips, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not sure?—”
“About Mr. Sinclair.”
He pushed out a breath, visibly relieved. “Right. Of course.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” I offered in mock sincerity.
“Thank you.”
“It’s curious though, isn’t it?” I asked casually.
“What is?” He scrunched his brows.
“Your friend dies, then a few days later, you’re the last one to see that funeral director in Atlanta alive.”
His mouth agape, he blinked repeatedly. “How…” He paused, swallowing hard. “How do you know about that?”
“I make it my business to know everything about everyone. Just like I know all about the conversation you had with Brian McGuire before he…disappeared.”
“He’s planning Alton’s service. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
He attempted to brush past me, but I stepped in front of him, hooking my arm around his shoulders in a friendly manner, as if we were two old friends reconnecting after a long time apart.
Bringing my phone to his ear, I hit play, watching his complexion blanch as he listened to his last conversation with Brian McGuire where he admitted to selling me. To make matters worse, both men had addressed the other by their name, leaving no question as to who was speaking.
“Is that really the story you want to go with?” I asked nonchalantly after a minute, dropping my hold on him.
He made no move to escape, too stunned to put one foot in front of the other.
“Imagine what this could do to your career if the police got a hold of it.” My eyes widened in fake shock. “Or worse, the media.”
“How did you get that?” he seethed.
“How I got it isn’t important. All that matters is I have it.”
He didn’t say anything for several moments, but I could sense the wheels spinning in his head as he tried to wrap his mind around what this could mean for him and his career.
“How much do you want?” he finally demanded, his question dripping with disdain.
I let out a low chuckle before lifting my champagne flute to my lips. The bubbles danced on my tongue as I savored the taste of victory.
“It’s so typical for you to think I’m after your money.”
“What other reason is there?”
Leaning closer, I made sure he could see the fire in my eyes as I spoke my response with calculated precision.
“Vengeance.”
My voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed around us like a booming clap of thunder, drowning out the polite chatter of the wealthy elite.
“For years, I dreamed of this moment,” I continued. “At first, I was only after you because of what you did to Jonah.”
The instant that name left my mouth, all the remaining color drained from his face. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and his hands trembled ever so slightly.
“Jonah,” he repeated, his voice hoarse with fear and confusion. “What are you?—”
“But after hearing that little conversation, I’m doing it for me, too.”
“Doing what?” he asked, frozen in place.
“What you deserve,” I hissed, keeping my tone deathly calm, as if we were discussing the weather. Not his eventual downfall. “I’m going to watch you lose everything you care about. Money. Power. Influence. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be yet another in a long line of disgraced politicians. Then you’ll know exactly how I felt when I woke up in the hell your greed sent me to.”
“My greed? I don’t— Who are you?”
“Curious about finding Samuel Tate’s fingerprints on that glass at Alton’s cabin. Isn’t it?”
James shook his head. “How did you…”
When I lifted my champagne glass back to my lips with a smirk, he trailed off, his expression widening in realization.
“Thanks for the chat, old friend.” I patted his back somewhat harshly, causing him to cough. “I do hope you’ll enjoy the rest of your evening. I know I’ll enjoy mine.” I downed the rest of my champagne, then left him alone at the bar.
It was official. This was the best half-million dollars I’d ever spent.