Deadfall (Red Rabbit #3)

1

ALBATRON

Present Day

I stared down at the reports on my desk and envisioned myself shoving every single one of them onto the floor in one dramatic sweep. Or better yet, ripping them to shreds and throwing them in the fire.

Would that be overkill? Yes.

But also satisfying? Immensely.

Especially when the reports were telling me things like how my brothers—Octavius and Basilion—were sabotaging my black site shipments, or how Vetticus was fucking things up left and right with Atrox Gaming—which, unfortunately, like everything else to do with the family businesses required a vote for every major decision.

Like, removing Vetticus. The man was a fucking loose canon.

Half the time I wished Theron North would kill him already, but then that would open up a whole new set of problems. Mainly, that once North was done with Vetticus, he would come for me.

And I couldn’t deal with that while also battling my brothers for the family empire.

Despite my overinflated sense of ego, I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could win the war while battling on two fronts.

I threw back the rest of my whiskey and slammed the glass down a little harder than necessary. Unfortunately I couldn’t afford to throw a tantrum either. That would only lower me to everyone else's level of stupidity and I would never stoop that low.

The door opened without warning. I looked up briefly, although I already knew who it was. There was only one person who would ever dare to enter without first waiting for permission. My attention fell on the folder in his hands and I already knew it was probably more bad news.

“What is it? I have a call in five minutes.”

“I found her.”

“I swear to God, Dante, if this is one of your jokes—”

“Bad day?”

My eyes narrowed, but Dante only chuckled and plopped the folder down in front of me. I caught his scent—spicy cologne and evergreen—I leaned towards him before I realized what I was doing.

Dante perched tantalizingly close on the edge of my desk, completely ignoring the strewn papers.

He flipped the folder open and sure enough, a photo of Emersyn North appeared.

Except, it was one I’d never seen before.

Blond hair blew back away from her face as she took the first step to board a private jet.

Her eyes were a striking grey-blue and despite the prominent scar that cut down one side of her face, she was a beautiful and fearsome sight to behold—just like her father.

“See, not a joke. I do have some bad news though,” Dante said.

“Of course you do,” I muttered.

“That’s Mahoney’s jet.”

My jaw clenched. Mahoney was loyal to my brothers and was another one of those I wished would mysteriously perish suddenly—preferably in a violent way.

Mahoney had chosen his side a long time ago when he realized Octavius and Basilion hated me.

He must have thought two against one was better odds.

In normal circumstances, that would have been the smart choice, but I was technically the oldest brother and if there was one thing I was dead certain about it was that I always got what I wanted, and I always came out on top.

“Apparently, he’s known about her for a while and has been playing cat and mouse with North.”

A soft laugh escaped. Oh, North was going to love that.

I leaned back in the chair. “Does North know where she is yet?”

Dante shook his head. “North’s been overloaded with Vetticus the last few months—well, you know—” Yes. I did know. “But his associates came close and Mahoney got spooked. He took her to his island two days ago.”

I fixed Dante with a look. “Why did it take so long to find her?”

Dante’s eyes glittered mischievously as he leaned forward. His tailored dress slacks pulled taut across one strong thigh and I fought against the urge to run my hand along the seam. He reached out and hooked his finger in the knot of my tie.

“You can have a great many things.” Gentle tugs loosened the tie from around my neck with practiced flicks. “But, you cannot have it all.”

I batted his hand away in annoyance and scoffed. “I can certainly try.”

I shoved away from the desk and moved over to my bar cart. I removed my tie the rest of the way and unbuttoned the first few buttons, immediately feeling like I wasn’t being suffocated anymore.

Damn him—the man always knew what I needed before I did. I tossed my tie away and refilled my glass. The caress of his gaze made my skin break out in goosebumps.

“Drink?” I asked gruffly over my shoulder.

“You’re late for your meeting,” he drawled.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d fucking shoot him.

“You know that this is more important.” I turned and cooly assessed him despite my bastard insides fluttering like a teenager’s. He still had that annoyingly handsome smirk on his lips.

Dante inclined his head gracefully. “What would you like me to do?”

“I have to fly out tomorrow and deal with Vetticus’ latest debacle,” I said, scornfully. “I need you to go to the island.”

Dante nodded, serious once more. “I can get a team together—”

“Alone.”

Dante looked at me sharply, head tilted in question. “Alone,” he echoed.

“Mahoney will know something is up if we send too many people.”

“He is a paranoid bastard,” Dante muttered. “Alright. How long?”

“Exfil the night of Octavius’ birthday party,” I answered.

Dante frowned as he did a quick calculation. “That’s—seven days.”

I scowled. “You can’t hold down the fort for that long?”

Unfazed, Dante walked over and plucked the drink from my hand. The teasing glint was back in his eyes as he took a sip, but there was an underlying sharpness that made my blood run hot.

“That’s an impressive level of confidence you have in me,” he said quietly.

“I have my doubts,” I grumbled. “Don’t make it worse.”

Dante winked. He knew I was full of shit. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

My eyes fell to a drop of whiskey on his lower lip and the air between us became alive with sweet, electric tension. I heard his breath catch as I slowly swept my thumb across his very bite-able lower lip.

“You’ll be careful,” I stated, voice barely above a growl.

The thought of losing him cut through my normally ironclad emotional detachment. My fists curled at my sides as my imagination flashed viciously to him dead on a rocky shore far out of my immediate reach.

“Always, mi amor.”

Dante’s voice was low and rough with emotion but it was his eyes, hardened to steel instead of softening, that brought me back from my dark thoughts.

Dante took my hand and firmly smoothed my fingers out before he raised my knuckles to his lips.

He planted firm kisses slowly on each knuckle without ever looking away.

The gleam in his eyes made me want to shove him down over my desk and—

I yanked my hand away and took a step back. I had work to do. Indulgences would have to wait.

“Come see me before you leave,” I said curtly.

Dante handed my glass back with a ghost of a smile.

Our fingers grazed, and it took everything in my power not to yank him in so I could touch more of him.

By the time the door shut, my mind was wandering down roads that were meant for quiet evenings under cool sheets—only to be brought back to reality by the ringing of my cell phone.

I’d forgotten about my meeting entirely.

I let it ring—I had more important things to think about. Like, how if I could pull this off, I’d make Theron North indebted to me. I wasn’t under any illusions that North would wipe the slate clean in exchange for his daughter. He thought I’d killed her—hell, I’d thought I killed her.

I just needed to buy myself enough time to deal with my brothers. Then, if North wanted to go to war after that, well, it was his funeral. All I cared about was that, at the end of it all, the family empire would rest in the hands of who it rightfully belonged to—me.