Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Angel
I sit at the table with my brothers, four sets of eyes glaring back at me. None of them are happy about the deal I’ve made with Donald Winthrop.
They’re not super pleased I killed our uncle either, though we’re agreed it was his time and his doing.
“Any luck getting a meeting with Rush Smith?” I ask casually, knowing the answer before I ask. He’s been playing hard to get. Is he pissed I took the kill away from him? Or testing to see how I respond to being ignored? Does he want to know if I’m like my uncle?
Vigo became obsessed with a single mom and convinced her to marry him. She was weak and frightened, and in typical Vigo style, he took advantage.
But when she ran from her marriage, she went straight into the arms of the largest real estate tycoon in the country, maybe the world. Rushton Smith.
I’ve got to give Giulia credit. She played her cards just right. I lean back in my chair. My little wifey upstairs is the kind of pretty, the kind of cultured, that if I’m not careful, she could find a man like Rush.
I have no intention of letting her go on any terms other than the ones I set. Which is why I’m going to keep a very close eye on her.
Vigo spent too much time blind drunk, and his own ego convinced him she’d come back. I won’t make either of those mistakes.
And I’m going to find a way past Rush’s fortress walls as well. This is my time.
Gunner picks at the nail of his trigger finger. “You know that little cunt, Gigi, has been stonewalling us.”
He’s referring to Giulia, who now goes by Gigi. She changed her name when she left Vigo. He has that effect on people. Not sure why Gunner’s calling her a cunt exactly, other than she is currently standing between us and the man we want to meet with.
I’m not even sure it’s she who is blocking us. It’s likely not a point Gunner cares about. He’s more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. But I know that the who and the why are important if we’re going to eventually get our way.
Every time we call asking for Rush, a polite assistant, who is not Gigi, takes our message and then assures we’ll hear back. We never do.
Which is why I’m going to try a new tact. I pick up the phone in front of me, dialing the Smith Brothers’ offices main line.
“Smith Brothers. How may I direct your call?” a smooth female voice asks.
“Gigi Hope, please,” I say, giving a fake smile to add a fake pleasantness to my voice.
“Of course, sir,” she responds, the hold music coming on a moment later.
It barely takes ten seconds before the line picks up. “Gigi Hope, how may I help you?”
When I said that Gigi rushed into a Smith’s arms, what I actually meant was she got a job as Rush Smith’s assistant. In less than a month, however, not only was he fucking her, but he was out slaying all her dragons. She must be an amazing lay.
“Gigi,” I say smoothly into the line. “It’s your nephew, Angel.” Gigi is younger than I am. But I reference our familial bond with intent.
“Angel,” she answers, the fear that laces her voice making my mouth twitch down. I need her cooperation, not her fear.
“Is that Sinclair?” I hear Rush’s harsh rumble in the background. “What the fuck does he want?”
But before I can answer, his voice comes directly through the line. “What the fuck do you want?”
Calling Gigi was the right choice. And I could point out that he told me to call her and make an appointment.
Instead, I focus on the work-around I’m angling for. “I wanted to tell Gigi the happy news.”
“Happy news?” I can hear his molars grinding through the receiver.
“I’m getting married. This weekend.”
“Married?” It takes a lot to surprise Rush Smith I’d imagine, but I hear his shock now. A wicked smile curls my lips.
“That’s right. To Senator Donald Winthrop’s daughter, Promise.”
He doesn’t answer. I don’t need him to. I know that big brain of his is recalibrating. Marrying Promise makes me a player. One that he shouldn’t just set to ignore.
“I know it’s last minute, but I hoped you and Gigi might come.”
Gunner eyes me with suspicion while my brother Axel appraises me with the shrewdness of a true tactician.
Of all my brothers, he sees the bigger picture, the way to move the pieces.
I heard our father say once that Axel was the bastard of some famous athlete. Maybe basketball.
Axel’s thing is cars, though, and he can drive like no one I’ve ever met. It’s like he sees the road before it even appears.
Rush must mute the phone, because it’s dead silent for way too long. But when he comes back on the line, he’s firing off a series of digits. “That’s my number. Text me the details.”
I scribble them down, hanging up the phone with a satisfied smile.
My brothers can doubt me all they like, but I am making the right choice. Marrying Promise was a good idea.
And they had better get on board, because I’m moving up in the world and I’m dragging them with me.
“Don’t look so pleased,” Knox spits. “You can chum up to all the powerful men you want. They all play on the other side of the line. The good side. Even they can’t help you with Vincent and you fucking know it.
You’re worrying about all the wrong shit.
” He pounds the table with his massive fist to articulate his point.
I shake my head. “There is short game and long game.” But he’s not wrong. Vincent is a big fucking problem right now, that not even Don Winthrop or Rush Smith can fix. That’s got to be all me.
I need money and power to stand a chance.
A soft knock sounds at the door.
“Come,” I bark out, irritated my brothers aren’t seeing more of the picture. I’m right and I’m tired of being underestimated.
Candy enters, her shock of orange hair reflecting brightly even in the dim light. She changes the color every few weeks, some personal statement.
She’s pretty enough but she’s got trouble tattooed all over her. From her hair to her very checkered past that includes a homicidal ex, she wreaks of complicated.
It’s why she works here. Not only do I pay her, but I house her in the building. Otherwise, I could never attract someone as talented as her at a strip club. But it also means she does what I ask when I ask it. And that’s how I like it.
“Job’s done as requested.”
“Good,” I answer with a grunt. “She complied?”
“Easy peasy,” Candy answers. “And honestly, I think you’ll be pleased. Goldilocks has got the prettiest—” Candy stops, looking around the table.
Some of the girls try to shower me or my brothers with their attention. Maybe they like power, or perhaps they like trouble. We’ve got plenty of both. But not Candy. She skirts the edges of this club, which I think is a point in her favor.
“Finish,” I bark out, my patience thin today.
She draws in a breath, giving another skeptical look at the group before she continues. “As a woman who’s waxed a lot of P, she’s got the prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen.”
Then Candy spins and flees the room, her orange hair trailing behind her.
“Pretty kitty?” Rock spits. “Can’t you just fuck one of the whores already?”
I snort. “Your dick is going to fall off if you’re not careful.”
That draws a snicker from some of the boys. They all have different rules about the strippers, who are really prostitutes. I don’t get involved.
But it’s Gunner who stops laughing first. “Just so long as you’re not thinking with yours.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“A pretty kitty can be a real distraction,” Axel answers for him, his sharp jaw flexing as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “Especially when it’s attached to big blue eyes and curves made for sin.”
I push up from my chair, glaring down at them. “You think I’m going to get pussy-whipped? That Promise isn’t part of a larger plan? When have you ever known me to lose it for a woman?”
Silence meets my words. Because they know I’m right.
But then Gunner cracks his knuckles. “It’s just that she’s some other level of pussy. The kind we can’t usually access.”
“Other level?” I ask, and I feel my muscles tense. Are they jealous? They might be my brothers of choice, but I meant what I said. Only I get to touch her.
Rock shrugs. “She’s soft. In every way. And she looks like Barbie and she smells like money.”
“Mind your fucking business.” My nostrils flare as I get ready to fight. He’d better keep his nose to himself.
But it’s Axel who rises from his chair. “You’re strong, Angel. But a woman like that, she finds a man’s weak points. Don’t lose sight of what’s important.”
“I’m the last man you need to remind of what’s important. But the rest of you should check yourselves. There is a big world out there. And we could be more than just drug runners and whore mongers.”
“What’s a monger?” Rock asks.
Gunner punches his arm. “Shut up.”
But it’s Knox who shakes his head. “I punch people for a living. And I like it. I don’t want to be more, and I think maybe we’re wondering if your ambition is actually the thing we should be worried about. You’re going to get us all killed.”
“Fuck off,” I say, turning toward the door.
But Promise’s written words bounce through my thoughts.
The ones where she said she wasn’t afraid of death.
I look back at my adopted brothers. “You don’t want this life, you walk.
No questions. But we all know this life is short, and death could come for us any time, from anywhere, fueled by any number of circumstances. I don’t fear death. Go if you do.”
And then I open the door, slamming it closed.
Because my point is made. And because…
I want to see the prettiest kitty that Candy has ever waxed.