Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (27 page)

Eva had never been one for alcohol.

Abruptly the door behind him opened and Zac came in, brushing the snow off his black overcoat. His amber gaze settled on Eva first—as if checking to make sure she was there—then shifted to Gabriel. “I have something you might be interested in,” he said, not even bothering with a greeting.

Gabriel stiffened. “What?”

“Ah. So the others aren’t yet aware?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Zac didn’t look particularly perturbed, shrugging off his overcoat and tossing it carelessly over the back of the couch. He moved around the side of it and sat down, putting the briefcase he’d been holding on the table, disturbing some of the plates of food.

“Christ,” Eva muttered from her place in the chair, “Gabriel was right. You’re just like a damn dog, shaking your fur and getting into the food.”

Zac’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “And you like it that way, angel. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Gabriel skirted around the couch. “What the fuck, Zac?”

The other man opened the briefcase, extracted some papers, and handed them to him without a word. Gabriel looked down. They were financial statements concerning Daniel St. James. Honor’s father. They detailed large sums of money paid into his account after his death from a company called Mainline Holdings Limited.

“Mainline Holdings is a shell company,” Zac said calmly. “And I’m sure you can guess who’s behind that.”

Oh yeah, he could. Because he’d gotten his people to investigate into Tremain’s financial situation and they’d come up with the same thing. Gabriel looked at him. “How the fuck did you know?” Honor hadn’t told anyone else but him that Tremain had paid St. James’s debts. And this information hadn’t been in the files Zac had sent him earlier.

Zac leaned back against the couch, still calm. His tie was perfectly centered, the red edge of one of his tattoos peeking over the collar of his pristine white business shirt. “I found a few inconsistencies in the data I sent you so I did a bit more research and found these transactions. They were remarkably well hidden. I also noticed that you had your people do some digging. They’re clumsy, Gabriel. Very clumsy. You should come to me when you need stuff like this.”

Jesus. Time to do another overhaul of his systems security. “Or you could just mind your own fucking business.”

The other man only smiled. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Zac?” Eva demanded, her voice low and dangerous. “What haven’t you been telling me?”

At that moment the door opened again and it was Alex, late as usual.

He was in a black suit, his matte black tie loose, black shirt open at the collar. His hair was untidy, like someone had run her fingers through it, his blue eyes brilliant as sapphires. “Sorry, I’m late,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “Maya was insatiable. Jesus, is there scotch left or have you drank it all again, Gabriel?”

No, he didn’t want to discuss this with Alex. But he was going to have to. Taking a step over to the table, he pulled the top off the whisky decanter and poured a measure out. Then he held the crystal tumbler out toward his friend.

Alex came over and took the glass, his gaze turning sharp. “Oh dear,” he said. “You look serious. At least more serious than normal. Which is a bad fucking sign, I guess.”

“I suggest you drink that,” Gabriel said curtly. “All of it.”

Alex’s posture didn’t change but the look in his eyes cut like razors. “I see. Well, never let it be said that I refused a drink.” He downed the scotch in one go and poured himself another. “Tell me.” The casual note in his voice had gone now; it was low and flat and dangerous.

Gabriel held out the financial statements. “Look at these.”

The other man took them and looked down. He was silent a moment as he scanned the pages. Then he glanced back up at Gabriel. “What the fuck is this?”

“Evidence that your father’s so-called gambling debts were paid by Guy Tremain.”

Alex didn’t move a muscle, his eyes glittering. “And?”

“Who is currently laundering money for the Lucky Seven casino.”

“You found this out how?”

Gabriel hesitated. Fuck it, might as well say. “Honor told me Tremain paid the debts.”

“Honor?” Eva sounded puzzled. “Why the hell would she tell you that?”

“Because I found out about a reservation scam he was running and I wanted to get more information about him. She was the logical person to ask.”

Alex downed the second glass of scotch, then, quite casually, tossed the tumbler into the fireplace where it smashed in a spray of glass and glitter of flames. “Money laundering,” he said, his voice deceptively mild. “And everyone seems to know about it except me.”

Shit. He should have told his friend earlier. Given him a heads-up at least. But he hadn’t.

You didn’t want to. Didn’t want to bring that night up for him again.

Yeah, that was the truth. He still remembered Alex stumbling out of the casino, the shirt he was wearing torn and his mouth bleeding. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the look in his friend’s eyes. Like something in him had died.

That wasn’t the look that was there now, though. Anger made his midnight gaze burn bright blue.

“Yet you know something else we don’t,” Gabriel went on, knowing he had to continue. “Your father wasn’t gambling at that casino. He fucking owned it, didn’t he?”

Alex’s expression didn’t change. “Yes. He did.”

A strange anger surged through him. One he had no right to feel and yet did all the same. “Jesus Christ, Alex. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why the hell should I? It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“The fuck it is. Especially when Honor’s involved.”

“Oh?” Alex took a step toward him. “And how is Honor involved exactly?”

The other two didn’t say a word. They knew. This was Gabriel’s job. “I’ve been investigating Tremain, you know that. And I found out someone was making fake reservations and cancelling them. The money trail leads back to him. So I went to Honor and—”

“
You
brought her into it?” The look in Alex’s eyes blazed.

“Yes,” Gabriel said flatly. “She’s got a lot of fucking money invested in a company he’s running into the ground. Deliberately. If he goes down, so does she.”

A muscle ticked in Alex’s jaw. “That should have been my job, not yours.”

“Really? When you’ve been doing such a great job of it so far?”

His friend’s eyes widened, as if he’d taken a blow. “What the ever-loving fuck? You know why I haven’t—”

“Yeah, I know why. But you can’t come over all big brother now when you’ve been avoiding her for nineteen fucking years.” Protective anger rose. All he could see was the pain in Honor’s eyes as she’d told him about how her life had been after Alex had gone. After the brother who was supposed to keep her safe had disappeared, leaving her alone.

His friend was staring at him, blue eyes studying him with a terrifyingly sharp intelligence. And something flared in Alex’s gaze. Knowledge.

“You prick,” Alex said hoarsely.

Gabriel knew the blow was coming and he didn’t avoid it. Standing there motionless as Alex raised his fist and smashed it into the side of his face. Pain exploded like a star with his cheekbone at the center, radiating outward. But he’d experienced worse pain before and didn’t make a sound or flinch. Hell, he probably deserved it after all.

“What the hell, Alex?” Eva was saying.

Alex had drawn his hand back again, only to have Zac’s fingers wrap around his wrist, preventing him from landing another blow.

“Gentlemen, please.” Zac’s cultured English voice cut through the tension, polite yet deadly. “This isn’t going to make the meeting go any faster and it’s already become pretty fucking interminable.” The steel in the guy’s tone was enough to remind everyone that he could kill them all without even breaking a sweat.

Alex jerked his wrist from Zac’s restraining hold, then turned away sharply. He bent down to the table again, poured himself another tumbler full of scotch, then flung himself down into an armchair.

Gabriel’s cheekbone throbbed but he didn’t touch it.

“Jesus,” Eva said with some disgust. “You’re screwing her, aren’t you, Gabriel?”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” he replied curtly. “And apart from any of that, it’s not relevant.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Eva snapped. “You were supposed to be helping her out not—”

“Shut up, Eva,” Alex interrupted harshly. “Gabriel’s right, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Hey, you’re the one who punched him in the face. I don’t think you’re happy with—”

“Angel and Alex,” Zac cut in, his voice quiet. “We can deal with this later. Right now, the important thing is what’s happening with this casino. Which seems to be at the center of all the problems.”

Eva made a disgusted noise, but she didn’t say anything more. Alex only took another sip of his drink.

Gabriel didn’t look at either of them. He knew already they thought he was scum and fuck, they were right. She was far too good for him.

“Do go on, Gabriel.” Alex’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “What other little gems have you got for us today?”

“You saw. Those financial statements. Tremain paid off your father’s debts and then he married your mother. That is not a coincidence.”

A thick, heavy silence filled the room.

Eventually Alex said, “Does Honor know about … our dad? And Tremain?”

“Yes. I told her.”

“Is she okay? What did she say?”

“She was…”
Shocked, Hurt. Shattered.
“She doesn’t know anything more.”

“You have suspicions though,” Zac commented.

The fire was warm against his back, but for some reason he felt cold. Alex wasn’t going to forgive him in a hurry, he knew that for a fact. And he didn’t like it. The other man had been his friend for years—possibly the only true friend he had—and now …

You fucked up. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

More collateral damage he’d have to bear. Because nothing was more important than justice. Nothing.

“Yeah, I have suspicions,” he said. “I think whoever runs the casino paid Tremain to cover up St. James’s debts and his involvement. I also think they paid him to marry the guy’s wife.”

“Why would they want to do that?” Eva picked up her cup, taking a sip of her tea. “Seems a little strange.”

“Not if they wanted to hide their existence,” Alex said coldly. The mask of careless amusement he so often wore had vanished, leaving in its place a man as sharp as a steel blade. “Not if they wanted to direct attention away from what they’re doing. Paying his debts may make people look askance, but if he married my mother? That’s more understandable. After all, the things we do for love.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I knew there was something about that prick. I knew it.”

“I thought you didn’t know him?” Zac asked idly.

“He used to visit a lot. Part of the ‘Seven Devils’ as Dad used to call it.”

Something echoed in Gabriel’s memory. “Seven Devils?”

“That was Dad’s stupid name for his group of old college buddies. A few of them are dead now but Tremain is obviously still around.” His friend’s gaze came to rest on him. “What?”

Gabriel met it. “The casino’s name. Lucky Seven.”

Alex’s blue gaze darkened. He looked away, his jaw tight. “I never saw Tremain there,” he said flatly. “I never saw any of Dad’s other college buddies there either.”

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t a connection.” He hadn’t bothered with the scotch before but Christ, he could do with one now. And yet the thought of alcohol wasn’t quite it. He wanted something else, something warmer, softer …

Honor. You want Honor.

No. Not want. Need.

Fuck. The thought was disturbing on so many levels he shoved it ruthlessly from his head, stalking over to the table and splashing some scotch into a tumbler for himself.

“Don’t smash that one,” Zac said mildly. “I need something to drink out of.”

“Hmm. Doesn’t mean there
is
a connection either.” Eva was nibbling on one finger as she held her cup of tea in the other hand. “What do you think, Alex? Is it likely this casino is run by your father’s buddies?”

Alex’s jaw hardened, darkness moving behind his eyes. “Like I said, I never saw any of them there. And apart from that, the only other evidence is a similarity of names. The others … Shit, they’re just a bunch of rich assholes who talk about their golf handicaps all day. Can’t see any of them running underground casinos on the side.”

“But it’s not just an underground casino, is it?” Zac leaned forward and helped himself to an olive from the bowl on the table. “There’s far more than a bit of illegal gambling going on there. Several of my sources are saying that at least half of the drugs currently supplying New York’s richest come from this place, plus there’s a high-class call-girl operation going on as well.” He paused. “We need more information. There’s too much we don’t know.”

Alex flicked a glance at him. “What the hell has it got to do with you?”

Gabriel took a sip of the scotch, the alcohol burning a hot line down his throat. But it didn’t seem to burn away the strange ache inside him. An ache that had nothing to with his cheek. “Shouldn’t it have something to do with him?” he said curtly. “Aren’t we supposed to watch each other’s backs? Wasn’t that the whole point of this fucking club in the first place?”

His friend didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he drained his glass and pushed himself to his feet. “You want to take this on? Then take it. But count me out. Count me out for the whole fucking thing.” He stalked to the door, pulled it open, and without another word, went out, slamming it behind him.

Another silence fell, no less tense.

Gabriel didn’t look at either Zac or Eva. “You want to say I told you so? Then go ahead.” He stared into his glass. “I should have told him earlier.”

“Shagging his sister might also not have helped matters,” Zac said.

“Don’t you talk about Honor,” Gabriel growled. “She’s mine to deal with.”

“Oh, sure, lucky her.” Eva’s tone was acid. “And how exactly are you going to ‘deal’ with her?”