Page 4 of King of Desire (Kings of Las Vegas #2)

CHAPTER THREE

Triston

Mason rumbles into the phone. “Are you listening to me?”

My attention snaps back to the call. The answer is no, I wasn’t listening at all. I was thinking of Honeyeh downstairs in my house, under my roof, hoping for me to be her benefactor.

Well…employer. To-may-to, to-mah-to , as my mother would say.

“Of course I’m listening. The Russian Bratva is causing increasing amounts of trouble, and you want to…”

He rumbles out his frustration. “I want to shut down every business they have here in Vegas. I want to run them out of town. I want?—”

“I’m working on it. One step at a time and we’re about to make a major move.” Though quietly, I think Mason is being too aggressive. It’s going to lead to trouble.

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Mason bites back through gritted teeth. “They bombed one of our clubs. Shot up your brother’s home. They deserve to be punished.”

It’s a valid point. “You’ve already bankrupted one of their casinos and I’m about to complete a hostile takeover of a second.” And most important as far as I’m concerned. “They’re flailing like a wounded animal because they know you’re going to make the kill.”

“I know.” Mason calms and I hear the soft squeak of his chair as he sits back. “You’re right. I’m just done with dangerous enemies. I want my family safe.”

I grimace. I’m not sure that’s possible. Between his legal empire and his deals with the Mafia and Bratva, safety can never be guaranteed.

Then again, Mason is a man made to tame the world. So am I, though I prefer to use compromise more than Mason. A good threat can work wonders as well. But what he’s doing, it’s going to bite us all in the ass if we’re not careful.

I might have thought marriage would have softened him. And it has in some ways. But in others, he’s become sharper. Harder. It’s like he’s got even more reason to fight.

A soft knock sounds on the door that I ignore.

“Safety is a worthy goal.” I lightly tap the desk. “But…”

“Not you too,” his voice gains back its sharp edge. “My brothers would have me shrink our holdings, make ourselves smaller. But to me, that would only be a weakness.”

“I see your point.” I clear my throat. “But Dimitri Ivanov is a coiled snake and deserves a careful hand. Move too quickly, or too aggressively, and he will bite.”

“He can bite, just as long as after, we make him grovel.”

Dimitri Ivanov doesn’t grovel. He does occasionally bargain, however. I have no doubt Mason will win this fight. But how long it lasts, how many hits Dimitri lands, and who else is ruined is all up for debate.

“If begging is your end game, you’re going to have to be patient.”

“Hmph,” he rumbles, but doesn’t argue, clearly ready to put the conversation to rest. “Now seems like a good time to ask, how is Honeyeh? Has she come in for an interview?”

Honeyeh. My balls tighten just thinking about the little waitress who is about to become a maid. “Interviewing right now.”

“Good. Take care of her, Triston. She’s precious to Charlotte, which means…”

“Understood.” I hang up the phone running a hand down my jaw. It’s an easy task in theory. Hiring Honeyeh. But in other ways, it’s going to make my life difficult.

Another knock sounds at the door. Lifting my head, I call, “Come in.”

Only one of two people would interrupt me in the middle of the day by knocking. My administrative assistant or my staff manager. Both are welcome to do so any time, day or night.

But I can only assume that Mrs. Raith is at the door and the interview is over.

I look at my watch as she steps into the room. Honeyeh was early, I noted the time the gate unlocked but even considering that, it was a short interview.

“Mrs. Raith.”

“Mr. Smith.” She bobs her chin, the American version of the curtsy.

I wait, leaning back in my chair.

“Interview went very well. She’s sweet, well-mannered, and should have the right work ethic for a position on our staff.”

I frown. I know I’ve hired Honeyeh as an employee, but I’m not interested in watching her scrub floors.

Not only is she connected to Mason but there is something so delicate about her. Giving her my card was a momentary lapse in judgment, a reaction that had to be quickly covered.

Mason and I are on delicate ground and messing with his wife’s friend isn’t going to strengthen my position.

Which perhaps means I shouldn’t have hired her to work in my house, but it was the only position for which she was even remotely qualified. “Where are you thinking of placing her?”

“Kitchen.”

I frown. “Doing what?”

“Dishes. She has experience there.”

The creases on my brow deepen. “Any other possibilities?”

Mrs. Raith’s mouth twitches. “Laundry. Housekeeping would also be acceptable if you’d prefer.”

“Something light duty.” I can’t pay her to just hang about the house all day.

But I watched her, with her delicate frame, trying to move tables with a man twice her size and it was completely ridiculous.

I rumble with frustration at the trap I’ve made for myself.

If I wanted to fuck her, I should probably just do it, and then send her on her way with a generous parting gift. Then again, Mason is clearly invested in Smith Enterprises, and for my future plans to move forward, I’ll need Mason’s support.

Which means keeping my hands off Honeyeh. I don’t date anyone for longer than a month. It’s an iron rule that keeps women from getting too attached. And as my business plans will not develop in such a short time, I need to leave the tempting new maid alone.

“Light duty? Should I have her dust?” Mrs. Raith eyes me with understandable suspicion. She is an excellent manager of my household, discreet, agreeable, but with enough grit that the staff follows her without complaint or incident.

“Dusting works,” I nod, rising from my chair. “Where is Honeyeh now?”

The woman’s brows lift a fraction on an inch. The change is almost indiscernible, but I catch the judgment. It was unlike her and unwelcome. I stare back until she answers, “My office. Door is open.”

Striding out of my office, I head down the back stairs. Adjusting the tie at my neck, I smooth it down as I make my way down the stairs. I stop in the doorway, catching sight of Honeyeh. She nips at her lip, fiddling with the pen as she stares at the papers in front of her.

A pretty little dress drapes down her body, her feet crossed at the ankles with strappy sandals decorating them.

Her skirt had ridden up a bit, revealing a generous length of her legs and I devour the view, as she reads the papers in front her, oblivious to my watchful gaze.

Her mouth purses, her bottom lip puffing out as her brow furrows. I’d like to stare at her all day but… “Need help?”

She jumps, the pen falling from her hand and landing on the floor as she gives a small yelp. “Mr. Smith.”

“Triston,” I correct. There is no point in pretending this isn’t partially personal. And the entire staff will understand the distinction. Honeyeh might be a maid, but she is here by my grace and that of the Kincaids.

I know I’m dancing with trouble, but I want to hear my name on her lips.

I step into the room and drop down on a knee to retrieve the pen.

But she bends down too, our hands meeting on the pen, my fingers covering hers.

Her skin is as silky as I’d imagined, and I stroke my thumb over the back of her hand.

Her head snaps up, her eyes wide, her lips only a few inches from mine as they softly part in surprise. “Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Smith—er—Triston.”

My cock stiffens. “No need.” I don’t make any attempt to move, her heady honey-floral scent filling my nostrils. “How’s the paperwork coming?”

“Good.” She starts to pull back, but I tighten my grip on her hand. This was a bad idea. I should just fuck her. “I was…um…reading the nondisclosure.”

“Were you? Most people just sign. I actually have Mrs. Raith review that section with employees on their first day to be sure every employee understands.”

She nips at her lip. “I’m a pre-law major, so I guess, maybe, I read contracts differently from most people.”

“Pre-law? Interesting choice.” I finally let her go, knowing I’ve pushed past the edge of acceptable already.

She straightens up, taking the pen with her. “I think the legal system and the principles of democracy in the United States are wonderful. I’d love to be part of it.”

I should have asked her this question before I hired her as a maid. I could have brought her on as an assistant to an assistant in the real estate office. It would have better experience for her and then she wouldn’t be in my house.

Then again, a whole bunch of the men who work there would be free to ogle her. I stiffen in a bit of irritation at the idea of other men’s eyes on her. Jesus fucking Christ, I cannot afford to become possessive. “What year are you in school?”

Her hands clasp in her lap. “Only a sophomore.”

No wonder she seems so innocent. “Just two years into your degree?”

“I can only afford to take a few classes at a time, and so it’s taking a long time.”

How old does that make her? I stand back up, my eyes glancing to the pile of papers in front of her. “Did you need any help?” This is Mrs. Raith’s job, not mine. But again, Honeyeh is not a normal hire.

Honeyeh shakes her head. “No. Thank you, though.”

I don’t want to leave, which is a big fucking problem.

I could barely concentrate on the call with Mason and I’m about to offer to take her on a tour of my house, just to spend more time with her, when my phone dings that someone is at the gate.

I pull the phone from my pocket, a text message immediately popping up that Veronica has arrived.

I should be relieved. Veronica will be an excellent reminder of why touching Honeyeh is a bad idea.

Then again, Veronica is abrasive on a good day. Spoiled. Entitled. She has a difficult time taking no for an answer, which means she’s not taking the break-up well.

It doesn’t matter that I was clear. But Veronica isn’t used to being held to rules.

“In that case, I’ll leave you to your paperwork.” I turn to leave, Mrs. Raith passing by the doorway to her office to answer the door.

I’m about to close the door to the office, but the sound of Veronica pounding on the front door before Mrs. Raith has a chance to reach it, stills my hand. I let out a rumble, not appreciating how this meeting is starting.

Veronica knew the terms. I date women for one month. That’s it. But every one of the ladies thinks she will be the exception to my rule. That she will be the one who changes my mind and my ways and turns me into husband material.

Like I said, Veronica has always been more of everything. And she definitely thinks she’s special. Whatever she’s here to say will not be pretty.

Not that I care.

But Honeyeh is about to hear it all. It’s part of being on the staff, but it would have been nice…

It’s no use playing out what ifs now. I wanted to keep Honeyeh at a distance and Veronica is about to help me accomplish that goal. I leave the door open and step into the hall.

Mrs. Raith answers the door, Veronica yelling before she’s even through the door. “Where is he? I want to see that rat fucking bastard so he can tell me we’re done to my face.”

Honeyeh emits a soft cry behind me. I know it’s a sound of distress, but my cock still twitches. It’s the pretty kind of noise that women sometimes make when they…

“Ms. Clairmont. Good to see you.”

“Please, Mrs. Raith, don’t placate me. Like we don’t both know that I was just the next number on his roster of women. I mean, I knew he was a low-life scumbag, with a filthy cock, but I thought he might see reason this time.”

Clearing my throat, I step into the entry, just wanting this one over and done.

But the moment that Veronica sees me, her face twists into a rage. “You English bastard!” she cries, her hands clenching into fists.

There are a lot of names I can be called, and some of the ones she first lobbed landed with some accuracy. But English aristocracy takes the term bastard seriously. As the spare to a dukedom, a bastard is one of the few insults I am not. “Wonderful to see you too, Veronica.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” she stomps toward me, her Jimmy Choos clapping on my marble floor. “You ‘terminated our relationship’ via a Docusign?”

Docusign is efficient. “You weren’t nearly as irritated when I asked you to sign the initial relationship agreement with the termination date clearly stated.”

She huffs, “That’s because I thought?—”

I know what she thought, I don’t need her to finish.

“I’m sorry to have disappointed you, Veronica, but I was nothing but honest.”

Her lip curls. “Honest? That you were using me for sex? Or was it to further your career?”

I softly snort. The sex was mediocre at best and while she did make good tabloid fodder, it hardly helped me close any deals. The truth is, she was another pretty face to pass the time even if her father was a successful investment banker two decades ago.

She opens her mouth to yell some more, but then stops again, her eyes going over my shoulder, narrowing.

My jaw tightens because I already know that Honeyeh has stepped out of Mrs. Raith’s office.

Veronica’s hands unclench just enough that her nails resemble claws. And they’re aimed right at Honeyeh.

“Who is that?” she hisses, her lip curling as her gaze slides down Honeyeh. “Your next conquest? Are you ordering your women brought in from abroad now?”

“Veronica,” my voice takes on the sharp note I was trying to avoid. I want to scare Honeyeh off from thinking we might have a personal relationship, not permanently damage her. “Abusing my staff is expressly forbidden in the contract.”

“Staff? Are you hiring maids to suck your cock now?” She spits, looking back at Honeyeh. “Don’t do it. He’s a soulless animal who will devour you and then leave your carcass to rot.”