Page 40 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

A Big Step for Us

I’m so focused on putting a bid together since the client will start accepting bids this Thursday that I don’t even realize I’ve worked well into the evening. The final touches are coming together, and I’m ready to present this.

I’m ready to win this.

I don’t know if there’s ever been a project I’m so passionate about. Actually, scratch that. There never has been. I know there hasn’t.

Rumor has it they’re only accepting a few bids, and I’m prepared to go in swinging.

If I can win this client for VBC in California, my dad will see that I’m a valuable asset out there.

It’s sort of my way of proving I deserve to stay there a while, even though I’m sure I don’t need to do that. Maybe I need to prove it to myself.

I’ve spent so much of my time recently feeling like everything is out of my control. If I can win this, I’ll be back in the driver’s seat. I’ll be doing this because I want to, not because I have to. Not because my dad dictated it to be so. Not for anyone else. Just for me.

I glance over at Madden, who’s tapping away on his own laptop across the table. “Date nights used to be a lot more romantic,” I say, and he chuckles.

“I can order us in some dinner if you’re getting hungry,” he offers.

I nod. “Or…” I say, drawing out the word. “We could go down to the West Loop for dinner and see what’s going on over there.”

He raises his brows. “Together?”

“You can wear a hat. I can, too. We’ll disguise ourselves.”

“Why didn’t I think of that? You’re so goddamn sexy when you’re being all smart.”

I laugh, and I close my laptop as I lean back in my chair and stretch. “Back at you, Bradley.”

We head to Verde, where we eat way too much pasta, and we take a long walk afterward only to find the same man positioned out in front of the warehouse for a second night in a row.

Madden ducks out of view, and we watch from nearly a block away as he lets someone in a suit into the warehouse.

A few moments later, he lets in a couple. Another man in a suit.

“What the fuck?” Madden murmurs. “Flooring storage my ass.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and he taps on the screen. “Aha!” he says a little triumphantly.

“What?”

“The deepfake came through. We can’t use it now, obviously. My father might already be in there. But before sunrise, we’re coming back.”

“We?” I ask, a little nervous to be brought in on this plan.

He looks at me, and I’m surprised at the vulnerability in his eyes. “You’ve been with me this whole time. Don’t abandon me now.”

I nod. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We head back to his place, and we head to bed early since tomorrow will be an early morning .

And early it is. It’s half-past four when the alarm goes off, and I’m snuggled into Madden’s side and don’t particularly care to get out of bed.

He jumps right up, though, eager to get to this warehouse and check things out.

I follow suit, throwing on a pair of leggings and a black shirt. We head out, park a few blocks away, and walk the rest of the way. The anticipation is killing me, and I’m one part terrified and one part thrilled he asked me to be here with him.

This is trust. This is a big step for us.

We stop a block away again to take a peek at what we’re getting into only to find it’s deserted at this hour. We check all around us as we make our way toward the warehouse, both for safety and to make sure we’re alone.

We are. We get to that same facial recognition panel by the door, and Madden pulls up the video the hacker guy sent him. He flashes it at the screen, and we both wait with bated breath for a moment before we hear the click of a lock and neon words light up beneath the device.

Access Granted .

He pulls open the door, and we both look around as we step inside. Madden shines a flashlight. It’s a quiet, deserted warehouse, just like it was the first night we walked in.

Rows and rows of shelves containing various flooring materials are before us, and Madden starts to slowly walk through the aisles.

I follow closely behind him, certain I don’t want to get lost in here without him. This is actually sort of scary, to be completely honest, and my heart is racing and beating so loudly I can hear it echoing in my ears.

We continue walking the aisles looking for anything out of the ordinary, but there doesn’t seem to be anything. “Do you think this really is just a warehouse?” I finally whisper.

He presses his lips together. “No, I don’t.” He glances back at me. “There’s something here, and we’re going to find it. Maybe it’s not in the aisles at all, but maybe it’s…” He trails off as we round the corner and start down the next aisle.

There’s a patch of carpet on the floor, almost as if it fell off a shelf. We walk toward it, and he kicks it out of the way.

And when he does, he reveals a manhole cover.

In the middle of a warehouse.

Our eyes lock as we both wonder what the hell that manhole cover is covering.

On closer inspection, we see a keypad on the cover. Madden taps six digits into it, and the cover pops open.

“How’d you know?” I whisper.

“My parents’ anniversary. My dad uses that PIN number for everything. It was the same as our home security system growing up.”

It’s not the smartest move, but I think about my own parents and their penchant for living in the past. They use the same password on every account despite the warnings given to create unique passwords.

He pulls open the cover, but it doesn’t lead anywhere.

Instead, we hear a clicking sound near the far wall, the one opposite the entrance of the warehouse.

We walk over in the direction of the sound, and we see that a hidden doorway has popped open right out of one of the concrete walls of this facility.

“What the fuck is this?” Madden murmurs, and he pulls open the door only to be greeted with another facial recognition device blocking our way through a heavy, wooden door.

He flashes his phone with his dad’s image at it, and the deadbolt on the door slides open.

He tries the handle, and the door opens to reveal a staircase.

The contrast between this stunning, luxurious staircase and the concrete warehouse above it is striking.

The stairs as well as the walls surrounding them are all made from black marble with white and gray veins, and I slowly follow Madden down the stairs.

We move to turn the corner, but we’re stopped by a rather large, burly fellow with his arms crossed.

“How’d you get in here?” he grunts at us. He must be the bouncer, here to guard whatever is on the other side of this wall.

“I’m Madden Bradley,” Madden says confidently, as if that explains why he’s here.

“Thomas said none of his kids know about this place. How’d you get in?”

“My father gave me the credentials.” He tries to look around the man at what we’re dealing with here, and I would love to try to look around Madden, but I’m behind him, and he’s blocking my view completely.

“We’re closed.” The man’s tone is firm and finite.

“I know. My father asked me to let you know that I was welcome to take a look around. He asked me to wait until off-hours, but since I’m the incoming Bradley CEO, this is all part of my legacy.

” He sounds convincing enough to me, and meanwhile I’m shaking like a leaf back here.

We’re caught! We’re not supposed to be here!

What the hell is this place? What is the Bradley family caught up in? Are we going to get in trouble?

“I’ll just call him to confirm.”

“At this hour? Don’t be ridiculous. You know after last night, he’ll be asleep. Look, I had the credentials to get this far. Are you really going to disappoint my father further?” Madden demands, and holy hell, he sounds all authoritative and freaking sexy.

“Who’s she?” he asks, nodding at me.

“My assistant.”

The man stares off at Madden a few extra beats, and then he seems to relent. He makes a good point about having the credentials, and the man steps aside. He doesn’t exactly offer a tour, but as soon as I round the corner, I know exactly what I’m looking at.

It’s one of those illegal, underground casinos you only see in movies or TV shows, but this is real life.

The entire place is encased in that beautiful black marble from floor to walls to ceilings, and elegant chandeliers hang above different types of poker tables from blackjack to Texas Hold’em to baccarat.

Leather chairs are pushed in at tables for craps and roulette, and a cashier lines one wall while a bar lines another.

A third wall has counters for sports betting and lottery games, and there’s a small area with a huge screen and gorgeous leather chairs.

It's certainly not like the casinos I’ve been to. This place is high-class, and I’m guessing it’s also high-stakes.

And it would definitely explain where the large sums of cash on Monday mornings are coming from.

“My father mentioned that he wanted to expand the wine menu. I said I’d take a look through the selection,” Madden says to me loudly enough that the burly bouncer dude can definitely hear him.

We head over toward the bar, and he walks behind it to look at the wines.

I, on the other hand, would like to just get the fuck out of here before we get caught down here with burly bouncer dude.

My dad’s words about Thomas Bradley come back to haunt me once more.

He has the kind of connections we can’t fight against. Was this what he meant? Does my dad know about this place? Does he know about the bouncers and the underground, illegal activities?

How did he get started in this? And furthermore, was he ever going to tell his kids about it?

Madden clearly didn’t know. I wonder if the others do? According to the bouncer, no.

Are there more of these, or is this the only location? Does it change each week? Is that why there are four warehouses? Is the time and place a secret that only the members know about?

I have about a million questions and exactly zero answers.

And as I look over at Madden, who is secretly sneaking photos of this place from behind the bar…I realize that at least I’m not alone.