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17

KILIAN

I make my way through the private entrance of one of the newer clubs in London. The beat of the bass is reverberating through the walls as I make my way to a darkened VIP table on the third level of the club. These days I am always using private entrances and darkened hallways to go anywhere in public where I may be recognized. But as the years have passed since my “death” the memory of Kilian Bancroft has faded. Which makes my life somewhat easier. And I know as more years pass, the memory of the man I used to be will be completely forgotten. Maybe then I will have the freedom I’ve wanted.

“What can I get you to drink?”

I look up to see a scantily clad waitress standing inside the small room. “Redbreast fifteen year.”

She smiles. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch her ass as she goes. A silver fringed skirt that does nothing to cover the bottom of her round cheeks. Her back is bare, only a thin string holding the small top on. I sigh as I watch her go. I have no interest in her. If it were a month ago, things would be different. I know how the owners of these clubs expect their waitresses to treat guests like me. If I ask for her to suck my dick she is encouraged to do so. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of the waitresses in these clubs. Most are willing to ride my dick, even offer to and I wouldn’t be surprised if this girl is no different. That’s the elusiveness of these places. Private memberships for the richest of the rich. And there are no rules. The waitresses are paid well enough and most enjoy sex so that it isn’t a job for them.

She walks back in with my drink and sets it on the table in front of me. Her hand lands on my knee. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks, her hand slowly sliding closer to my dick.

I take her hand off my leg. “No,” I say with a stern voice.

An irritated look crosses her face. “Mr. Arrington said—”

“I don’t give a shit what he said. Leave.” My voice is harsh and I could give a shit how I sound. I don’t want this woman. Or any woman other than the one that spent three nights in my arms in Malta.

I slam back my entire drink, annoyance building. I knew Roland would tell his staff to offer their services but it’s the last thing I want.

A new waitress comes into the booth and drops off another drink for me. This one doesn’t say a word and I don’t look at her. I just watch the crowd of young people below.

“Is it necessary to snap at my staff?”

I run my finger along the rim of my glass as it sits perched on my knee. “When they touch me without my permission it is.”

“What crawled up your ass?” Roland laughs as he takes a seat across from me.

I turn to face him. “Long day.”

He nods and snaps his fingers at the new waitress standing near the entrance to the room. She quickly turns away.

“Your father has been working you to the bone?”

I raise a brow at him. “How do you know?”

“I overheard Daddy dearest.”

I smirk at him. “I didn’t realize you were one for gossip.”

He chuckles as he spreads his arms out on the back of the booth. “You know I love gossip. It got me to where I am.”

I shake my head at him and prop my feet on the table between us. The waitress quickly returns with a bottle of Redbreast, a bottle of Beluga Epicure, an ice bucket, and a glass. Roland runs his hand along the back of her thigh while she is bent over the table filling his glass with vodka. He smacks her ass when she stands.

“Good girl.” He then pulls her onto his lap, squeezing her side and by the look on her face, I can tell she is nervous. “Next time, make sure this is already here or else I’ll remove you from VIP and put you back on the floor.”

“Yes, sir,” she says meekly.

“And speak with confidence. Make sure the men want you.”

“Yes, sir,” she says louder, her chest pushing out as she says it.

He runs a finger along her breasts and I watch a shiver roll down her spine. “Good girl.” He helps her stand and smacks her ass again. “Tie the curtain and don’t come in unless you are called for.”

“Yes, sir,” she says again before doing as he says.

“New toy?” I ask.

He shrugs. “We’ll see. She wanted to work this floor and did fine at the second-level table service. But as soon as I moved her up here, she got shy. You know some of the assholes on this floor like the shy ones but I worry they may take advantage.”

“Sounds like she crawled under your skin.”

He laughs before sipping his extremely overpriced vodka. “Nah. But I am hoping she crawls into my bed eventually. Did you see those tits?”

“Nothing special to me.”

“Is Kilian Bancroft really turning down a piece of ass?”

I sip my whiskey and look out into the crowd. “Not in the mood.”

“So something did crawl up your ass?” he chuckles.

“Some days I’m not in the mood,” I say blandly before leaning over the table and pouring myself another drink.

Roland and I grew up together. Our family’s estates on the same streets. He was a little shit when we were little and now he is a bigger shit. I blame the fact he’s younger than me by four years. But I love the guy. How can I not? We are one and the same. Both cocky assholes who get everything we want. Our fathers both have seats at the table with The Partners. Something neither of us knew until a year ago when both our fathers brought us in and groomed us to take over. But Roland has one too many loose screws. He makes mistakes. I’ve seen them. And I know he won’t get the seat he is dying for anytime soon.

“How are the clubs doing?” I ask.

“Exponentially profitable as usual. And ever since this one opened four months ago, there is always a line to get in.”

“You have naked men and women swinging above the crowd on swings and ropes. Everyone wants to see it with their own eyes.”

“It was one of my better ideas.”

“You’ve always had a taste for the extreme.”

He throws back the rest of his vodka. “It pays the bills.”

I shake my head. The man doesn’t need to work. His family is deeply involved in the oil business and they have enough money to live off billions for centuries. Not to mention their involvement with The Partners. But Roland always was a daredevil, a risk-taker. As a kid, he did a few too many wild things that caused a few broken bones. And once he went to college, he had more fun playing with coeds than actually getting an education. When he told me he wanted to open a club I knew he would succeed. He is as much of a playboy as me. And the two of us easily drew in a crowd when he opened his first club. Now he has ten. Four in London, the rest around the world. All places where the rich can indulge in sexual activities if they pay the right price. I am still waiting for the day he opens a sex club.

“So what’s going on?” I ask.

“The Holmes family closed off our access to their offshore account we were funneling money through.”

“I told you we never should have brought them in.”

He tosses ice into his glass. “It was a rookie mistake.”

“I’m surprised my father even approved of that acquisition.”

Roland pours vodka over the ice. “It was one of my first. I think he was teaching me a lesson.”

“Did you talk to your father about it?”

He snorts. “What do you think he said? He told me I needed to learn my lesson somehow.”

“Have you been in contact with them?”

“They won’t answer my calls.”

“Have you used any of our mercenaries to encourage them with a little force?” I ask as I lean my elbows onto my knees.

“Before I did that, I was hoping to ask you about that account you had in Boston. The senator.”

I shake my head. “They were already involved in illegal shit. I just found someone weak enough to believe my lies about being related to the family. I gave her the information to expose them and she did. The company folded. And I got the money out and anything tying us to them wiped before the feds even looked into it.” I drink a sip of my drink. “Holmes didn’t do anything. Just needed help with their failing business. That’s why I never bring those men in. They are weak. And they have nothing we can hold against them.”

“So you suggest I have someone killed?” he asks.

I lean back in the booth. “Or kidnap someone.” I shrug with indifference. “Someone weak like that will shit their pants out of fear and pay out.”

“You were always good at this game,” Roland says to me with a look of sincerity in his eyes.

“It’s business, not a game.” My response is sullen. This is the reason Roland isn’t ready to take a seat at the table. His father didn’t groom him like mine did. He is too careless, too reckless at times.

His gaze moves to the dance floor, either watching the crowd or watching his employees. I’m surprised when he speaks. “I never understood why you did what you did for the Montfords.”

I feel my chest tighten but I act like his words don’t affect me. “Bastian and I go way back.”

“Not as far as you and I.”

“But we were born into this. He wasn’t.”

He turns to look at me and his eyes narrow. “But I thought this was business.”

I tilt my head at him, my gaze condemning. “It is.”

“Why do you seem like you don’t want that seat?”

I shrug. “Maybe because I’m not a bastard like you.”

He leans back in his chair, a sinister smile on his face. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“It’s the truth.” I pause and sip my whiskey. “You want this more than anyone.”

“I never understood why you don’t.” His voice is curious.

I run my fingers along the top of my glass. “I used to. But maybe after twenty years of being the villain and acting like the saint, I’m finally over it. I’m tired.”

“You don’t have much of a choice, Kilian.”

I nod, well aware of the few choices I have left in this life. “I know.” I turn my head and look back at the crowd. Both of us sitting in silence for a while.

He clears his throat. “Your father asked me to take care of the Renzettis.”

I snap my head to him. “He did what?”

“It’s why I called for this meeting. I knew it was your job to handle them.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?” My fist clenches around my glass.

Roland shakes his head. “I have no idea. He called me this morning. That’s why I texted you. I didn’t know if it was a setup.”

I close my eyes and let the anger wash through me. I take a deep breath before I say anything. “I don’t know what my father is doing. But I spent months looking for Nicolas Di Masio. I found him, he’s Ezio Renzetti, as you know, I presume.” Roland nods. “I’ve tracked him to somewhere between Southern Italy and Sicily. I have a contact.”

“More shipments go missing?”

I nod. “Alistair isn’t happy at the speed I am working. I’m usually faster. But this fucker is hard to find.”

“Why not go after the Renzettis directly?”

I run a hand through my hair. “Because I don’t want one of the biggest mafia families putting hits on us.”

“Makes sense.”

I question whether or not to tell him any more, but if he came to me with this, I hope he is on my side and not my father’s. “My contact has led me to believe even the Renzettis don’t know where Ezio is.”

“You think he went rogue?”

I finish the last of the whiskey in my glass. “I’m not sure.”

Roland nods. “I won’t do anything. I’ll play along. Just tell me what you know and I’ll pretend I’m doing it.”

I can hear the sincerity in his voice. He’s never wronged me. He has no reason to. At the end of the day, we both have seats being handed to us at the head of The Partners. We aren’t competition. But I still need to be careful. I never know how deep my father can dig his claws. Or what he has planned. Even if he has me watching over Roland.

Roland leans over the table and pours another drink for each of us. “Shall we have some fun and get shit-faced like old times?”

I laugh as I pick my drink up off the table. “You mean like every time we hang out at one of your clubs?”

He grins at me as he texts someone on his phone. Within seconds, four of his employees come into the room. “I brought you your favorite,” he says with a nod to a petite blonde who walks in behind the girl from earlier.

She sits on my lap, her lips going to my neck. Normally I would fuck this girl. Her pussy is tight as hell but she isn’t what I want. Isn’t what I crave.

I pick her up and set her on the seat next to me. “Unfortunately, Roland, I have some business to attend to tonight.”

He raises his brows at me but nods. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you turn down pussy.”

I ignore his statement. “Enjoy your night,” I say as the timid girl from earlier crawls on his lap.

“You know I will.” He winks at me just as another girl starts sucking on his neck.

I walk out of the room, closing the curtains behind me. No doubt he will be fucking all four of them.

* * *

I wipe the sweat off my brow as I run on the treadmill in my penthouse. Anger and frustration sweating out of my pores. And I accept it. If I run it off, at least I won’t take my animosity out on anyone in a different way.

Ever since I got back from Malta, I keep replaying all the conversations I had with Bella. Especially the ones about my involvement in The Partners. She asked me what I wanted. The first person to ask me that in a long time. For the last twenty years of my life, I’ve done what I’m told. Played the role I was meant to play. The villain that everyone thinks is the good guy. I’ve ruined so many lives in the last twenty years. But I don’t feel remorse. I couldn’t care less about the people I dragged into this underworld. They wanted it, I just held the bait.

But Bella asking me what I want made me think about things deep inside of me. Recently, I thought I wanted to get out. But according to the world, I am a dead man. Where would that lead me? Hiding away on an island somewhere until enough years pass that no one recognizes me? I know deep inside of me I still crave power. I like being in control, having others bend to my will. Maybe I am a fool for thinking The Partners aren’t my destiny. Maybe they are. But I don’t want to prove myself to my father. I don’t want to be the completely cruel man that he is.

I still have a heart. I still care for some people. My brothers. My mom. The Montfords. Bella. My list may be short. But I know I am not as callous as my father.

Roland noticed too. He saw that I wasn’t in this a hundred percent. That I’ve retreated and just gone along with things instead of being proactive. Maybe I am confused and don’t know what I want.

I turn off the treadmill and head over to the punching bag. Anything to get me out of my head. Anything to get me to figure out what the hell it is I want.

Too bad the one thing I am irrevocably sure that I want is the one thing I have to fight to have.

I grunt as I slam my fists over and over again into the punching bag. Sweat dripping down my face, my back. My muscles aching from every move I make.

The only thing that makes me stop is the sound of my phone ringing. I see my father’s name on the screen. I clench my hand around my fist as I go to pick it up. I called him immediately after leaving Roland at the club three nights ago and he is finally getting back to me.

“Hello,” I answer, keeping my voice steady.

“Kilian, you said you needed to meet with me in your voice mail.”

I don’t miss the smugness in his voice. “It took you three days to call me back.”

“I’ve been busy.” I hear him shuffling papers on his desk in the background. “But if you would like to meet with me, I am in the office today. I’ll be free in thirty minutes.”

He doesn’t say anything and just hangs up.

I slam my fist one more time into the bag for good measure. Then take a quick shower.

I speed over to the Bancroft Enterprises office. I slam my car into park in the underground garage and head to the elevator that leads directly to his private floor.

The door opens to the hall across from the side door to his office. I don’t bother knocking and barge in.

“Kilian,” he says. No surprise in his voice.

“What the fuck is this about you handing the Renzettis off to Roland?”

He turns in his office chair to face me. The wrinkles around his mouth pointed down as he frowns at me. “You’ve been looking for that man for over six months. You are not moving fast enough.”

“I am working on it as best I can,” I grit through my teeth.

“You’re weak, son. I never should have chosen you for this.” Venom leaks from his mouth as he says, “I don’t even want to call you my son. You fail at so many things. I should have had Grayson or Liam take over for me. I thought you would succeed with your charm and your personality. But you let your feelings get in the way.”

I clench my fists at my sides as I stand in the middle of his obnoxiously large high-rise office. “I do not let my feelings get in the way.”

He laughs at me. “We both know you do. Do we need to have this conversation again? The one on how you took Bastian and Thiago Montford from me. You lost some of my best assets. Even the fuckup Matías was better than you.”

“They wanted out. You worked with Thiago. You allowed him to pay an abhorrent amount of money to get out. And instead you took his life.”

“You know The Partners had nothing to do with the death of Thiago Montford.”

I scoff. It’s always been the one thing my father has never admitted. The one thing that all The Partners deny. “I gave those men their lives back and gave you mine.”

“And it seems like a waste.”

I hold back my retort, my anger. All the wretched things I want to say to him. If I had the courage, if I had brought my gun, I would kill him now. Maybe I am weak. At least around him because instead of standing up for myself, I fold into one of the chairs across from his desk. “I will find Ezio Renzetti. I’m close.”

He ignores my statement and changes the subject. “I need you to close the deal with Hayward Shipping. He’s ready to join. And we need that business. They will make trade easier in Australia and the Philippines.”

I hold back my smart-ass remarks. I am well aware of why we need them. I am the one that got my hooks in them. Seduced them to the dark side. Did the job I’ve been given since I found out about The Partners. The job I’ve done for the last twenty years. The one where I convinced my best friend to join with his brother. “Consider the deal closed. I have a meeting with him tonight.”

My father looks pleased. “Good. Then I need you at the docks in Athens for the next shipment. It’s scheduled for Monday night.”

“Why are you putting me at the docks? That is a job far below mine. Roland should be there and Dimitri can handle it like he always does. There is nothing I need to check on. Not for this.”

His brow pinches as he looks at me. “Because you don’t seem to have your priorities straight.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m working on finding Ezio Renzetti. He is hard to find. Even Giancarlo Renzetti doesn’t know where he is.”

“Roland is taking care of that now. He seems much more motivated to take his father’s seat, unlike my own son.”

“I’m handling the Renzettis. No one else is,” I command.

“Is that because you are fucking one of them? Is that what you mean by handling them?”

I clench my jaw. How the hell does he know that? “What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head at me then opens a file drawer at his desk. He drops the file open and shoves a picture toward me. “It looks like it’s hard to find Ezio when your head is stuck between the legs of his sister.”

I mentally count backward from ten to not flip the fuck out on my father. The picture he’s pointing at is a picture of me taking Bella’s sandals off on the beach before I dragged her behind the rocks. The moment captured when I inhaled her scent through her dress. The rest of the photos on his desk are all from Malta. Us at the bar, my hands under her skirt. Us eating dinner, her hand over mine. Us in the ocean, her body wrapped around mine.

“I’m fucking her to get information on her brother,” the lie slipping easily from my mouth. “She means nothing to me.”

My father studies me and I think for a second he believes me. Until he says, “Give Roland whatever information you have. Let him fuck the brother’s location out of her if he needs to. I know he doesn’t mind sticking his dick wherever he wants.”

“Father,” I say, but he holds up a hand, cutting me off.

“You want to prove to me you are worthy of being a Partner then do as I say. Roland’s father is concerned with your behavior, just as Hajar and Kozlov are. I might not kill my own son but I guarantee the others will not hesitate if you betray us again.”