Page 91 of Captured

While Axe had wanted to learn the turnout of where the prince and his men had gone after we’d left, the fact that we’d waited until the ten men scurried out of the hotel, screeching away in their rented SUVs had told me all I needed to know.

I glanced at the online newspaper, wishing I had an alcoholic beverage in my hand. I’d gone ahead and sent information to Mickey, including very graphic photographs. Of course, a copy was now headed to both the FBI and the chief of police. Now the man would owe me a huge debt for the rest of his life. I liked being in this position.

Plus, Mickey had significantly improved his skills over the years, his writing style amazing for the article he’d penned. He’d taken the documentation on Gideon and run with it. I could only imagine what the foundation board members were doing now. Probably wheezing into empty liquor bottles.

As I heard a knock on the door, I grinned. It was time for a show. Assuming everything had gone as planned, I would be leaving for the island in just a few hours. But not before I did a little shopping for my sweet sparrow.

“What is it, Axe?”

He opened the door, already chomping at the bit. “Your brothers are here. Do you want me to send them in?”

“I do.”

“So you know, I purchased you physical copies of the Boston Globe. I couldn’t help myself. I was out at four this morning to ensure I was able to grab a few of them.”

I grinned when he tossed the beautiful smelling old-fashioned newspaper onto my desk. The front page was a tell-all for how you handle your enemies.

“You’re a good man, Axe. Let’s get this party started.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

I was standing in front of the window, waiting not so patiently. It was amazing how much of a better mood I was in now that all the pieces were falling into place. Well, by cutting the edges and making them fit, but I felt like I was king of the jungle.

“Welcome to my beautiful home,” I said as soon as I heard footsteps.

“You’re in a good mood for a change,” Easton said, not so chipper himself.

“That means he’s up to something,” Creed added, laughing in his usual evil manner.

“Come now, brothers. When was the last time we were in the same room together?”

“The last annual meeting we dared attend together. I think that was six years ago,” Easton offered. “Not our finest hour.”

“True.” We got into a fight that ended up in needing new conference room furniture. I couldn’t remember what it was over. “However, we have reason to celebrate.” I glanced at Axe, nodding at his silent request to allow him to stay for the festivities. My soldier had laid out the pieces, including the fact that in going into business with the prince, the cartel would be effectively shoved out of their attempt to move into the world of oil.

“And what might that be?” Creed asked, acting his usual arrogant self. I almost admired the man. He’d come a long way in his ruling of the family regime, even if I hadn’t wanted to give him any credit.

“Have you gentlemen ever thought about getting into the oil business?”

“What are you talking about?” Easton asked after glancing at Creed. “We make weapons as well as other tactical gear for various military and corporate entities willing to pay the price. We don’t need another business.”

I glanced at my brother, smirking. “You think I’ve forgotten? And I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“You have been galivanting all over the world in your desire to take out your aggression on anyone and everyone for a hefty price tag.” Creed’s cheap shot was exactly the same as usual. Only after five hundred times, they no longer bothered me.

Or was that because of Emily’s influence?

“Yes, that’s been the case up to this point.”

“We can’t get in the oil business. Our stocks continue to slip because someone is issuing false information.” Easton was still clearly on top of our financials.

“Yes, but I believe when the market opens today, you’ll learn that our stocks are on the verge of soaring.” I pulled the very lucrative contract I’d signed with the prince into my hands, taking a look at the billion-dollar figures that would only continue to increase. I handed it to Easton first before heading for the television, grabbing the remote.

A solid two minutes passed of flipping pages of the contract, one of them whistling.

“Is this for real?” Creed coughed when asking.

“Yes, it is. And Gideon wouldn’t be very happy that we’d taken all the power out of his hands, including working with his business partner,” I told them, already grinning when I finally turned on the television. Oh, look. There was about to be a special report, but wait. There was a reporter in front of Liam’s estate. “Oh, look. There’s been a horrific murder in town. I think we know him. Liam Jacobs.”

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