Page 37 of Royal Flush

“Fucking tell him, Val,” Gage huffed.

We normally didn’t keep anything from each other, closer than most brothers. I was getting pissed at this point, enough so I had to curtail my increasing level of anger. Being enraged wouldn’t make anything easier.

“Fucking tell me what?”

Valerio was still hesitant. As the oldest son, he’d been the keeper of family legacies and heritage. I had a bad feeling about this.

“Look, Gilly called me about three weeks ago. She mentioned she’d found a hidden compartment in the tool shed outside the house. She was finally getting around to cleaning out Pops’ things.”

Gilly was Gage’s mother, a lovely woman that both Valerio and I felt close to. Her loss and sadness had affected all of us, all three of us ensuring her life was made as easy as possible now. “Pops never stepped foot in that tool shed and you know it. He hired workers to do everything.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t decide to use it to keep certain belongings.”

“What was found?” I was growing weary of the dancing back and forth around this. Okay, I got my brother didn’t want to disparage our father. But if doing so meant the businesses were in danger then I certainly didn’t care if Sebastian Royal’s name was slung through private mud.

“It took me almost a week to stop by.” Valerio was still being a cagey fuck.

“Fine. What the fuck was found? I have a basketball game to watch.”

“It was an entirely different set of names and information than what had been handed to us when we’d opened Royal Players Club.”

“Including?”

“Important diplomats here and abroad. You need to remember that our father had huge plans on opening branches in several countries.”

I narrowed my eyes, still trying to piece together the strange puzzle. “Okay. That list is what, a hundred years old?” I laughed, polishing off my drink after doing so.

“He continued to add to it until he died,” Gage added. So obviously the two of them had chatted before calling me in.

“Great. What does it mean? From what I heard, he made the decision to concentrate his business in the US, only offering services when people stepped foot in the country.” I made the statement, but Dad had never been the kind of man to open up about his tactics or his plans. Even to his own sons.

“It means our father had every tiger, lion, and bear by the balls and then some. My guess is that he held fucking secrets you couldn’t even begin to imagine, prepared to use the information to destroy careers. I don’t know how he garnered as much as it appeared he did and obviously, we can’t ask but what he held inside the padlocked box could turn the world on its ear. Plus, I’ve only scratched the surface as to everything inside the book.” Valerio sighed, glancing out the window.

“What good is it now?”

As it seemed they did so often, Gage and Valerio shared a look.

I didn’t need to hear the specifics to know Valerio was on edge or the reasons for it. There wasn’t a powerful man around who didn’t use some vile secret against their enemy, but I had the distinct feeling we were talking a whole new ballgame. “Let me guess. You think Jameson Bishop would love to get his hands on the information, stopping at nothing to do so.” Maybe I was speaking out loud just to help myself think, but it was the only real reason my older brother could be so unnerved.

Valerio nodded. “I think it’s entirely possible. However, my suspicions can’t be proven at this point, which is troubling. Above all, we need to tread lightly. It’s also possible Pops hadn’t used any of the information. Maybe no one knows we have it.”

“If they do, it’s a perfect reason to create as many headaches as possible. Although a risky game. We could in turn open up all those cans of worms,” I suggested. “Let me guess. That’s what you think has occurred.”

“Yes. Which is why we need to keep our eyes and ears open. Do you remember that charity benefit the three of us were invited to a few months ago?”

I also wasn’t into playing twenty questions. “Vaguely. Isn’t it in DC?”

“It is. A good cause and reason for various diplomats to either attend or donate funds in a public way.”

The typical Washington political game. “I’m not following you.”

“Bishop is going to be there. One of us needs to attend,” Valerio recommended.

“Oh, fuck, no. I’m not political,” I retorted, laughing.

Gage whistled from behind us. “Maybe you’ll have an incentive to jump on a plane.”

“What?” I asked.

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