Page 58 of Royal Flush

I’d done some research late into the night while Jasmine had been sleeping, trying to learn as much as I could about this Honoured Society. I hadn’t needed to google very far to realize they were powerful and comprised of some bad dudes. I’d also called Gage, putting him on notice. He was the family tracker, more so than I’d ever been. Between us, I had a name. The leader was Santini Demage, an Italian immigrant with powerful friends. He was a true savage and considered highly unhinged.

From what I’d learned, the group was brutal, making some of the ones in America seem like model citizens. I’d discovered an article written three years before in one of the Australian papers that appeared to have been buried. It described the close relationship Justin had with the notorious leader, a man who’d provided the Sinclairs with campaign funds.

However, the reporter had been smart enough to realize he could have been sued, merely alluding to the possibilities. He’d left it as a huge question mark. I’d tried to find any additional articles by the man and he’d simply disappeared.

Why did I have the feeling he’d been exterminated?

Gage had found little else other than that the group was supposedly behind some of the most horrific murders in Australian history.

That did me no good.

For all the passion Jasmine and I had shared, her indignation had remained strong. But I did have a feeling the secretary of state’s name had rung a bell of some kind.

Valerio and Gage were actively trying to ensure we didn’t have any additional leaks within our organization as we’d had before. They were also checking with various reliable sources on what the FTC was fucking doing. I’d mentioned the connection with Bishop but given the circles certain men ran in, that wasn’t a smoking gun by any means.

Maybe the visits had been nothing but a warning. Or maybe they’d been a prelude of things to come.

At this point, all I could do was drive Justin into a corner. He’d either come out swinging or would cave like a squealing pig. I was planning on the latter.

If Justin Sinclair was playing both sides, not only was he a fool but he had a target on his head. Perhaps he’d believed he was infallible, able to find enough security in America.

He was a complete fool.

And what did Jameson Bishop have to do with all of this? Officially, I’d learned he had recommended Sinclair for the position, Justin taking leaps and bounds over more qualified men. That suggested another payoff situation. Had my father discovered all of this? And what the hell did it matter?

After stopping Justin in mid-sentence as he’d been screaming at me to release his precious daughter, I’d explained in detail, holding nothing back that he would be dealing with me and that we were going to have a meeting.

We were on the phone long enough he’d likely googled who and what I was. Smart boy.

When he’d suddenly agreed, I’d merely snarled and ended the call.

The rest of the night had been spent watching her fitful sleep.

And trying to put into some perspective why I liked the girl as much as I did.

Why I craved her, body and soul. It didn’t make any sense but here I was, hungering to the point my balls were tight.

I’d called in a couple of favors before leaving the hotel, ensuring that I wouldn’t have an escapee on my hands. The last thing she or I needed was her to try to vanish. In truth, I had an idea of what would be best for her in the interim, but I wanted to have a nice chat with Justin first.

He’d placed his daughter’s life in danger. I didn’t give a shit about his politics, but I refused to allow anything further to happen to her.

The drive certainly wasn’t relaxing, accidents everywhere given the rain but as soon as I pulled up in front of his estate, the gate swung open. I didn’t plan on staying long but as with all things of this nature, it was best to do it in person.

After parking near the massive wooden door and climbing out, I did notice the man had guards positioned in a couple of areas. While they were plain clothed, there was no doubt they were packing.

I’d been through enough security detail in my life to know inexperience when I saw it. If one of the men was this Dugger Abbott, no wonder she’d easily gotten away from him.

I didn’t believe for a second she’d be protected enough here. I smoothed down my suit jacket and headed to the door, knocking twice.

The guards were obviously expecting me, barely providing me with a second look. When the door was opened, I was expecting Justin. Seeing a slightly older carbon copy of Jasmine caught me off guard.

“You must be Braxton Royal.” I don’t know what I was expecting but Mrs. Sinclair wasn’t it. She was smiling as if happy to see me, but I could also see concern in her eyes. I hoped that was about her daughter.

“I am.”

She was staring at me intently, picking me apart as only a woman could do.

And exactly as her daughter had done more than once.

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