Page 17 of Prodigal

“Do you feel safe here?” She nodded vigorously. “Then of course, I’m sure.” And it was worth it to see the smile that broke out on her face, wobbly at first and then steadier. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and released him, reaching up both hands to Gideon and hugging him around his waist.

“Thank you, Gideon.” She wheeled back to her bedroom. “I’ll be in my room!” she called before the door closed behind her.

Her room.André faced Gideon with a glower, hands fisted. “You did that shit on purpose.”

Gideon shrugged. “I always get what I want, André. Now, let me show you to your room. I had it prepared for you while we were talking in my office.” He started walking.

André didn’t move. “Wait, what?” He’d only just now decided to stay.

“Like I said…” Gideon glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “I always get what I want.”

Gideon tooka deep breath as his pilot touched the helicopter down on the roof of the prison. Visiting a place like this wasn’t high on the list of things he wanted to do, but—like everything he did—it was a necessity.

He waited for Samir and Will to exit the chopper first, then Samir opened the door for him and Gideon stepped out, buttoning his jacket, eyeing the three men waiting for them. At just after two a.m. on a Tuesday morning, this wasn’t your typical visit. But he hadn’t met a person yet, man or woman, who would say no to him.

Actually, no, he had.

He gritted his teeth when he thought about André, shoving the man back into the recesses of his mind. Now wasn’t the time.

“Mister Winters.” John Barrows, the prison’s warden, approached him with an outstretched hand. “Welcome, sir.” There were only two other men with him, but Gideon ignored them. He ignored Barrows’s hand too, jerking his chin toward the building.

“Everything set?”

Barrows lowered his hand and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He was a hulking presence, towering over Gideon in his wrinkled black suit. He had a receding hairline, his dark brown skin dull, eyes bloodshot, looking way older than his sixty-two years. Gideon imagined it was the stuff of nightmares, trying to run a prison that housed some of the worst of humanity.

“Lead the way,” he instructed Barrows, and the man did.

Gideon kept pace with him, his people and Barrows’s a step behind as they entered the prison through a secret entrance. Their footsteps echoed on scratched but shiny floors as theymade their way through winding corridors. They must’ve walked for about ten minutes before Barrows stopped at a door. He opened it with a key, and Samir entered alone first, gun in hand while Gideon waited outside.

When Samir came back out, meeting his gaze before stepping aside, Gideon entered the room.

It was small, with dark carpet and no windows, smelling of something hot and stale that turned Gideon’s stomach. A man waited for him, seated in one of two chairs in the room with his back to Gideon, gray head bowed, clad in prison garb.

Gideon glanced over his shoulder and nodded to Samir, who pulled the door closed, leaving Gideon alone with the man waiting for him. He didn’t lift his head until Gideon stood in front of him, waiting in silence. And when he did look up, he smiled, brown eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“You know who I am?” Gideon asked him.

"Even in here, you can’t escape news about the prodigal son who returned from the dead.”

Lips twitching, Gideon sank into the chair opposite him and leaned back, crossing his ankles as he met the other man's eyes. He’d been a kid the last time he’d seen Warren Choi. To the child Gideon had been back then, Warren had seemed untouchable. He’d worn his wealth and power like armor. Protected. Someone who could never be brought down from his soaring heights. Much like Gideon’s own father. Now, his father was dead and Warren was caged.

Funny how things changed.

It’d taken a few days to set up this meeting once Ree finally answered her father’s call and reported it to Samir. Warren had to be secretly transported to this prison for the meeting since he was housed out of state. The logistics involved a whole lot of money changing hands.

“Do you have what I came for?” he asked Warren.

Warren nodded at the question but didn’t say anything else.

“You want something in return.” Gideon didn’t phrase it as a question because it wasn’t.

Warren cocked his head. “You know, Aldo and I thought for sure you and Rebecca would grow up and marry each other.” He chuckled. “You were each other’s shadow from the moment you met.”

Gideon didn’t speak, nor did he give Warren any indication that the words meant anything to him. Because they didn’t. He’d been an innocent boy then. He was neither of those things now. So he just sat back as Warren kept talking.

“She hates me, you know. Rebecca. Ree.” Warren rubbed his jaw with the hand that wasn’t handcuffed to the back of his chair. “She blames me for her mother. For all of it.”

He did have a part to play in why he was in his current position, but Warren already knew that, so Gideon didn’t bother pointing it out.

---