Page 21 of Angels of the Night

CHAPTER 16

The dim lights and the music performed by one of the most famous string quartets in New York City were a perfect combination, a delight for the senses of everyone attending the Starlight casino's reopening party. The floral arrangements, the interior decorations, furniture and carpets in the great lounge—everything was carefully thought out to make the guests want to try their luck and spend small fortunes in the gambling rooms.

Unlike the lounge, it was well lit and more glamorous, designed to stimulate the gamblers, to induce that adrenaline rush that made them act recklessly, forgetting about the precautions and putting their financial stability at risk. Many of those who came and lost money at the Starlight were druglords or arms dealers who had no idea their money was used for financing a sanctuary for abused and neglected children.

Initially, Ardan only intended to give the casino a makeover, but Alastair Stark, his husband's grandfather, came up with the idea of a total, radical renovation. The new Starlight, he said, was going to be a statement of power, the symbol of its owner's influence and position as the one of the Dragons' House's Supreme Dragons and as an accomplished businessman.

Once renovated, Starlight would become the emblem of the chain of casinos Ardan operated, its reputation drawing new clients to the other establishments, too, keeping the money flow constant. As usual, Alastair Stark was right. The news of Starlight's reopening spread like fire among those who dreamed of getting rich by hitting the jackpot at roulette, blackjack or poker.

Unaware that everything was part of the owner's clever trick meant to attract the richest of the rich, Blair Greenwood looked around the lounge, visibly impressed by the refinement and luxury of the place. To his pleasant surprise, he recognized some of his shabby business partners, but also a few famous movie stars who came there attracted by the Starlight's mirage and the host's special charm.

In disguise, Phillip Winters closely followed Greenwood, casting a venomous look at all the luxury and refinement around him. All those wonderfully crafted art objects and pieces of furniture belonged to the man whose younger brother mercilessly ended the life of the brilliant scientist Conroy Winters. One of these days, the MacNamara family will pay dearly for the crime they committed, Phillip thought, hatefully.

Lost in envious admiration at the sight of the tastefully decorated lounge, the most exquisite and elegant room of that kind he ever set his foot in, Greenwood slowly advanced through the crowd, intending to congratulate the owner on the re-inauguration. At some point, some of the persons in front of him moved, and he could see the man fully.

With his red-haired husband at his side, surrounded by his brothers, their partners and his loyal guards, Ardan MacNamara radiated power and confidence, discreetly dominating everyone in the room. His elegant appearance was hiding an iron will and unbreakable spirit, reflected from time to time in those strange, turquoise eyes, hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses.

Greenwood was only a few yards away from the Starlight's owner, when he gasped in shock, jaw hitting the floor at the sight of the three men heading straight to Ardan and Alasdair. One of them, sporting a remarkable resemblance to the casino's owner, was flanked by the other, younger two and had an arm protectively wrapped around a teen's shoulders.

The three were wearing elegant three-piece suits, tailored to fit, had the same air of confidence as Ardan, but it was the kid who drew Greenwood's attention. Raven-black, shoulder-length hair tied in a loose ponytail, white, buttoned-down dress shirt, indigo jeans, shiny dress shoes, shining eyes and bright smile—he could barely recognize his former sex toy.

However, there was no doubt in Greenwood's mind, the teen standing there, his back against the man's chest was the same one he left for dead in Fabian Bloom's house. Or at least, that's what his associate claimed each time he brought up the subject, the man thought, making a mental note to confront Fabian.

From behind Greenwood, Phillip Winters studied Caleb MacNamara with a hate-filled look, wishing he could take the little bastard's life on the spot, avenging his father's death. The surprises were far from over, both men gasping in shock after only a few minutes when they saw Fabian Bloom, accompanied by his loyal chauffeur and a blond, long-haired boy, heading to the group presided by Ardan.

So that was it, Greenwood thought, the lying bastard was interested in the gambling industry and wanted to become that MacNamara bitch's associate. The fucker was afraid someone else would get there before him. That's why he was so goddamn secretive lately. However, although Greenwood figured out the reason for Fabian's presence there, or at least he thought he did, the blond boy's identity was a mystery to him.

Phillip Winters, on the other hand, recognized his youngest stepbrother Rowan on the spot, and started to wonder what the little cocksucker was doing in a luxurious place like that. It had been almost two years since he saw the scrawny thing in a parking lot, on his knees, choking on a hillbilly's cock, just the way it was supposed to be.

After his father 'borrowed' his wife's ideas and put his name on her work, which contributed to her untimely death, Phillip made the kid's life a living hell. Rowan, twelve at the time, endured the brutal persecutions for two years, then ran away, much to his stepbrother's satisfaction. How the little snot ended up in Fabian Bloom's company was a mystery to Conroy Winters's older son, who was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Unaware of Greenwood's and Phillip's presence, the casino's owner started a conversation with Fabian in a polite, almost friendly tone, the presence of the two teens contributing to the relaxed atmosphere.

“I'm so happy you could make it, Mister Bloom! And I'm even happier that you brought Rowan with you.” Riley spoke in an enthusiastic voice, his sapphire-blue eyes shining with joy, affection and something more, that made his adoptive fathers smile.

“You have to thank your uncle Ardan here. He sent us a special invitation. You are deeply loved, little fellow, and it fills my heart with joy to see that.” A little, melancholic smile played on Fabian's lips as he tentatively touched Riley's strands.

“Will you please introduce us to your little friend here, Mister Bloom? I hope you forgive my curiosity, but I don't think I’ve seen him before.” Although he was smiling, Ardan had a bit of an edge to his voice, and the other man noticed it almost instantly.

“Sure, it's my pleasure to introduce you Rowan Norton, a brilliant kid with a special interest in human genetics. Male pregnancy, to be more specific.” Fabian paused, giving Ardan a piercing stare. “If you don't mind, Mister MacNamara, I would like to continue this conversation someplace else, without so many curious ears around. Also, it would be great if your husband could join us. His expertise is precious.”

“Very well, let's move into my office. You’ve managed to make me even more curious. Brennan, Saint, Zachary, will you please keep an eye on things while I'm gone? Older brother, I'm counting on you and your men to play the gracious hosts.” With a smirk on his sensual lips, Ardan, hand in hand with Alasdair and followed by Fabian and Rowan, stepped out of the lounge, heading to the boss's office.

“Phillip Winters is out of jail, and he has created a volatile substance that modifies the organs of the teenage boys when exposed to it, making the pregnancy possible, without treatment. The compound is highly contagious, a single person could transmit it to other tens or even hundreds, especially in closed communities like orphanages, shelters...or rescue centers.” Fabian stopped to catch his breath, after saying everything in one go.

“Is there a way to stop him? Please, tell me you have a solution to this, or at least an idea. I'll help you with everything I can.” Desperate as he was, Ardan forgot that the man in front of him was once his greatest enemy.

“I don't, but Rowan here does. He is that Conroy bastard's youngest son but is nothing like Phillip. Listen to what he has to say, trust the kid and help him, it's the only chance to save hundreds of innocent lives. You will understand the boy, both of you speak the same language.” Fabian turned to Alasdair, a pleading look in his eyes.

Ardan nodded, and, offering Rowan a warm, paternal smile, invited him to talk. Hesitating at first, the boy started to present his theories, the methods he used in the process, the obstacles he encountered and how they were surpassed. Pleasantly impressed by the teenager's approach, Alasdair nodded in approval, and, from time to time, asked him to explain an aspect or another.

Each time, the answers were detailed, complex and prompt to the redhead's satisfaction and pleasant surprise. The kid really had it in him. He would be a great genetics specialist one day, Ardan's husband thought, smiling internally. From the corner of his eye, he could see the fatherly pride in his rogue uncle's eyes, and although he was happy for Rowan, Alasdair couldn't help to think of how cruelly Fabian rejected poor Quinlan.

“What do you think, Doctor Stark? I'm sorry if I wasted your time for nothing. I really thought it was a viable solution, but then again, I'm nothing more than an amateur, a cocksucker, like Phillip used to call me.” Rowan blankly stared ahead, voice broken, eyes brimming with tears.

“No, my thoughts wandered for a second and...I'm sorry, I should have paid attention to what you said. My behaviour is inexcusable and totally unprofessional.” Alasdair's heart broke at the sight the teen offered, slumped into the chair as he was trying to shrink, to become invisible. “I think you are a brilliant medical researcher with a very promising career ahead, and I'll talk to my uncle Rayne about you.”

“Doctor Rayne Stark? The director of the Van der Meerwe Institute? No, please, you shouldn't bother him with...” Rowan started, only to be cut short by Alasdair.

“We should start the trial tests as soon as possible; otherwise, the number of those exposed to the substance that bastard created could become very high and hard, if not impossible to keep under control. As I said earlier, you have my total support.” The redhead's encouraging words brought the smile back on the teenager's face.

“Thank you for taking from your precious time to listen to us. Rowan is tired. He has worked hard and slept very little over the past couple of weeks, so we will head home soon. Before that, I would like to talk to Mister MacNamara for a few more minutes if it's not too much of an inconvenience.” Fabian's voice was pleading, but it had a tinge of urgency Ardan detected almost instantly.

“Sure. My beloved husband will take Rowan back to the lounge, so he and Riley can engage in another interesting conversation on...molecular biology.” Ardan wrapped the kid in a paternal look, gently smiling at him.

“It's about your father. He is after an innocent, broken man.” Fabian started to talk as soon as Alasdair and Rowan left the room, closing the door behind them. “Please, tell him to get Connolly off of Fergus Trevellyan's back. He is not who they think he is. That's all I can tell you, for now. The only difference between the two of you is that you could free yourself from the hell where you've been held captive. I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more, but...”

“I'll speak to my father and tell him he's after the wrong guy. I hope you are protecting this Trevellyan fellow for the right reasons, just as you did back then to Riley and now to Rowan. If I ever find out you lied to me...”

“You can come after me. No one will stop you. However, it won't be the case, trust me.” Fabian's voice sounded genuinely sincere, and, for some strange reason, Ardan believed him.

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