Page 82 of Devilish

I swallowed, convinced now more than ever that I was handing this information over to the right person. Lucien would know what to do with it. He would use it for the greater good.

He squeezed my fingers and said softly, “Will you tell me?”

I nodded and turned to face him. Then proceeded to tell himallof my secrets.

30

LUCIEN

THE NEXT DAY I headed to Libertine, wanting to get the information Kai had given me in hands that knew just what to do with it.

After making my way through the main entrance, I headed down the long hallway and held up my wrist to the scanner on the wall. Each of us—the owners of Libertine, my brothers—had a microchip implanted beneath our skin, and it was the only way to get into the underground of the building.

Through the wrought-iron door I went, past the torches lining the stone walls, to a place only the seven of us ventured to regularly.

Though Libertine served its members’ every need and desire on one of the many levels above, down here was where we made the plans that affected the world at large. King had been the one to bring us all together years ago, and each of us were men of different backgrounds, specialties, and influence. We used that power for the greater good, even if that meant having to do bad things to shit people—and that was exactly what had brought me there.

I scanned the cavernous space and all the “offices” off the main room. We each had one, though none of them had doors, just wide, curved openings carved into the stone.

I headed into Alessio’s office, and he took one look at me and spun away in his chair.

“Not talking to you.”

I grabbed a chair from the main room and parked it beside his. “Good to see you don’t hold a grudge.”

“Course not. The next time your ass wants me somewhere, I’ve already made other plans.”

It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. “Kai enjoyed meeting with Father Vitale yesterday. It helped him a lot.”

Alessio huffed, but moved his chair to face his wall of computers and gave me a side-eye. “You know, even Lachlan knows to bring an apology gift when he’s an ass.”

“You’re right. What do I owe you? Whiskey?”

“A bottle of the Yamazaki single malt, aged at least fifty-five years, will do.”

I let out a low whistle. “That’s a half-a-million-dollar bottle right there. Is that the going rate for getting all up in your feels?”

“The last bottle sold at auction just short of eight hundred, actually.”

“I’m not buying you an eight-hundred-thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey, fucker. How about I give you a mission instead?”

Alessio turned to face me and kicked his boots up on the edge of his desk. With his long brown hair and preferred uniform of jeans and a plain tee that hugged his oversized muscles, he didn’t look like what I’d expected a meticulous tech genius to be. We got a mouthy smartass instead, but none of us would have it any other way.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“The asshole who blew up my club. I want him to pay.”

“Finally. Been waiting for you to give me the go-ahead, and Lachlan’s about to fly off his leash.”

“Try to keep him on it for now. We don’t need to add to the body count.” I paused. “Yet.”

“Noted.” He crossed his arms and settled back in the chair. “So whatcha thinkin’?”

What was I thinking? That I wanted nothing more than to get my hands on Rupert and fuck his shit up. “The club was one thing. But Kai…” I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe, thinking of what Kai had gone through, the isolation, the mental games, the emotional turmoil. Being traded like a belonging and not treated like the unbelievable man he was? It weighed heavily on my mind, and now with the secrets he had given me, I could hit Rupert where it hurt.

Reputation. Money. Power. I wanted it gone.

When I opened my eyes again, I said, “Rupert owns the Manhattan Contemporary Gallery, but it looks like he’s not exactly aboveboard with the business.”

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