Page 17 of The Devil's Torment

Maybe she’s not as averse to this union as I thought.

The idea that she might throw herself enthusiastically into marriage with me is a comforting one. It’d make my life easier, that’s for sure. The sooner she capitulates, the better for me. All I ever wanted was a peaceful home life. A wife who constantly gives me grief isn’t on my bingo card.

I trudge across the living room Xan and I share. “At least Noir is close enough for me to bail early.”

“No bailing!” Xan yells as I slam the living room door.

This happy-happy he’s discovered since he fell in love with his wife is getting on my fucking nerves. I’m self-aware enough to recognize a shred of jealousy at the heart of my irritation. Before Xan got married, he and I were the closest of all my siblings. We used to spend a lot of time together, but recently, he’d rather be with Imogen than me. Childish as it is for a thirty-three-year-old man to be jealous of his older brother wanting to be with the woman he loves, it makes it no less true. I miss spending time with him.

And here he is, offering to do just that, and I’ve done nothing but bellyache since he suggested it. I know why I’m being a grumpy bastard. I still haven’t made headway into who planted the bomb in Elizabeth’s taxi. The sketch the artist came up with based on the witness statement hasn’t produced a single lead. No one seems to know the guy, no matter how far and wide I’ve distributed the drawing.

I’m beginning to think Dad had a point when he said some mysteries might forever remain unsolved. This must be what Xan lives with every day. My older sister, and Xan’s twin, was murdered almost twenty years ago after they were both kidnapped, and while the culprits were found and punished (by Xan, not the law), my elder brother has lived with this unshakable belief that there was a bigger player responsible. Despite a detailed investigation by my father and his brother, my Uncle George, no one else was ever found to have been involved. Dad believes the ones responsible were caught and killed. Xan has a different view.

How has he coped with this gnawing frustration for all these years? It’s only been a few weeks for me, and the lack of progress is making my insides rot. Usually, I find it easy to maintain control, even when impatience gnaws at me. I tend to channel that impatience into action rather than let it drive rash decisions or emotional outbursts.

These days, though, I’m constantly on edge, an excess of negative energy not waning even after a hard session in the gym. Ihaveto find out who did it, both for my own peace of mind and to protect this family’s position in The Consortium. It means nothing that our ancestors founded the organization. If we look weak, then eventually someone else could move in and take our place.

I change into jeans and a black shirt, even though Noir has a dress code. As co-owner, no one will tackle my choice of attire. Not if they want to escape with their jaw intact, and what with the ever-present frustration boiling beneath the surface of my skin, I’m only too happy to release a slice of it by punching some idiot in the face. Maybe that’s the reasonwhyI’m not going suited and booted. Iwantsomeone to pick a fight with me.

Yep, my control is slipping one frayed thread at a time.

By the time I get downstairs, my three brothers are waiting for me. Saskia isn’t with them. I figure she’s either already left or is upstairs, getting dressed.

I force a smile and clap Xan on the back. “You’d better make this worth my while.”

“Change of plans,” he says. “We’re going to De Luxe instead.”

Now you’re talking.De Luxe is our casino chain and will make for a far more interesting evening than hanging out at Noir drinking. I’m not in the mood for alcohol. Poker, on the other hand…

“That’s put a smile on his face,” Tobias says.

“Nah,” Christian interjects. “I think that’s wind.”

“Fuck off.” I punch his arm, and I’m not gentle about it.

“Jesus. Ow.” He rubs it, glaring at me. “Want to walk down the aisle with a broken nose?”

“Do you want to stand beside me as best man with your arm in a sling?”

It takes him a second to catch on. When I was planning to marry Elizabeth, Xan had been the obvious choice, especially as I’d been his when he married Imogen. It was his suggestion to ask Christian. Then I could be Tobias’s, and Xan would be Christian’s. It kind of worked. We all took a turn.

“You mean it?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

He hits me with a brilliant smile and thrusts out his hand. “Then, fuck, yeah. I accept.”

I take it, shaking once, then letting him go. “Good. Now, can we get going? The sooner this fucking night is over, the better.”

“Such enthusiasm.” Christian slings an arm around my shoulder. “It’s a stag party, not a trip to the gallows.”

“The latter is looking more attractive by the second.”

We pile into one of our larger SUVs. Xan’s bodyguard rides upfront along with his driver. Sol is in the car behind us with my personal bodyguard, Barron. Being rich brings its challenges, and our family has suffered enough loss that we take our security seriously. Wealthy people will always be a target, and there’s little point in playing fast and loose with our safety. Our drivers and bodyguards are all trained in weapons and combat, as are we, and although it’s unlikely any issues will arise at De Luxe, it’s in all of our DNA to take precautions.

It doesn’t take long to reach the casino closest to Oakleigh. The manager makes a private room instantly available, and we invite a few regulars to join us. Although my family own De Luxe, we gamble just like anyone else. If we lose, those losses are covered by us personally, and if we win, we pocket the gains. It’s the only way it’s fun.

Time gets away from me as I throw myself into playing poker. Unlike most forms of gambling, poker isn’t a game of chance. It’s all about strategy, about reading your opponents and anticipating their next move. It’s an intellectual challenge, which is precisely why I love it.

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