Page 73 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two
In the elevator, Andrew turns to Wren. “Look, I’m glad you got out alive, but who the hell are these guys? And why does one of them look like me? Are they who Ludo was talking about before I left with him? When he said Jordan was a dead man walking? It’s because of them?”
“Yeah.” Wren’s eyes stay trained on me as she works with the information she has. “Ell…”
The elevator dings, and the doors open. I usher them through the hallway and into the penthouse as quickly as I can.
“How did you know my father’s name?” Andrew asks, but I ignore him, pulling up Finn’s number in my phone.
“Does Rhett have aunts? Or uncles?” Wren asks weakly, like she already knows the answer is no.
Finn picks up quickly. “What do you need?”
“I need some security footage deleted, mostly from the last hour.” I explain the situation, detailing where Andrew was sitting at the bar. “Follow us all the way up to the penthouse. Hell, make it look like we were never at the restaurant in the first place.”
“You got it.” The line goes dead.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I turn back to Andrew. He’s sweating, his eyes darting all over the penthouse like he’s looking for a place to escape or hide. The lighting in the restaurant was dim, but looking at him now, I can’t help but grimace. The kid is covered in cuts and bruises.
“Are you working for Ludo?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Are you—” Andrew gulps. “Are you going to tell him about this? Please, I was just bored. All I was gonna do was have one drink, and then I was gonna go back. I promise.”
“Go back?” Wren prods.
“To my—to my hotel room. I’m not supposed to leave without supervision. Oh fuck, I’m begging you. Please don’t tell him. I need his help, I can’t mess this up.”
Before answering, I give myself a split second to think things over. It seems that Andrew thinks we have more knowledge and association with Ludo than we actually do. I’m not sure I want to tear down that façade yet. “We’ll talk about that later,” I say slowly. “For now, we have some other questions for you.”
Andrew nods anxiously.
The door to the penthouse opens, and Rhett and Oliver file in. Rhett’s expression is still shuttered, and Oliver gives me a worried glance.
“Can someone explain what’s going on?” Wren asks.
“I’d like that, too,” Oliver says as he eyes Andrew suspiciously. “Princess, how do you know him? Or did you just recognize him because…” He waves a hand between Andrew and Rhett.
“This is Andrew,” I say, gesturing to him. “Richard Brooks’ second son. That we know of, I suppose. Andrew, meet your older brother.” I point to Rhett.
Considering the shitshow that the past couple days have been, my expectation is for Rhett to yell. To get angry, to storm off, to take it out on anyone. He’s gotten much better at managing his anger, but not in a situation like this.
I suppose that’s why we’re all taken aback when Rhett does the exact opposite. Pity, or maybe sympathy, ripples across his face before he says softly, “I’m so sorry.”
For a second, Andrew just stares at his older brother. Then he scoffs.“Sorry?That’s it? You’re fuckingsorry?”
Rhett’s brows pull together. “What—”
“You left me with that bastard, and all you have to say for yourself issorry?”Andrew yells.
“What, no, I—”
“How could you do that?” Andrew advances toward him. “How could you do fuckingnothing?”
At the last second, Wren slips in between the two of them. “Stop!” She shoves Andrew back before he’s close enough to Rhett to do any damage. “Stop, it’s not what you think.”
Rhett tries to push her out of the way without being too forceful. “Sweetheart, don’t—”
Wren bats Rhett’s hand away, keeping her focus on Andrew. “Rhett is twenty-eight.”
