Page 9 of The Villain
“Of course.”
“Boss,” Enzo says, opening the back door to my SUV.
“Thanks, Enzo.” I climb in, then turn to face him. “Go to the house, will you? I can handle this. I don’t want anyone mishandling her.”
He raises his eyebrows, chuckles. “Sure thing.” He closes the door.
“Blackstone’s,” I tell the driver. Blackstone’s is the club where I’ll be meeting my stepbrothers, Jethro and Severin Blackstone, and Sybil, my stepmother. My father was supposed to attend, which was the only reason I agreed to dinner, but when I was informed at the last minute that he didn’t feel well enough, I didn’t see the point.
I take my phone out of my pocket and settle into the seat to check my messages. Three snarky texts from Sybil, a gif of someone smashing his head repeatedly against a wall from Jet, and radio silence from Severin. I can just imagine his sour face as he sits there nursing the single whiskey he’ll drink all night long.
A message from Vivi comes in before I put the phone away. I click on it. It’s a picture of Gage, my nephew, in his Halloween costume. Spiderman, muscles built in. I smile.
Vivi is my almost sister-in-law. She’d have married my brother, Seth, if things hadn’t gone south like they did. I’m the only member of our family that she will have anything to do with now.
Me: He’s spending too much time at the gym to get those muscles
Vivi: He went to sleep in it.
She sends a follow up text with Gage in his bed, hand clutching the handle of a plastic pumpkin which is loaded with candy.
Me: Pick out the Snickers for me.
Vivi: You get the coconut ones. They’re gross. Happy Halloween.
She goes offline and I tuck the phone into my pocket as we approach Blackstone’s.
“I don’t plan on staying long, so stick around,” I tell the driver. I’m just going to run up and check in on my father. I want to get home. I’m anxious to see the Little Moth.
I walk toward the entrance of the Blackstone’s, the private club my stepfamily owns. Well, the club my father and I now own forty-nine percent of. The clientele are the elite of Devil’s Peak and it’s what brought my father to this town. It’s where he met my stepmother, Sybil, the Blackstone heiress. Or at least she was one before they lost all their money. Now she’s SybilBlackstone-Trevino and Severin and Jet manage Blackstone Holdings.
The club, which had been in her family for generations, was nearly bankrupt when she met Dad. In addition, during her brief time at the helm of Blackstone Holdings, Sybil had purchased several casinos in Atlantic City of which only one remains. By the time she met my father, the club and the casino the family was clinging on to were in desperate need of a lifeline. They were hemorrhaging money and given that Devil’s Peak is just a few hours north of New York City and a lot of wealthy, influential people, some even legitimate, have second homes here, saving the club made for a good investment for us. Although we do not have any holdings in the casino itself, we own the building that houses it and the hotel.
“Good evening, Mr. Trevino,” the doorman says.
“Mitch. How was your granddaughter’s field trip?” I ask.
“She loved it. Thanks again for fronting the money, Mr. Trevino. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it,” I tell him. Mitch is a good guy. He works hard for me. An ex-convict who struggled for years before I hired him as the doorman here, much to my stepmother’s dismay because he’s also an extra set of eyes for me. He’s supporting his twelve-year-old granddaughter on his own. I make sure she has the extras she needs to have a better shot at life than he or his family has had.
I walk inside, take off my coat and hand it to the girl at the coat check.
“Shall I take it to your office,sir?”
“No, keep it here. I won’t be staying long,” I tell her and head toward the elevator.
She clears her throat. “Um, Mr. Trevino?” she starts, and I turn to her. “Your family asked that you stop in to see them when you get here. They’re still in the dining room.”
I’m tempted to correct her. Remind her they’re not my family, but I don’t. “Fine.”
I paste a smile on my face and stroll toward the dining room which takes up most of the ground floor. It’s a large, beautifully appointed space with polished marble floors, mirrors along all the walls and enough chandeliers that you’d be able to see it from fucking space if they were lit to their full potential. The tables are set at enough distance from each other to offer privacy to the patrons. I spot the three of them in their usual place at the far end, the round table set before the bullet-proof floor-to-ceiling windows, dad’s doing, overlooking the pristine golf course.
Jet sees me first just before I reach the table. He’s leaning back in his seat looking bored and I’m glad to see empty dinner plates all around.
Severin and Sybil stop their conversation at my approach, Severin’s eyes narrowing as he picks up his nearly empty glass.
“Dinner was at eight,” Sybil chastises as if she wanted me here.
