Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (36 page)

Yes, he was. But she couldn’t think about that now.

“A friend,” she finished. Because that’s what she’d promised him. “I don’t want him to do anything he’ll regret later.”

Eva tilted her head, a frown creasing her pale forehead. “You’ve invested a great deal of money in your stepfather’s hotel chain. And it looks like he’s running his company into the ground on purpose. You’re going to lose everything. Aren’t you … I dunno, pissed about it? Don’t you think he should pay?”

The cold had deepened, her breath puffing in a cloud of frosty air as she exhaled. Honor pulled her coat more firmly around her. “Yes. If it’s true.”

“It’s true all right. Gabriel must have shown you the financials.”

“He has but…” There was one other thing she didn’t know. And it didn’t look like these two knew either.

Gabriel had told no one but her.

“Might I suggest we go back to the car?” Zac interrupted smoothly. “It’s a little chilly to be discussing this here.”

Honor shifted on her feet, glancing back at the entrance to the casino. The group clustered around the front of it were still shifting around, talking and smoking. Beer cans littering the ground.

“Fuck,” Eva muttered. “You
do
care about him.” The other woman said it like it came as a shock.

No, it was more than care. Far more.

Honor turned her back on the casino. “I’ll come back to the car. But we’re not leaving here until he comes out of that place. Understand?”

*   *   *

Gabriel followed the security guard off the gambling floor and out into a small, dimly lit narrow corridor. At one end was a door. The guard knocked once and it opened, leading out into an opulent office. More red velvet on the walls, more dark carpet, an expensive Persian rug on the floor, an antique desk that must have cost hundreds of thousands. A man sat behind the desk. A man Gabriel didn’t recognize.

“Mr. Woolf, sir,” the security guard said.

“Wait outside,” Gabriel ordered before the man behind the desk could speak. May as well show his hand now so everyone in this room knew exactly where they stood.

The guard turned his head sharply to the guy seated behind the desk, who scowled. “Who the hell do you think you—”

“I have a full chapter of the Angels club sitting in the streets outside this casino,” Gabriel interrupted him coldly. “Waiting for a signal from me to come in here and start causing trouble. All you have to do is give me reason and I’ll call down hell.” He gave the man a smile that had nothing to do with amusement. “I’m sure your boss won’t be too happy with that.”

The man’s gaze flickered. “
I
am the boss, you insolent bastard.”

“No, you’re not. I know a fucking flunky when I see one.” He turned to the guard who was still standing there, his hand already reaching for his weapon. “Relax. I’m not going to kill anyone. I just want some information. So how about you wait outside.” He paused. “Unless you want to be responsible for the destruction of this casino?”

The guard hesitated for only a minute before he turned and left the room.

The man behind the desk had risen to his feet. He was outwardly impassive but Gabriel had learned to spot fear years ago and he could see it in this guy’s face. Excellent. Time to use it.

Slowly, he stalked over to the desk, put his hands on the edge, and leaned forward. “I own this neighborhood, motherfucker. It’s mine. And this fucking place has been a thorn in my side for years. I can have it destroyed very easily. Would you like me to do that?”

The man had gone pale. “You can’t do shit,” he said, still obviously trying for bluster.

“You do know who I am, don’t you?”

“You’ll be no one soon. I can get security to—”

“You’re assuming I’m alone. I’m not. Neither am I bluffing. Also, I don’t think your superiors will be happy if a well-known construction magnate ends up dead in an underground fucking casino notorious for drugs and prostitution.”

The man paled even further. “I’ve got nothing to tell you.”

“But you don’t know what I want yet.” He leaned forward. “Tell me everything you know about Guy Tremain.”

There was incomprehension on the man’s face. “Who?”

Gabriel pushed himself away from the desk and stalked around the outside of it. “What about Daniel St. James?”

The man began backing away. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

The guy was obviously even less than a flunky if he ran at the first sign of trouble. What the fuck were the bosses thinking of to employ an idiot like this?

Gabriel reached forward and grabbed the man’s collar, hauling him close. “Why is Guy Tremain laundering money for this casino? Who’s paying him? Who’s paying you?”

The man finally found his balls from somewhere, taking a swing at him, while struggling out of Gabriel’s hold. The blow was wild and Gabriel ducked it easily enough, but the man managed to slip from his grip, escaping around the desk and out through the door.

Fuck. He only had moments before security would be on him. Not that he cared since they couldn’t touch him. Not with the Angels waiting. The club’s current president was more than happy to come and help out a fellow club member. Especially him.

Gabriel pulled out a couple of drawers of the desk, riffling through the papers and files, not that he expected to find anything. Most of the really incriminating stuff wouldn’t be held here. And sure enough, it wasn’t.

Double fuck.

The door burst open, the casino security pouring through it, weapons at the ready.

Gabriel straightened and folded his arms. They were no threat. He was too big a deal for them to rough up, especially in this neighborhood. No doubt they wanted to do more than rough him up, but they wouldn’t get that either.

The flunky had come back, stepping into the office. “You need to leave.”

Fuck that. He hadn’t gotten what he was looking for yet.

“Don’t do anything you’d regret…”

From out of nowhere Honor’s voice suddenly resounded in his head. Irritated, he tried to ignore it. Because he wouldn’t regret dealing out a bit of violence to this shithead, that was for sure. He was part of the machine that had done something to Alex, that had been the cause of more grief in this neighborhood than even the drugs had.

He’d tried to get rid of the casino when he’d been the Angels’ president. But he had realized it was impossible. The casino’s money was embedded too deeply into the lives of the people here and its withdrawal would have destroyed the neighborhood’s economy.

So he’d left it alone. Yeah, leaving it was already a decision he was regretting. It would be better all around if he called down the Angels and destroyed the place.

A warm hand on his chest, smoothing. “I care about you.”

He shouldn’t listen to that voice. He shouldn’t feel that warmth seeping through him. He shouldn’t want it …

Her arms around him. Not saying anything this time, just holding him. No one had ever held him like that …

Gabriel shoved himself away from the desk, moving before he’d even fully processed it. The guns followed him but he ignored them as he paused by the door, staring at the flunky. “Tell your bosses I want this place shut down. By next week.” Hopefully that would leave them exposed and with any luck he could take them down, too.

“But you can’t—”

He met the man’s gaze, let him see the darkness. “You have no idea what I can and can’t do. Are you really willing to find out?”

The man said nothing, his gaze dropping. But Gabriel knew his message had been received, loud and clear.

He went out into the corridor to find a side door being held open by one of the security staff. Clearly they wanted him gone as quickly as possible.

The door led to an alleyway outside and he stepped into the dimly lit street. Neon reflected off the wet pavement, the thump of music in the distance. Behind him the door slammed shut.

A low, black car waited by the curb.

Gabriel paused, all his senses going on high alert.

The car door opened and a man got out. “Fitz?” the man said, his accent upper-class and familiar. “Is that you?”

Tremain.

Gabriel stilled as Tremain came around the car, coming closer to where he stood. The streetlight behind him would hide his features, at least that far away. But who the fuck was Fitz?

“Why won’t you answer my messages?” Guy was saying as he came closer. “I’ve been trying to get in touch—” He stopped dead. “Woolf.”

A rush of adrenaline flooded through Gabriel’s veins like a drug. Here he was, at last.

His rapist father.

He hadn’t meant to confront him now. Not yet. But what the hell? Fate moved in mysterious ways sometimes.

“Tremain. Fancy seeing you here.” He walked slowly forward to where the other man stood, staring into the guy’s blue eyes, searching his face. He’d done that over the past few weeks, searching for some likeness in the press pictures he’d seen. He had Tremain’s blond hair, that was a start. Though he was taller. But then again, children were always taller than their parents, weren’t they?

The other man blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to play a bit of roulette. What about you? Poker? Blackjack maybe?”

Tremain’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit you don’t.” Gabriel met the other man’s gaze. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The casino in this building right next to me. The one you’ve been laundering money for. The one your friend St. James owned, running up debts so big he took his own life. That you then paid off to hide from the authorities. And married his widow to make sure it stayed secret.”

Tremain said nothing, standing quite still. There was no expression at all on his bland, handsome face. But there was fear in his eyes. Oh yes, there was fear.

“Tell me,” Gabriel continued on, conversationally. “Did you decide to destroy your own company or was it on orders from someone else? And don’t try to deny it this time.” He paused, to give the guy a chance to sweat. “I have proof.”

“You can’t have proof,” Tremain said, his voice hoarse. “There’s no record—”

“Oh, there are plenty of records if you know where to find them. And luckily enough I do. Though not so lucky for you. Not so very fucking lucky at all.”

A silence fell, heavy and thick with tension.

“I always knew you were scum,” Tremain said, low and harsh. “I warned Honor. I told her she shouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Bit late for that now. Since she’s been sleeping with me.”

Something flashed over the other man’s face and savage satisfaction turned over inside Gabriel’s gut. Fuck, yes. Let him find that painful. Let him hurt.

“You bastard. If you do anything to her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Seems a bit rich to call me names when you’re the one making it big in white-collar crime.”

The other man shoved his hands into the pockets of the outrageously expensive designer overcoat he wore. “What do you want?”

Excellent. No protests, no denials. At least the man knew when he was beaten.

“Ah, but that’s the problem,” Gabriel said casually. “I don’t want anything. Or no, that’s not exactly true. What I want is to see you go down. Preferably blazing, but shit, I’ll take anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that I have enough proof to see you in jail for years to come.”

Tremain’s blue eyes didn’t flinch from his. “I have friends, Woolf. Powerful friends. There’s no jury on earth that would convict me.”

“Maybe not. But I think your friends aren’t quite as powerful as the media can be. A couple of leaked files is all it’ll take. And not just here in the States. I can have them on servers all over the fucking world.”

A muscle ticked in the other man’s jaw. “I have money. You don’t have to—”

“I don’t want your money.” Slowly, Gabriel came forward, getting closer. Until he could look into Tremain’s eyes. His father’s eyes. “Like I said. All I want is to see you go down, you raping prick.” He smiled. “Or should I say, Dad?”

*   *   *

It was the car she recognized first. Guy’s BMW. And then the two figures standing in the alleyway. Both blond. Both tall.

Zac’s car, a featureless, black, four-wheel drive was parked opposite, and gave Honor a clear view of the alley itself. And whatever was about to go down in it.

“God,” she whispered, reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, where are you going?” Eva called.

But Honor ignored her, slipping from the car and dashing across the street. She couldn’t allow whatever was going to happen, not when the lives of two men she cared about were at stake.

As she approached, she saw Gabriel take a sudden step back into the glow of the streetlight, the light striking gold from his hair. But the expression on his face was one of fury.

“No,” she heard him say. “That’s a fucking lie!”

Guy was standing with his back to her. “I’m not lying,” he said forcefully. “You can take a paternity test if you want. Here,” he stuck out his hand. “Take some blood. Some skin. Some hair. Whatever you like. Get it tested. The rest of what I did, yes, it’s true, but I’m not your father. I never hurt your mother.”

She could see the shock on Gabriel’s face. See the pain and the incandescent rage.

“Gabriel, stop!” she yelled as he took his hands out of his pockets, his fingers curled into fists.

Instantly, both men froze. Then Guy whirled around, meeting Honor’s gaze, his eyes widening in shock. “Honor. What the hell are you doing here?”

Her heart was racing, the words he’d just said echoing in her ears.

“I’m not your father…”

She took a breath. “I’m here with him.”

Guy flashed Gabriel look. “You brought her here? To the casino?” There was rage in his voice. “How could you—”

“I asked to come.” Honor cut him off. “I know, Guy. I know everything. You paying Daniel’s debts. You purposefully destroying Tremain Hotels. You laundering money…”

“Get back in the car, Honor,” Gabriel said in the coldest voice she’d ever heard him use.

“No.”

“I said, get back in the fucking car!”