Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“Anything you need from me before we go?” Jardin asked. “I’ve got to get the boys to bed. And I think Thea needs some time in the hot tub.”
“No. I don’t think there is. Things are . . . quiet.”
Quiet didn’t mean good though. And from Victor’s scowl, he thought the same.
“Santiago’s nephew is keeping quiet?” Maxim asked.
He looked between Jardin and Maxim. He kept them out of the business as much as he could. Jardin was a shark of a lawyer and a partner in his firm, while Maxim ran most of their nightclubs—the clubs that were on the up-and-up.
He couldn’t keep Victor out. Their father had raised Victor to be Regent’s protector and he took that job seriously.
“Yeah, although I’ve got a meeting with him Friday night. He wants to meet at his strip club. Apparently, some of his girls got ill from a bad batch of mixology and he wants to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”
“You had nothing to do with that, though,” Jardin said.
“No, but I think it’s some sort of excuse to meet with me.”
“So you’re going to meet with him? Why not send Basilien or Luka?” Maxim asked.
His father would never have taken a meeting with someone like Santé Santiago. Would have considered it beneath him.
But Regent had found that it paid never to dismiss anyone.
He also had another reason for wanting to go to the club.
“I want to see what he says.”
“You don’t think Patrick is still involved with that dancer, do you?” Jardin asked.
“You’re too smart for your own good,” he said, sitting back in his chair.
Fuck. He felt like an old man.
Was this what nearly being forty got him? He felt . . . exhausted.
Alone.
It’s better like this.
Or that’s what he told himself.
“Nah, I’m too smart for your own good,” Jardin replied. “So, does she still work there?”
“She does.”
“You’ve agreed to go to the club so you can see her, haven’t you?” Maxim asked.
“Perhaps.” That was as much as he was going to go into it.
Patrick McMahon was an old enemy. He’d once been someone in power in New Orleans. But he’d become a greedy asshole who’d wanted more, which is why he’d tried to have Regent killed.
But that hadn’t worked out well for him since Regent had gone on the warpath and destroyed everything he owned.
Patrick had run. He was good at hiding. But he couldn’t stay hidden forever.
Regent was going to find him eventually.
Patrick been seen a while back at Sexy Sins, the club now run by Santé Santiago. Not only had Patrick become obsessed with one of the dancers there, but Santé’s uncle, Carlos, had been working with him.
Which is why Regent liked keeping an eye on the place.
Victor shuddered. “I hate going to the strip club.”
So did Regent. “I can take Basilien and Jose instead.”
Victor narrowed his gaze. “No, you won’t.”
He knew that would be Victor’s reply.
“Our guy on the inside said that so far, Santé is a better man than his uncle ever was,” Regent told him. “The girls are a lot happier than they were before Carlos was . . . disposed of.”
Victor grunted. He didn’t sound convinced. Regent wasn’t entirely convinced either. He’d met Santé once several months ago, soon after he’d taken over from his uncle.
On the surface, he’d said and done the right things.
But that didn’t mean he trusted him.
There was a knock on the door and Maxim got up to open it.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but the boys are ready to go. They’ve eaten all the cookies in the kitchen and they’re climbing off the walls. Pretty sure Gerald is about to take off after them with a frying pan.” Carrick grinned at the thought.
“Coming.” Jardin wrapped his arm around the other man. “Let me know if you need anything, Regent. Or find out anything.”
About Patrick, he meant.
He nodded. It would be easier to sit back and wait for something to happen. But that way would lead to disaster.
Regent knew that sometimes it paid to take care of things yourself.
Regent sat behind his desk the next night. The house was quiet. Victor and Gracen were out on a date night.
Regent never thought he’d see Victor go on a date night.
Soon they’d be gone and it would be just him and Gerald.
He shook his head at his thoughts. It was for the best. The quiet would allow him to focus.
His phone rang and he peered down at the name displayed. A spike of worry filled him.
Why would Anne be calling him? He hadn’t talked to her since . . . well, since she’d taken off traveling with her new boyfriend in their RV.
Had something happened to Jilly? Anne had informed him that Jilly would be moving into the house while Anne was away. Regent wasn’t sure when they’d be back—if ever.
This new guy was definitely an improvement on her husband, Orlando Crane. He’d been Regent’s father’s right-hand man and a complete and utter bastard.