PRODIGAL

A GAY FORCED PROXIMITY, OPPOSITES ATTRACT ROMANCE

THE COUNCIL

BOOK 1

AVRIL ASHTON

Copyright © 2024 by Avril Ashton

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Prodigal ©2024 Avril Ashton

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ABOUT PRODIGAL

One man intent on reclaiming his birthright. Another denied his own. The secrets between them should keep them apart, not bring them closer.

The first time someone tried to kill Gideon Winters, his mother took the bullet meant for him. He was thirteen. The second time they came for him, his father faked Gideon’s death and sent him into hiding. It’s been fifteen years and he’s finally out of the shadows, ready to claim his rightful seat on The Council, the secret group of seven with the ability to make or break corporations and countries.

The son of a powerful man who refuses to acknowledge him, André Tesfaye leads a quiet life of monotony that’s upended when he gets trapped in a random robbery. Whispered warnings abound about the man who saves him, but he’s too busy getting lost in Gideon’s ice-blue eyes to listen.

André is the weapon Gideon plans to use to exact revenge on the people who took so much from him. Wanting him, loving him, puts everything at risk, and tests Gideon’s loyalties and focus… Which is a shame, because a battle is on the horizon.

And Gideon has acquired a weakness.

Prodigal is the first book in The Council, a brand new series by bestselling m/m author Avril Ashton. It features forced proximity, opposites attract, interracial romance, and Av’s signature heat and angst.

1

A hand on his shoulder yanked Gideon from a restless sleep. His eyes popped open, mind and body already on alert. His best friend and head of his security detail, Samir Yassin, met his gaze in the semidarkness.

And Gideon knew.

He sat up, inhaling deeply. “It’s time?”

Samir nodded solemnly. “It’s time.”

A heaviness settled over his limbs, and for a moment he just stared at Samir, until his friend sat on the edge of the bed, settling a hand on Gideon’s knee. “You ready for what’s next?”

Samir should’ve known better than to ask that question. They’d been preparing for this moment and all the others to come for a very long time. Gideon was nothing if not ready. Still, his stomach tensed. He looked forward to what was to come. For what he stood to gain. But in order for that to happen, he was about to lose the most important person in his life.

His throat worked and he pressed his lips together. Maybe he wasn’t as ready for that part, though he’d been prepared for it. He’d known this day was coming—had been on alert for weeks.

“We have to go.” Samir squeezed his knee, then stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “The others and I will be outside when you’re ready.”

Once the door closed behind Samir, Gideon got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, quickly washing his face. This bathroom was smaller than the one in the last place he’d had. He’d stopped counting the number of times he’d moved since he’d first gone into hiding at thirteen. He’d returned to the city of his birth a year ago, back to where it all began.

He dressed by rote, made sure he had his weapons, then went in search of the others. His team was a small one; just four of them, people he’d handpicked. He trusted the instincts he’d honed over the years. Knew his guys were the best, knew they were loyal to the death. They were his family. Would always be, especially now.

Will spotted him first when he stepped out into the garage, and she winked at him as he approached. He tugged on her ponytail because he knew how much she hated that, and she playfully swatted his hand away, brown eyes flashing. Will—or Willoughby Caine, the name she hated—was just about as tall as Gideon’s six-foot-one height, with tawny beige skin, medium-length hair that was so brown it looked black, and the meanest right hook he’d ever been lucky to receive. Samir had been the one to recommend her, and after seeing her in action, Gideon had to have her on the team. Will was a bloodthirsty beast.

“Hey.” Kaleb Sandoval walked over and stood in Gideon’s way. He’d been the last one to join their group, brought on board around five years ago. The youngest, too, at twenty-eight. He used to be a mercenary, a gun for hire, until Gideon heard about him and sent Samir to offer him a spot. He was Columbian, bulky and shorter than the others at just five-ten, but a magician with explosives. His hair was cut to the scalp in a severe style, showing off his angular face, not-quite-brown eyes, and the jagged scar just near his right eye. “We got you.”

Gideon didn’t doubt it, not for a second, but he couldn’t make his throat work, so he simply nodded. Marco touched his shoulder just as Samir barked, “Let’s go.”

Then it was all business.

Marco Anders was their weapons expert. He didn’t look the way his name sounded though. He was a blond fucker, tall and skinny, with green eyes and tattoos covering more than half of his body.

They were all professionals, former marines, mercenaries. Killers. Gideon had surrounded himself with killers because the world he’d been born into, the one he’d been hiding from for the past twenty years—the same world he was about to step back into—was one inhabited only by the most ruthless, the most diabolical and bloodthirsty. He had the bullet holes, the scars all over his body and soul, to attest to that.

They rode out in two vehicles, Kaleb and Will in the first one, Gideon in the back seat of the second, with Marco driving and Samir riding shotgun.

Samir had been with Gideon since he turned twenty, and Samir twenty-five. Being so close in age, they’d become fast friends—and lovers for all of two seconds. They were better friends than lovers, they’d decided, so they nixed that and had been brothers ever since. Samir towered over Gideon at six-foot-six, with deep reddish-brown skin and a bald head. His frame was all solid muscle. The others liked to call him “machine” because he was that. Samir was a killer, incredibly adept at it, with no remorse or second-guessing, but he was an even better strategist. He used to be in the military until he went AWOL. There was a bounty on his head even now, but that would eventually be dealt with. It remained in place because they needed it to be.

They’d moved closer to the city—knowing just how dangerous it could be—on Gideon’s insistence. With all that was to come, he couldn’t stay away any longer. He’d wanted to be close, and now he was glad for it. It only took fifteen minutes to get to their destination, though it felt like an eternity. They’d prepped for this moment, so it was all choreographed—driving into the underground parking lot of the building next door, getting out, and walking to the elevator, flanked by his people. They rode the elevator to the basement level of the ten-story building, then got out and filed into a room once Samir checked to make sure it was empty. The room, barely large enough to fit all five of them comfortably, had a secret entrance hidden behind the false wall. That led them down a narrow echoing corridor and into the building next door.

Only one man waited for them when they made their exit, expression pinched when he met Gideon’s eyes briefly.

“This way.” He waved them forward and they entered the apartment fully. It was quiet. Too much so. Gideon swore he smelled death in the air. Samir stopped him from moving with a hand on his arm, reminding him that his safety was still number one. Gideon leaned against the wall, ankles crossed, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for Samir and Marco to scout the area.

Gideon had been waiting for such a long time that you’d think he would be used to it by now, but this one was different. This one…

Samir returned, his dark gaze meeting Gideon’s. “We’ll be out here when you need us.”

Because he would.

Gideon nodded and turned from them, heading into the room where the last of his heart waited. It was a large room, with all the frills and furnishings that showed off wealth and status. And on the large bed, directly in the middle of the space, his father lay.

Dying.

At thirteen, Gideon’s mother died in his arms. Now, he stood over his father’s bed, staring down at the old man laboring to breathe. His skin was gray, body shrunken, all his hair gone. The cancer had eaten away at him steadily. This was his third bout with it. He’d fought the first two times, refusing to leave Gideon before he was ready to do what needed to be done. So his old man fought. Now, he’d stopped fighting. Or maybe this round was just one he no longer had the strength to take on.

Either way, the last of Gideon’s family was in that bed, preparing to leave him, and though he’d known this day was coming, he wasn’t ready. He dropped to his knees beside the bed, taking his old man’s hand in his. All bones. He’d been vibrant, untouchable, deadly. His name brought fear, and yet here Aldo Winters was, fading away.

Gideon bowed his head, inhaling. At one time his father’s scent—cigars and spice—had been the only thing keeping Gideon grounded. Then he’d had to leave his home, leave his father, to hide from the people intent on killing Gideon in order to hurt Aldo. And he lost that familiarity, that security. He’d been thirteen, too young to be alone—left with strangers with whom his father had entrusted Gideon’s safety—to mourn the loss of his mother. The loss of his father too.

Aldo made a sound and turned his head, lashes fluttering and lifting. His gaze was unfocused, but in the depths of his once-gray eyes, Gideon saw a ticking clock. They had hours, probably.

“M-my son.”

“Don’t talk.” Gideon hushed him. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Aldo’s lips twitched a little. “Are you ready?’ The question was just breaths tumbling over each other, words barely discernible, but Gideon understood. He’d always understood his father.

“I am ready,” he told Aldo softly. “I know what has to be done.” He’d been waiting for a long time for what came next.

“I-I am p-proud of you. So proud.” Aldo’s chest rose and fell, breath wheezing out of him. His hand shook in Gideon’s clasp. “Your mother is too.”

Gideon shook his head. He couldn’t⁠—

“I’m going to be with Mama.” Aldo’s voice had zero inflection that time. “She’s been waiting a long time for me.”

The day after Gideon turned thirteen years old, gunmen ambushed their home. His father was gone, and Gideon was home alone with his mother. They came for him, for the son of the most powerful man the criminal underworld had ever seen. Gabriella Winters sent Gideon to hide and refused to hand over her son when ordered to do so, despite the masked men’s promise to leave her unharmed if she did. They gunned her down, and she lay in a pool of her own blood, choking on it, when Gideon found the courage to crawl out of the secret space she’d shoved him into.

He held her in his arms as she took her last breaths.

Until that moment, he’d had no clue just who and what his father was.

Six months later, masked men came for him again. His father had an army of bodyguards around Gideon then, but somehow their enemies managed to ambush them on Gideon’s way to school one morning. He ended up with a bullet in the arm and a graze to the temple, hiding under the much larger body of one of his bodyguards. Playing dead.

Aldo faked Gideon’s death that day and sent him away. He’d been gone ever since. But he was back now. Back to watch his father die. Back to take over the throne. Back to right the wrongs done to his family. There was a traitor in The Council, the underworld body that controlled all the power in the U.S. The group of seven had been started by Gideon’s many times removed great-grandfather. There would be no Council without the Winters and there would always be a Winters on The Council. For now, the other members of The Council were languishing under the illusion that Aldo’s death would mean an end to the Winters’ reign. They didn’t know Gideon was here, biding his time, ready to do anything to reclaim his birthright.

He stroked his father’s hand, kissing the knuckles, as Aldo kept talking, his already low voice threading in and out.

“Mama and I will be waiting for you.” His gaze, barely focused, landed on Gideon. “But you have work to do here first. Make them pay for what they took from us.” He coughed.

“Hush. Rest.” Gideon stroked his father’s chest. “Lie back.”

But Aldo shook his head. “You’re better than me,” he choked out. A lone tear stroked down his left cheek. “I made sure of it. And I made sure they can’t touch you.”

Wouldn’t stop them from trying, though.

There’d been lessons—so many of them—while Gideon had been in hiding. Weapons training. Combat training. Mental conditioning. Aldo had made it his mission to ensure Gideon would never be helpless again. Would always be untouchable, physically and mentally. His father had hired people who taught Gideon to be a machine. Capable of doing whatever was necessary to survive.

“Thank you,” Gideon whispered to him as Aldo’s lashes lowered. Thanking him for all he’d done, all he’d sacrificed. He loved his father and he knew how much his father loved him. “I love you, Papa.”

Aldo’s lashes fluttered but his eyes didn’t open, though his lips twitched in a sign of a smile. His fingers made circles in Gideon’s palm. Over and over and over. And Gideon held him, watched him, tears brimming in his eyes as he watched Aldo struggle to breathe.

Until he stopped.

His chest ceased moving.

His pulse disappeared.

Gideon still held on to him, screaming in his mind for his father the way he’d screamed out loud for his mother that day. She didn’t answer him then. Aldo didn’t answer him now.

His father was gone.

2

His father had made his funeral plans beforehand. All Gideon had to do was wait. And watch. Even though they’d known for a long time that Aldo was dying, it still didn’t seem real not having the old man around. They hadn’t gotten to see each other much over the years, what with Gideon being in hiding and Aldo having to maintain his secrets, but they always remained in contact somehow.

He’d said his goodbyes to his father already, in a private ceremony attended by only Gideon and his team. They were the only people who mattered. The only people whose loss and grief was real.

He stood now with a hand shoved into the pocket of his slacks as he held a pair of binoculars to his eyes with the other, staring down at the public graveside service. A crowd was gathered to send off Aldo Winters—a giant, a powerhouse, a lethal motherfucker when the need arose. As far as everyone else knew, there were no family members present. Gideon was all his father had left, but to everyone else, Gideon Winters had died many years ago.

From his position on the hillside, nobody would be able to tell Gideon’s identity were they to look up and glimpse a figure standing there. It wasn’t reveal time yet. No, that would come in two days, but he was antsy. Ready to get the ball rolling.

He couldn’t wait to see those motherfuckers’ faces. Wished again that his father could be around to see all the years of hiding, of planning, finally come to fruition.

Samir stood at his side, equally silent, ever watchful and alert while the rest of the team waited in the SUVs behind them.

The Council consisted of seven members to ensure there would always be a tiebreaker. A seat never ever sat empty. Membership was inherited and members remained on it until they died. But before being officially sworn in as a member—if they didn’t have a child or family member that was fit and suitable to inherit the seat—they had to put forward a name, their choice of who they wanted to take their seat should they die or be killed. Those names were called proxies, and they were vetted extensively before being allowed into the records, because what would prevent a proxy from simply killing off a member and taking over the seat?

So far that hadn’t happened, but attempts had been made.

Gideon’s mother had been Aldo’s proxy until Gideon was born. As Aldo’s only child, Gideon had been automatically entered as his father's proxy. And then the attempts on his life began. As blood relation to The Council founder, the Winters’s seat held the most power. It was tiebreaker, final decider. And holder of the purse strings. To take out Aldo and his son meant whoever possessed that seat would have unlimited power and control.

Upon the death of a Council Member, a new member was sworn in three days after the burial. At that point, all surviving members gathered in a secure location for that task.

Gideon would be showing up then.

He couldn’t fucking wait.

Through the binoculars, his gaze landed on each member of The Council as they stood at his father’s grave, paying their respects. The Council only ever met up, all of them in one place, for funerals and important votes, like inducting a new member.

Aldo had known all of that, of course, which was why, once he’d gotten the cancer diagnosis, he and Gideon had kicked their plans into high gear. His father’s death signaled Gideon’s resurrection. But he wished his father was there at his side so they could do it together. Aldo lost his wife, and to an extent his son, as well. The old man had tried his hardest to figure out who’d been behind the destruction of his family, but he’d gotten nowhere.

In a strategic move, Aldo’s seat remained vacant. He hadn’t offered up a new proxy when Gideon “died,” which was what he was supposed to do. Therefore Gideon remained the proxy of record. But before he made his reappearance, he wanted to see who The Council would attempt to hand over his rightful position to.

Gideon would devote the rest of his life to making them pay.

The group down below began dispersing once the service was over. A fine drizzle dampened Gideon’s hair and skin, and he lowered the binoculars, gazing up at the gray skies.

“I want each member followed,” he told Samir. “Discreetly.”

“Already on it.”

Members of The Council were the most powerful people in the States. They were a criminal organization, yes, but they were people in all levels of the judicial system, appointed and removed politicians, and had their talons all the way into the White House. It’d shocked Gideon the first time he’d witnessed his father issue an order to the actual President of the United States, his jaw dropping when he’d watched the actual follow-through on TV mere hours later. It’d been nothing to his father, and that kind of power was enviable, making people do anything to obtain it.

Gideon turned away, facing the vehicles. “Let’s go.”

On the ride back to their hidden compound, he tuned out as Samir issued orders and took reports. Gideon’s inner circle was only four deep. They were the only ones he trusted near him, to see him vulnerable, to know his thoughts. He’d learned at a very young age that people couldn’t be trusted, and after being in hiding for so long, the smaller his circle, the better. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have an army out there on the streets, working for him, with him, to ensure all the strategizing, all the preparation, was fruitful.

The men who worked for him didn’t know his identity, not yet. But they would, soon enough.

Back at his place, he strode into his office, his four shadows at his side as usual. Gideon sat behind his desk and met Samir’s steady gaze.

“Everything in place?”

Samir nodded. “Just like Aldo told us, each member only has two bodyguards with them.”

That was another part of the rules of The Council—it ensured all members were on the same playing field whenever they congregated. Some members didn’t like each other, and the rule was to prevent them from starting a fucking war. But that two-man shit worked perfectly for Gideon’s purposes. While they all sat around with two men each, he’d be strolling in with his small army.

“I sent you the reports you asked for.” Marco spoke up, nodding at the iPad sitting on the desk in front of Gideon.

He picked it up and opened it, quickly browsing the reports on each member of The Council. They had so much info on them already, much of it supplied by Aldo, but these reports from Marco were recent, from the past week.

Gideon hated surprises, so he preferred up-to-the-minute intel, which helped him remain in control. He scrolled, lifting an eyebrow when something interesting caught his attention. He held up the iPad, the screen toward Marco, and tapped it with a finger. “Are we sure about this?”

Marco grinned. “Of course.”

“Then tug on that rope, huh?” Gideon spoke to Will and Kaleb. “Let’s see what falls out.” Didn’t matter how much ammunition they had, they could always use more. And even with the reach and resources The Council had, they didn’t have his team, who were so fucking stealth with their shit it was insane. They were invaluable, and he knew they were ready and willing to die for him. They’d do anything for him, and he would do the same because they’d saved him when he was isolated and inundated with nightmares, battling PTSD, and unsure of who to trust.

They continued to save him. Just like Gideon, they’d been betrayed and cast aside, forgotten about, with no family except for who they chose. He wanted to ensure their sacrifices weren’t in vain.

Over dinner, they went over their next moves, choreographing how they wanted everything to play out. Gideon wasn’t under the illusion that it would all happen exactly how they laid it out over beers and burgers, but he wanted it to be as close and as clean as possible.

He didn’t doubt there would be casualties, but he didn’t mind that.

The Council shot first all those years ago; he’d just be returning fire.

Gideon sat in the back of the SUV parked a short distance away from The Council’s meeting spot, waiting for said meeting to commence. The Council didn’t have a set location whenever they met up, but they were creatures of habit. There were only a few places they could possibly use because of security concerns, so Gideon and his team had scouted all five until they’d found the one.

Then they’d prepared.

Now, the time had come. In a few minutes, Gideon would make his way into that meeting and set in motion a plan that’d been in the making for years. It was all coming together, and he salivated at the thought.

He and the others in the SUV watched the meeting on an iPad, thanks to the cameras and microphones they’d installed after The Council had done their own sweep. Before a meeting was held, security always swept the location to ensure it was free of cameras or listening devices. But Gideon had people on the inside who did what needed to be done.

He watched now as members of The Council filed into the room, each one taking their seat at a horseshoe-shaped raised dais.

Gideon fisted his hands as he stared at the screen. He knew every member of The Council by name and was privy to their darkest secrets. That was the thing—they all knew each other’s secrets. They just couldn’t use them. Gideon didn’t have that problem. He would stand before them with no weaknesses they could exploit, no secret to hold over him.

He was about to be a whole fucking nightmare for them.

“They’re all in place,” Samir murmured.

Gideon’s lips curled. And so they were. All Council members had taken their seats. Only the podium remained empty. “Our people?” he asked.

“Ready on your command.”

Gideon kept his gaze locked on the screen. The members didn’t take their bodyguards into the actual meetings. No, the bodyguards got to wait nearby in an overflow room, all of them armed and sitting around idle. “Show me the bodyguards," he told Samir, and with one tap of a button, the screen split into two, showing both the meeting and the waiting bodyguards. Some of the guards were talking to each other, others were silent, on alert, waiting. But they didn’t move from that room, because to do so would mean death.

Only the seven members of The Council were aware of what occurred in those meetings. For anyone else to try and listen in, it would mean a death sentence. So, like good soldiers, the bodyguards all sat around and waited until they were needed.

They couldn’t leave because the safety of their bosses was still tantamount.

All of that worked in Gideon’s favor. “Begin.”

Samir relayed his one-word order to the others out of sight. Sleeping gas would be pumped through the air vents, knocking out every single bodyguard. Gideon watched as it began to take effect. As bodies began dropping, one of them crawled toward the closed door on his belly, but he found that act useless. The door had been barricaded from the outside. He was the last one to go unconscious.

On the iPad screen, one of the members—Ennis Canto—was speaking. “And so, even as we mourn our fallen, I would like to introduce you to our newest member, Heath Lyndhurst.”

Gideon squeezed his eyes shut briefly, then opened them to meet Samir’s gaze.

“Marco’s team is doing their research now,” his friend told him.

Since they didn’t have a clue beforehand who the new member would be, they’d had no way to investigate. But they had a name now, and Marco’s team was the best at what they did.

In the meantime, Gideon opened the vehicle door and hopped out. “Let's go.”

With no one to stop them, and members of The Council otherwise occupied, they walked through the building. His fingers twitched as he stood in front of the massive closed doors. Everyone on the other side of it was in some way responsible for his mother’s death, for his exile, for his father’s broken heart. He could taste revenge on his tongue, so delicious it made him salivate, gave him goose bumps and shivers.

Beside him, Samir nudged his shoulders. “Ready?”

Gideon smirked. He’d been ready since the first time they’d come for him. “Ready.” He waited, biting down on his patience, as Samir shot at the doors, riddling them with bullets before kicking them in and stepping back.

Gideon entered the room first.

All the members were on their feet. But helpless, because Gideon’s men were already on them, having emerged from their hiding places in the back. Each member had a gun pointed to their head and they all stared down at him with sneers filled with contempt and the promise of retribution.

“Whoever you are, you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.” That was Ennis Canto speaking. Guess he’d appointed himself the official spokesperson.

At the podium, the new guy—Heath Lyndhurst—stood, shaking, but trying to hide it. Afraid but doing his best to mask it. Gideon strode over to him. He was older than Gideon, by the looks of it, but not by much. Tall and skinny, red hair and brown eyes. Freckles, too, Gideon saw when he was close enough to touch.

“You are trespassing,” Heath told him in a haughty tone, one reserved for men with more money than sense. Who thought they held power until rudely disabused of the notion. “You have no idea⁠—”

Gideon lifted his hand and with a flick of his wrist, he slit Heath’s throat. He didn’t bother moving out of the way of the arterial spray, so his suit got bloodied. Heath’s eyes went wide and he grabbed at his throat, making a gurgling sound as he collapsed onto his knees. Gideon nudged him onto his back with a kick to his shoulder.

Then he stood at the podium and gestured as he spoke into the mic. “Esteemed members of The Council, please take your seats.”

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Joseph Morrow. He used to golf with Gideon’s father. Ten-year-old Gideon remembered him being a nice man. Adult Gideon knew of his hunger for young flesh. He was way older now, inching closer to his grave every day.

“Who are you?” Prislaya Chopra. She’d taken her seat after Gideon had been exiled, but he knew her secrets. Knew of her sadistic streak and unquenchable blood lust. She didn’t flinch when the gun at her head dug into her scalp. “What do you hope to gain from this?”

“Clearly, you know who we are.” Ennis Canto. “You have to know you will not walk out of here alive.” He’d taken his place on The Council by proxy, the husband of Virginia Canto, who’d inherited from her father. She’d died giving birth to Ennis’s only daughter and heir.

“I know who you are, yes.” Flanked by Samir and Kaleb, with Marco and Will at his back, Gideon met the gaze of every one of those members. “But you also know me.” He smiled. “Or have heard of me.” Hands in his pockets, he ignored the body at his feet and rocked back on his heels. “When I was thirteen, you came for my life and took my mother’s instead. You didn’t relent, though. You kept coming until my father faked my death and sent me away. His death brought me back, and I have to say…” He grinned at the confusion on their faces. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

“What are you saying?” Chinh Dang, the only other woman on The Council. “What is your name?”

“My name is Gideon Winters. I have come to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

A riot of voices rang out.

“Impossible!”

“He’s dead!”

One of them shot to his feet, mouth hanging open, only to be shoved back into his seat by the man holding the gun to his head.

“I don’t believe it for a second.”

“Imposter!”

Gideon chuckled. “I would think there’d be more of a welcome for the prodigal’s return.”

3

André stared down at the phone in his hand. Resentment was a living thing inside him, eating him alive. Curling his fingers around the phone, he pressed his lips together and closed his eyes briefly to calm himself down.

The resentment hurt only him. The man who inspired that feeling—and all his negative feelings—would never witness it. He probably wouldn’t bat an eye even if he stood in front of André now…which would never happen.

Lashes lifting, he glared at the phone screen. It was that time of the month. Time when his bank alerted him that his account balance was another fifty thousand dollars richer. The money had started coming when he’d turned nineteen, two days after his mother died. A day after the first fifty thousand dollars showed up, he learned the identity of his father. Watching the man’s face on TV, reading about him on the internet, was the closest André would ever come to meeting his father. The man didn’t want him, and André had never felt that rejection, that abandonment, as acutely as the day his stupid, stupid ass decided to travel to where he’d read his father lived.

He’d been in search of a connection, someone to make the pain of losing his mother a bit more bearable. He hadn’t even made it farther than the airport in D.C. before someone bumped into him, yanked him into a dark corner, and told him to leave and never come back. That his father wanted nothing to do with him.

“Go the fuck home, boy. He wants nothing to do with you.”

He rubbed his chest. Those words would forever be stamped across his forehead.

“Dré! Dré, are you listening to me?”

He jerked his head up at the shout and shoved his phone into his pocket as he spun around to smile at Juliette. “I’m listening.”

She squinted at him, those older-than-her-years eyes of hers calling bullshit. She rolled closer in her wheelchair. “Are you done? Ready to go home?”

Every evening he took his sister out to the basketball courts in the park near their home so she could hoop. She loved playing shoot-around with him, something they’d started when their mother passed on; she would’ve never allowed it. Jules had lost permanent use of her legs after a serious illness as a toddler, before she’d entered their lives via adoption. Their mother died when Jules was seven, and she’d preferred to keep her daughter locked up in the house, wrapped in cotton wool and bubble wrap for good measure. But Jules was about to be fifteen, and André loved watching her eyes light up with every basket she made. He loved the way she glowed when the neighborhood kids would drift over to them and play with her, talking trash and treating her like any other person.

Because she was.

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear—the one with the three piercings, another thing that had occurred fairly recently. “I’m good if you’re good.” He eyed her up and down, then pulled a bottle of water from the pack he always carried with him. “You do look a bit tired.” He handed her the water and retrieved a towel to wipe her forehead. She snatched the towel away with a dirty look, wiping her face and then handing it back along with the water.

“I’m hungry. Can we have pizza?”

He refrained from rolling his eyes. She always did that. The pizza place was just at the corner and the best ever. He couldn’t say no, especially when she turned those big innocent eyes on him. “Yeah, we can have pizza, but you still have to do the dishes when we get home.”

She groaned, dropping her head back and frowning up at the sky that was getting darker by the minute.

He tugged on one of her braids with a chuckle. “Keep that up and I’m taking away your phone, then you can explain to what’s-her-face why you didn’t make your eight o’clock call.”

She gasped. “You can’t do that!”

She had a new girlfriend, this one lasting longer than the previous—or the boyfriend before that—but they were still in the talk on the phone until late into the night phase. He’d had to yell at her to hang up and go to bed more times than he could count. “I can and I will, so watch yourself.” He bent and kissed her forehead even though they were in public and she hated when he did that. When he lifted his head and stepped back, color was splashed on her cheeks and her eyes were shooting daggers at him. He grinned. “Let’s go, brat.”

He kept stride with her as they made their way over to the pizza shop. Once they’d gotten their food, they continued on home, which wasn’t too far away. His mother had owned the building, and after adopting Jules, she’d renovated it so it’d be perfect for Jules’s needs. Once inside, Jules grabbed a slice of pizza and held it in her mouth as she wheeled herself to her room.

André watched her go, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “Make sure you don’t forget the dishes!” His sister was something else, but it was thanks to her that he hadn’t lost his mind after everything that transpired since their mother’s sudden death. He piled two slices of the meat lover’s pizza onto his plate after washing his hands, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then made his way to his bedroom. Jules was on the opposite side of the house from him, but they had an intercom system if they needed each other.

In his room, the TV was tuned to a random serial crime drama that he ignored as he shoved pizza into his mouth with one hand while trying to undress with the other. There’d been a lot of rules to follow when his mother had been alive. Chief among them? No eating in the bedrooms. She was gone now, but sometimes he could still hear her scolding him for doing something he shouldn’t, back when he’d been rebellious and eager to test her limits.

When she died, he began understanding why there were so many things he couldn’t do. Why she’d kept him sheltered and isolated. He’d understood, too, how it was that she stayed home with him all day and never had a job, but they still managed to have a privileged life.

She’d been bought. Kept. By the man who wanted nothing to do with André—his own father. The man who bought and paid for André with fifty thousand dollars every month, the same way he'd bought and paid for André’s mother.

He could no longer taste the pizza, so he guzzled some water and then put the plate down on the nearby dresser before wiping his hands with the wet wipes he kept near his bed. When he was done, he reached into his drawer and pulled out the letter. It’d been among his mother’s things, five whole pages, written in her hand as she explained who she’d been, what she’d done, and the shit she was leaving behind for him to figure out.

The letter said a lot of things, but it didn’t tell him that the man who’d fathered him would reject him. It didn’t explain the anger André would feel standing over his mother’s casket. It didn’t give a hint that he’d wake up from nightmares of his father issuing orders for someone to ‘throw him in the trash’ while pointing a gun at André’s head.

She asked for forgiveness in that letter, for not telling him before. He’d been nineteen then; he was twenty-seven now, and it still hurt just as bad. He swore he’d forgiven her, but there were times…

Lying on his stomach on the bed, he smoothed out the letter. It was getting faded, some words smudged, and what looked like an oil stain dotted the bottom right of all five pages. He flipped to the last page. It was on that last page, the last line, where she told him his father’s name, then issued a warning.

“Your father’s name is Ennis Canto. Whatever you do, son, do not go looking for him. Do not draw his attention. You won’t like what you find.”

She’d been right.

Members of The Council surrounded Gideon in the not-big-enough overflow room beyond the main conference area. He tuned out the questions and demands they threw at him as if he answered to them and not the other way around. Instead, he watched them.

Studied them closely.

He didn’t know if they’d all been in on it. Or if it’d just been a few. It didn’t matter. They were all on his shit list and he would kill every single one of them. No, he still didn’t know who’d taken his mother from him and shot him, but he was getting closer.

Ennis Canto was the only one out of all of the members who wasn’t bombarding Gideon with questions. He sat back, doing the same thing Gideon was doing: studying, taking notes. He was the analytical type, Gideon knew. And he’d been the one to sponsor the new council member.

The now-dead council member.

Gideon held up a hand and the room quieted, though scowls creased their faces when they realized how easily they’d followed where he led. Fuckers. They hadn’t seen anything yet. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he smiled. “We have so much to discuss, but let me just put your minds at ease; I am who I say I am and I’m here to stay.”

“You haven’t shown us any proof as yet,” Ennis Canto said, tone mild, head cocked and expression just a little bit mocking. “As of right now, you’re an imposter and a child, playing in a sandbox you have no business in.”

He was nearing fifty, but Ennis was apparently one of the most eligible bachelors around. He was tall and well-built, with smooth brown skin, dark hair streaked with silver, and assessing brown eyes that locked on Gideon and stayed. The salt-and-pepper scruff on his jaw gave him an alluring appearance, something Gideon could objectively acknowledge. But Ennis was the cold type, more concerned with business than anything else.

Gideon got to his feet with a smirk. Samir stood at the door, and at Gideon’s nod, he stepped inside just far enough to press a button on the TV mounted to the wall. They’d already preloaded the video Gideon’s father had made for this very purpose.

As Gideon and the others looked on, Aldo laid out every detail of how he’d kept Gideon hidden away and all the things he’d done to ensure his son’s safety. Gideon watched him with a knot in his throat. In the video, Aldo sat at his desk in his office. Gideon had wanted him to make the video from his bed, but Aldo refused. He hadn’t wanted the others to see any kind of weakness in him. He came across just as strong as ever on the screen, commanding, powerful. But Gideon had been off to the side during the filming, witness to his father’s coughing fits, his breathlessness, his shaking. Aldo had collapsed in his arms the minute they stopped recording, too weak to make it back to his bedroom without assistance.

He’d held on for Gideon.

For this day.

“My son remains my proxy, as is his right,” Aldo said in the video. “My seat is his. My responsibilities are his. All the power I had, they now belong to Gideon.” He smiled then, and it took a while, but it crept up to his eyes. Pride. Love. And the bit of sadness Gideon hoped only he caught before it disappeared. “As is also the right of the Winters’s seat, Gideon has the deciding vote and control of the purse.”

The video ended, and everyone stared from the blank screen to Gideon. The heaviest tension filled the room, putting him on alert. Samir must have felt it, too, because he relaxed his stance at the door, hands hanging loosely at his sides, gaze casting about, searching out threats. Gideon could’ve told him they didn’t have anything to worry about. Not yet. Whoever it was in the room that wanted him dead wouldn’t make their move now. No, they’d strike from the shadows, under the cover of darkness, as was the way of cowards.

“Has?” Joseph Morrow got to his feet and stepped toward Gideon. Samir tensed, but Gideon held him off with a slight shake of his head. “Did he say you already have control of the purse strings?”

Gideon grinned. “He did, and yes, I do.” Lifting an eyebrow, Gideon said, “I hope that’s not gonna be a problem for you?”

Morrow stared at him, visibly struggling to maintain his composure. “You’re an imposter. And the sooner we prove it, the sooner we can kill you and send your body back to wherever you came from.”

“You already tried to kill me, Joseph.” Gideon glanced around, speaking to all of them when he said, “You couldn’t do it before. You’ll find it even more difficult this time, seeing as I’m more than capable of fighting back. Besides”—he turned toward the door—“it’s against the rules to kill a member of The Council, isn’t it?”

“You’re not a member of The Council,” Prislaya Chopra spoke up from behind him.

Gideon chuckled. “Says who?” He didn’t look back, allowing Samir, Will, and Kaleb to encircle and lead him out the back of the building and into the waiting SUV.

Once settled inside the vehicle, Gideon unbuttoned his jacket and sat back, waiting until they were a few minutes into the ride to speak. “Send it.”

Seated in front of him, Marco tapped away on his tablet and then said, “It’s been sent.”

A heaviness settled around them at those three words and what they really meant. Gideon exhaled. Just like that, his days of living in hiding, of anonymity, were over. Marco had just sent an alert out that the long-lost Winters heir was home, stepping into his now-dead father’s role as head of the billion-dollar Winters media conglomerate. There would be obligatory shit he’d have to do as part of stepping back into the light and as head of an international corporation. All that was surface shit. He wouldn’t be focusing his energies on the business. No, he and his father already had someone picked out who’d be running things behind the scenes while Gideon remained the public face so as not to arouse any suspicion. All of his focus would be on unveiling the traitor or traitors inside The Council. Nothing was more important.

“G.”

He glanced at Samir, who sat at his side.

“Are you ready for this?” Gideon opened his mouth, but Samir continued. “Not The Council shit. I know you’ve been ready for that.” His dark eyes bored into Gideon. “I’m talking about the scrutiny that comes with stepping into the public role of being your father’s son. You never really got to experience it before you had to go into hiding. There will be questions. Everybody wanting a piece of you. Shit’s gonna get crazy for a while.”

Gideon knew that, but he wasn’t fazed by any of it. “We control as much as we can.” He lifted a shoulder. “The rest will work itself out.”

As a result of Gideon coming out of the shadows, people who were privy to such knowledge would immediately know he was now on The Council. They’d be coming to him, because as much as the other members of The Council wanted to pretend otherwise, the Winters’s word, the Winters’s approval, the Winters’s influence was the one that carried the most weight.

They’d be coming in droves to curry favor.

Gideon didn’t care about anything except getting revenge for himself and his family. Fuck anything else. He’d do whatever needed to be done. His father had taught him that—do whatever you had to for the family, to protect the family. His blood family was gone now. He was the only one standing, and that made him an even bigger target in some respects. Kill the heir and the empire would come tumbling down.

But he wouldn’t make it easy.

They’d have to put in work if they wanted his throne.

4

Samir had warned Gideon that shit would get crazy. He should have listened. Every day since the public found out he’d returned from the dead (thanks to Gideon himself), there were no less than fifty reporters following him whenever he made a public appearance.

And he’d had to make a lot of public appearances, something that irked him.

He blew out a loud breath as he sank into a chair—his father’s chair, in his father’s office—yanking on his tie. Samir stood just inside the doorway, watching him but not saying anything. They’d just battled their way through the thickest throng of reporters yet on their way into the Winters’s building, and damn it, Gideon missed anonymity.

They had a private—secret—entrance and exit from the building, but the public needed to see him coming and going from the company. For now at least. He was ready for all the pretend shit to be over.

“How much longer do we have to keep this up?” he asked Samir as if he didn’t know.

“Not much longer.” His friend’s lips quirked.

Gideon rolled his eyes, then glanced at his watch. “Where are they?” He was about to give his one and only sit-down interview, and it hadn’t even started yet, but already he hated it. Again, this was part of the plan he and his father had constructed, so he’d follow it to the letter. They’d chosen an unknown reporter from a small online publication, instead of going with the usual high profile TV people. Every decision he made, every action he took, from the moment his father took his last breath, was for a specific reason.

“They’re bringing her up now,” Samir told him, touching a finger to his ear. “In the elevator.”

That was Gideon’s cue. He got to his feet and strode past Samir out to the elevator, where he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting. The top floor of the Winters’s building housed his father’s private offices, his assistant and receptionist offices, as well as two conference rooms—one large and the other much smaller. The floor itself could only be accessed via a private elevator. There was another, separate elevator that went directly to and from the office by way of that secret entrance and could only be used with a code, one only Gideon and his team possessed.

The elevator dinged, its doors sliding open. Inside, Will and Kaleb hung back as the reporter stepped out first. Ree Spencer’s height barely came up to Gideon’s chest. Half Korean, half Irish, she was a stunner with chin-length dark hair and a heart-shaped face. She stood in front of him with a small smile, head cocked. She’d been twelve the last time he’d seen her, with big brown eyes, skinny, awkward limbs, and glasses that kept sliding down her button nose. She wasn’t wearing glasses now, and the innocence she’d had back then was long gone. He understood all too well that life had a way of stripping you down, leaving you with only what was absolutely necessary.

Innocence wasn’t one of those things that made the cut.

Ree was chosen because her father was in prison, sentenced to seventy-five years for embezzlement, corporate espionage, intimidation, lying, fraud, and a whole host of other shit that Ree worked hard to distance herself from.

“How did you find me?”

His lips twitched. They hadn’t seen each other in so long and those were her first words to him. Typical Ree, always asking questions. “Hello, Ree.”

“How did you find me?” she demanded, ignoring Samir.

“I never lost you, Ree.” She’d legally changed her full name, Rebecca, to the childhood nickname he’d given her and adopted her maternal grandmother’s maiden name. But she couldn’t hide, not from him.

“I thought Gideon Winters was dead.”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

She snorted, clutching the strap of the gray messenger bag slung across her body “And you decided I should be the one to write your coming out story?”

“I mean, you’re the only reporter I know.”

Her eyes flashed. “You don’t know me. Hell, I don’t even know if you are who you say you are.”

“You were my first kiss,” he reminded her. “Next to the duck pond in my backyard. Your glasses fell off and I stepped on them, then had to lead you home by the hand because you couldn’t see for shit.” And that was as far as he wanted to go down memory lane. He ignored Ree’s gaping and turned around, heading back into the office. He didn’t check to see if she followed, but she would. She was a reporter, after all, but more than that, Ree had always been the curious type.

He’d found that very annoying back then.

In the office, he perched on the edge of the desk and waited for her to join him. When she did reluctantly, he asked, “Are we doing this, or do I have to find someone else?” It was rhetorical. They both knew she couldn’t buy the amount of exposure he was about to give her. When her father was revealed as the corrupt crook he was, their family had lost everything. Ree’s mother took her own life, unable to deal with the shame and guilt. Ree and her sister were all that was left of a family that used to be almost as powerful as Gideon’s own.

Ree needed money. Her business was failing.

She needed him. And he needed her.

He watched as she sank into the chair Samir pulled out for her, daintily crossing her jeans-covered legs and nibbling on her bottom lip. “I have a million questions,” she warned him.

Gideon nodded. “Ask them.” When they were done, he’d ask her one of his own.

The interview lasted almost three hours, and Gideon barely noticed when Samir brought in food for him and Ree at some point. She was good at what she did, and though they’d started off a bit stiff and formal, in no time at all they’d settled into a rhythm borne of familiarity. At least, the familiarity of the innocent children they’d once been.

“Thank you.” Ree got to her feet, shoving her laptop into her bag. When she straightened, she held out a hand. “It was lovely to see you, Gideon. I’m glad you’re back.”

He took her hand, holding it in his as he asked, “When was the last time your father called you?”

She blinked, clearly thrown. “My— What?” When she tried to tug out of his hold, he refused to release her.

“Please answer the question, Ree. When was the last time Warren called you?”

“That man is not my father,” she spat. “He calls me every Friday and I never answer, but he won’t stop calling.” Her facade was beginning to crack, so Gideon released her and she stepped away from him, eyes shooting daggers.

It was Thursday, so the next phone call would be coming tomorrow. “Answer the next time he calls.”

“What the fuck, Gideon? Don’t tell me what to do. This has nothing to do with you.”

He glanced at Samir, who stepped forward and took Ree’s bag from her, the one containing her laptop with the audio and video files, as well as her backup drives.

“Hey. What⁠—”

“Ree.” She jerked her angry gaze to him. “We’ll hold on to that until you answer your father’s call.”

Her eyes bulged. “You can’t do that! Are you serious?”

He nodded once. “Deadly so, I’m afraid.” Will and Kaleb entered the room then, likely summoned by Samir. “Will and Kaleb will escort you out.”

“But I—I need my laptop.” Her tone turned pleading. “Gideon, please. You don’t understand.”

“I do. And tomorrow after you’ve spoken to your father, you’ll contact Samir…” His friend held out a card that Ree snatched from him. “Everything will be fine.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Ree, do this and I’ll make it worth your while. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” she said softly. “And I never will, not after this.” She turned away, marching past the others on her way to the door. “I was happy to learn you weren’t dead, Gideon, but now…” She shook her head. “You’re just like him,” she tossed over her shoulder without looking at him. “Just like my father.”

Not the best comparison, but he’d been called worse, so he didn’t care. He and Ree weren’t friends. They’d known each other as kids and that was it.

Will and Kaleb hurried after her, leaving Gideon and Samir all alone in the office. Gideon dropped into the chair Ree vacated, heaving a sigh.

“It was necessary,” Samir said above his head.

“Of course.” Everything was necessary. Ree wasn’t a kid anymore. She, more than anyone, knew that sometimes you had to do whatever you had to in order to get what you wanted. He wouldn’t apologize for it.

“Marco has an update,” Samir told him, and Gideon shot to his feet.

“I could use some good news.”

“We’ve found Ennis Canto’s secret son.”

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you’d gone to bed like I told you to,” André scolded Juliette, who rolled her eyes at him as they made their way home from the basketball court.

“I’m not tired,” she protested, but the words were weak, as were her playing skills back there. “I just wasn't feeling it.” She shrugged.

He scoffed. “Yeah, okay. But when you get in, don’t let me hear you on the phone. It’s dinner, homework, and then bed. No excuses.” He sounded so much like his mother at that moment that he stopped walking, staring down at Jules with wide eyes.

She’d also stopped on the sidewalk, meeting his gaze with big eyes. “You sound like Mom.”

A pang went through him and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I know.” He glanced around, blowing out a breath. “Sorry.” And he didn’t even know why he was apologizing. Shit. “Come on, let’s go.”

But Jules didn’t move. “Can we have pizza?”

“Jules, we already had pizza twice this week.” And it was only Wednesday.

“I know, but the food you cooked last night wasn’t— I mean…” She glanced away, probably trying to spare his feelings, but he already knew the new recipe he’d tried to cook last night had been a major fail.

“You can say it,” he told her with a chuckle. “It sucked.” He could cook, but his knowledge wasn’t extensive, and trying new things usually included lots of trial and error. Mostly error.

“Well, you did stop making pasta every single day, so you get points for that.”

“Hey.” He gave her a mock stern look as they continued on their way. “Pasta is delicious.”

“Yeah, but every single day?”

“Why not? Look what happened last night when I tried something new.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“If we have pizza tonight—“ Her eyes brightened but he held up a hand. “If we have pizza tonight, then I’m making pasta tomorrow.” Best he put her on notice now.

“Okay. Fine. Let’s go!” She rolled on ahead of him to the pizza shop and he chuckled, quickening his strides to catch up.

They’d stayed later than they normally did at the basketball courts, but a group of neighborhood kids had joined them and Jules had clearly been having fun despite her obvious tiredness. So they’d stayed. Now, the sun had long gone down as they made their way back. He caught up with her just as she reached the entrance to the pizza place, pulling the door open and keeping his gaze on her to ensure she didn’t have any issues entering. One time, one of the wheels in her chair had gotten stuck in a deep crack near the entrance.

Once she’d entered, he followed behind her. The door slammed shut at his back and he took a step forward, only to almost crash into Jules. He opened his mouth to chastise her for stopping abruptly and damn near swallowed his tongue.

The owner of the place, Tony, was on his knees not even two feet away with someone clad in all black, a mask covering their face, standing over him, pointing a gun at Tony’s forehead.

They’d walked into a robbery.

“Dré?”

He didn’t respond to his sister’s shaking voice—he was too busy eyeing the second gunman behind the counter holding Tony’s wife, Vanessa, as she sobbed quietly, tears running down her face.

Get out. Get out.

He grabbed Juliette’s wheelchair handles with both hands, taking a step back. Then another. And anoth⁠—

“Ah. Ah.”

Something touched his nape and he froze.

“Leaving so soon?”

There was a third one. His heart dropped and he quickly threw up both hands, swallowing the panic as he held his body still. “I’m sorry. We don’t—we don’t want any trouble. We’re leaving.”

Jules made a sound and he bit down on his tongue, hating that he couldn’t even comfort her.

“Why? Was it something we said?” The person behind him, a man judging by the slurred tone, prodded André in the neck with what could only be a gun. “Go on in, you and the little lady in the chair.”

“Please. We haven’t seen your faces, let us go.”

“Not how it works,” the person muttered in his ear. “And I’m not gonna tell you again.”

“Dré?”

“Shh. It’s okay,” he told Jules. Even though he was shaking. Even though he didn’t know how they’d get out of this.

Tony’s wife’s sobs got louder as André did what he’d been ordered to do, rolling Juliette farther into the shop and closer to where Tony knelt, face red, his body still. It was as if the big, jovial guy André had always known didn’t want to even blink. Fear for his sister, for himself, iced André’s insides as he touched the back of Juliette’s neck, trying to impart comfort. He didn’t think he succeeded, not with her whimpers that tore at him.

“Kneel.” The guy behind André stepped into his line of sight. He was stocky and dressed in head-to-toe black, gloved hand steady on the gun he pointed in André’s face. “Next to Tony over here,” he said, indicating where with a jerk of his head.

André inched away from Juliette, making sure to keep his hands raised as he moved closer to Tony.

“You too,” the guy said, addressing Juliette. “On your knees.”

“She can’t.” André turned to him. “Can’t you see—” A blow to the face sent him staggering. Felt as if his brain rattled around in his skull from that one hit. His ears rang, but even over that loudness he heard Juliette’s screams and Vanessa’s sobs. Something warm trickled down the side of his face and he touched it with a shaking hand. His vision jumped around, but he was still able to make out red.

“Dré! Dré! Don’t hurt him!”

“Jul—” His knees gave out and he crashed to the floor. “Jules.” He had to get to her. But his vision kept winking in and out. How fucking hard had he been hit? And with what? He got onto all fours, trying to crawl in the direction of his sister’s screams, but someone grabbed him by the neck and yanked him back into a kneeling position.

“If the little lady isn’t out of that chair by the time I count to ten, I’m shooting her.”

“No. Please.” Blood poured down his face, obscuring his vision. Or was it tears? “She can’t. Don’t do this.”

The grip on him disappeared and he rocked, blinking as the guy stepped toward Jules.

“One.”

“No. No!” André reached for him, but the guy wasn’t close enough. His head hurt like a motherfucker, but he struggled to his feet.

“Two.”

“Three.”

André launched himself in front of Jules, giving her his back as he faced the gunman. “Shoot me. Let her go.” He opened his arms wide. “Let her go and you can have me. Take m-my wallet. My car keys. I have—” The money from his monster of a father. He could give them that. “I have money. You can t-take that.”

“Just shut him up.” The one holding the gun on Tony spoke for the first time. “He talks too fucking much. Shut him up and let’s get out of here.”

What did that⁠—

A bang sounded and André flinched. Juliette screamed. Had he been shot? He didn’t feel the bullet. But that had to be the adrenaline numbing him, right? The gunman in front of him jerked, body flying backward before he crumpled to the floor.

What the fuck?

André’s knees gave up on him then and he crashed to the floor as chaos rained around him. Bodies dropped. Another of the masked men—the one on Tony—slumped to the floor, this time with a spray of blood that hit Tony in the face. What was happening? He scrambled for cover, reaching out for Juliette. The excruciating pain in his head was making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open—everything around him was spinning—but he held on to his sister, yanking her out of the chair and down onto the floor with him, covering her violently shaking body with his own.

He murmured to her, words meant to offer comfort. Telling her they would be all right, but he didn’t know for sure. In the blink of an eye, their night had gone from mundane to this waking nightmare. Spine-bending chills raced from his head down his back, and he squeezed his eyes shut as gunshots rang out around him. He didn’t know who was shooting or where they’d come from, and he didn’t want to know; he just wanted to keep Juliette safe the way he’d promised their mother he would.

He wanted⁠—

A hand on his shoulder made him stiffen, but he didn’t move. He refused to move.

“You’re safe now,” a low, deep voice said above him. It wasn’t a voice he recognized. He didn’t trust the speaker.

“André.”

Without slackening his grip on Juliette, he jerked his head up. The room spun with the sudden movement, and he sucked in a breath as his vision blinked in and out.

“You’re hurt.” Blue eyes. That was all he saw, bright blue eyes staring down at him. “Let me help.”

“No, leave…” He felt his body giving out, his hold on Jules sliding away. Panic rode him, but he couldn’t make himself form the proper words. “Jules. Protect—” He passed out before he could complete the sentence.

5

André came to with a jerk, heart hammering in his chest. He lurched upright and glanced around. There was nothing about his surroundings he recognized, nothing about the soft mattress under his ass and the stark white of the walls. The bedroom was almost clinical in its cleanliness, so different from his own bedroom with all its color and clutter.

What the— Where was he?

“Jules?” Where was his sister? He pushed to the edge of the bed, wincing at the pain in his head. He touched a hand to his forehead and felt a bandage there. At least the pain wasn’t as bad as it’d been before, but where was— “Jules!” How had they gotten to wherever they were? Who’d taken them? The last thing he remembered was blue eyes telling him he was safe, but that couldn’t be true because he didn’t know where he was and he couldn’t find his sister. Panic burned the back of his throat, turning it bitter, and he rose on shaky legs only to sink back onto the bed.

Fuck. Maybe he stood too soon, but he had to get to Jules. Wherever she was. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to ease the fear and panic. Since their mom’s death, it’d been him and Jules. She’d never been out of his sight. He was supposed to take care of her, protect her. But now?

A sound near the door caught his attention and he swung his gaze in that direction, then blinked.

A man stood there. Dark blond, taller than André’s 5’11” height and way more fit. He stared with frost-blue eyes framed by dark brows. Familiar eyes. This was who he’d seen back at the pizza place before he passed out. Sharp nose, strong jawline, a hint of scruff, and full lips. This guy was beautiful, but something about him put André on alert and had words dying on his tongue. Something about him, about the way he stood there with his hands in the pockets of his dark slacks, crisp white shirt straining over taut muscles, multiple buttons undone giving more than a peek at a hairless chest.

“Who are you?” André demanded when he found the courage to speak. “Where is my sister?”

Dude didn’t show any kind of reaction. Instead, he simply strode closer, his black leather shoes making no sound on the exposed wood floor. “André, right?”

A voice so deep, André felt its rumble to the soles of his feet. He mentally shook off the thought and stood on unsteady legs. The guy didn’t move. “Where is my sister?” His voice rose, and though he knew he should be wary, he didn’t care. “I want to see Jules.”

“Miss Juliette is sleeping.” The guy’s tone was steady, without inflection, as he studied André. “She fell asleep watching over you and had to be put to bed. I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted her to overexert herself more after all she’d been through tonight.”

André swallowed at the reminder and glanced away before returning his gaze to him. “I want to see her. And what is your name? Why are we here, wherever here is?”

“I’m Gideon.” He turned toward the door, giving a confused André his back. “Let’s go see your sister.”

André rushed to catch up to him as they walked through what appeared to be a penthouse apartment, judging from the views out a bank of windows that made up a wall. There was nobody about and their footsteps—well, his clumsy footsteps—echoed on the gleaming floors as they climbed a flight of winding stairs that took them to a second floor. He had a million questions but swallowed them all. He needed to see Jules first, make sure she was safe before anything else.

She was priority.

The guy—Gideon—stopped abruptly in front of a door and pointed. “She’s in there. I’ll wait for you out here.”

André pushed the door open without a word and entered. Jules was in the middle of the bed, eyes closed. He went to her, touching a hand to her forehead, then her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath and checking the gentle rise and fall of her chest before releasing a deep breath.

She was safe.

He sat next to her on the edge of the bed and glanced around. This bedroom was way different than the one he’d woken up in. For one thing, this one had color—soft pastels on the walls, the furniture, the rug. Someone who knew what they were doing and actually had taste had decorated this bedroom. Jules’s wheelchair was positioned inches away from him, near the bed, within her reach. A plate dotted with only crumbs sat on a nearby small white table along with an empty glass.

She’d been fed.

He shook his head, so filled with questions, and reached out, stroking Jules’s arm. She’d witnessed something horrific today. Something he wished he could erase from her memory. After their mother’s death, they'd lived a quiet life, one devoid of excitement, just like their mother wanted. Everything about their lives was mundane, but tonight changed that. He needed to make sure Jules was okay and if she wasn’t, figure out a way to ensure that she was.

As if she heard his thoughts, his sister opened her eyes with a deep breath.

“Dré!” She reached for him and he went to her, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight.

“Are you okay?” He released her, cupping the back of her head to examine her face, her eyes. While he’d been out cold for how fucking long, she’d been alone with that guy out there. Gideon. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Her gaze tracked his features. “You’re the one who was bleeding.” Worry shook her words. “You passed out and I couldn’t get you to wake up. Thank God Gideon was there.”

He frowned at that. “You know him?”

“Everybody knows him, Dré. He’s been on the news, like, twenty-four-seven since he came back.”

On the news? “Like a reporter?” But no, that didn’t fit. He didn’t know how he knew but he did.

Jules rolled her eyes at him, so clearly she was okay. “Dré, he’s, like, a billionaire ten times over. Everyone thought he died when he was a kid, but it turned out he’d gone into hiding because people were trying to kill him. His dad died and so he came back to run the business. His name is Gideon Winters.”

He gaped at her. “How do you know all this?”

“Because I watch the news.” Her expression said “duh.”

André did his best to avoid the news because there was always something about the man who’d fathered him on there. Some philanthropy he was involved in, a new company he’d acquired, an achievement his kid—the daughter he claimed—a brilliant lawyer, made. He stayed away from it. He didn’t want to know, but apparently, while he’d been burying his head in the sand, his sister was keeping up with world events.

“Forget about that for a minute. Are you sure you’re okay?” When she nodded, he asked, “What happened when I passed out?” He scooped Jules up in his arms and positioned her into a sitting position against the fluffy pillows, then got onto the bed next to her.

“I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice trembled and she clung to him. “You were out and I couldn’t do anything.”

His heart broke for how scared she must’ve been. “I’m sorry you had to see all of that. That you were so afraid and I wasn’t there to help you.” He hugged her to him, squeezing her lightly as he fought with the emotions roiling inside him.

“Gideon told me he’d take care of you and I believed him.”

Just because she’d seen news reports about him?

“He and his people took us with them, and they brought us here. A doctor was waiting when we arrived, and she looked both of us over and said you’d be okay. Gideon let me watch over you for a while, then he said I should rest because you would want that. And he had his chef make me something to eat, then he brought me here and I fell asleep.”

There were still so many questions banging around in André’s head, but it looked as if he’d have to get the answers from the man himself. He pressed a kiss to Jules’s forehead. “I’m gonna go talk to, uh, Gideon. Thank him for helping us. And then we’ll leave, okay?”

She nodded, meeting his gaze hesitantly.

One last kiss on her forehead, then he got off the bed. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Gideon waited out there for him, but he wasn’t alone. There were four other people with him, conversing in hushed tones. Three men, one woman. All with a noticeable bulge in their waistbands. They all had that air around them, warning of danger.

Shit. His steps halted.

Gideon glanced up. “Ah.” Those blue eyes. Like high beams, they blinded him. “André, just in time.” He stuck his hands back into his pockets and faced André squarely, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe you can tell us why someone wants to kill you?”

Ennis Canto’s secret son wasn’t anything like Gideon would have expected.

From what he’d learned from Marco, André didn’t have any contact with his father. It seemed Ennis wanted nothing to do with André, but he paid him a shit load of money every month.

Curious.

Gideon watched André as he stood with his back against the door he’d just closed, expression startled. After doing a deep dive into André’s and his sister’s lives, Marco had warned Gideon that André was different, but Gideon hadn’t believed it.

He did now.

They lived simply, despite the money Gideon knew André had inherited upon his mother’s death and Ennis’s monthly deposits.

A payoff to ensure the unwanted son kept his distance and his mouth shut?

More and more, Gideon found himself seriously disliking Ennis.

“Nobody’s trying to kill me.” André blinked at him. “Why—Why would you say that?”

Gideon shrugged, taking a step toward him. “Maybe because we just rescued you from a sticky situation? One that would have definitely seen you and your precious sister dead?”

André narrowed his eyes, jaw ticking. “Jules told me what you did for her. For us.” He swallowed, shuffling from foot to foot. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Jules and I are gonna leave⁠—”

“Before you go, I’d like to have a word.” Gideon turned on his heel, heading toward his office without waiting to see if André followed. The others didn’t because they already knew he needed privacy. He didn’t want to spook André more than he already had.

In his office, he stood in front of his desk, arms folded, waiting, barely hiding his irritation as it took André an inordinately long time to enter the room. When he did, he did so cautiously, as if expecting something to jump out at him.

As André gazed around the room, Gideon studied him. André was slimmer than him—long torso, long limbs. His hair was cut short, skin medium brown, eyes a few shades lighter. Thick brows, full lips. There were drops of blood on his blue t-shirt, and his black jeans and sneakers were dusty. The single gold cross earring in his left ear intrigued Gideon.

“Jules tells me you’re some kind of important person.”

Gideon smiled on the inside at André’s words. “Your sister is…remarkable.”

André pursed his lips. “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Oh, it’s very much a compliment.” Gideon grinned. “I think she knows more about me than I do.”

André winced. “Sorry about that.”

“No.” Gideon brushed off the apology. “It’s all right.”

André stared at him for a beat, then straightened, folding his arms. “What did you want to discuss?”

Right. Gideon took a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. “When my people pulled you and Jules from the pizza shop⁠—”

“Shit!” André jerked. “The cops. I didn’t— I need to speak to someone, don’t I? They’ll want my information and to know what happened. I should—” He turned toward the door.

“That’s been taken care of. You’re fine.”

The other man faced him slowly. “It’s been taken care of?” Deep lines creased his forehead. “What does that mean?”

Gideon smiled and walked toward him, stopping just before they were chest to chest. “It means exactly what you think it means.”

“I—” André shook his head slightly. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me. What do you mean?” he asked forcefully.

Being questioned and doubted was something new for Gideon. He didn’t like it. He swallowed the irritation. “The pizza place has been shut down temporarily.”

“Tony and⁠—”

“They’re fine. I’m sure you can appreciate that they’ll need some time to recover from their ordeal. They’ll be back when they’re ready.” With their bank accounts a lot heftier.

André studied him, and Gideon swore he saw the other man’s brain working to figure out what was really going on.

“The cops aren’t looking for me?”

“Why would they? The robbers are dead and Tony and his wife are fine. There was nobody else involved in the robbery.”

André blinked when it clicked and he spluttered. “They don’t know Jules and I were there?”

“Did you want them to know?” Gideon lifted an eyebrow. “So your sister can be traumatized all over again when she’s made to recall the events?”

André rubbed a hand over his mouth, meeting Gideon’s gaze with wide eyes. “Why did you do this? What did you do exactly?”

“Money can make any unpleasantness go away, André.” Gideon knew before he said it that those were the wrong words. As he watched, André stiffened, his expression turning agonized before he smoothed it out.

“Right. And what do you want in exchange for your help? Because men like you aren’t the altruistic type.”

Gideon couldn’t help the smile that appeared at those words. “Do you know many men like me then?”

“I know enough.” André rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Like I started to say earlier, when we rescued you, Jules told us where you lived. I had one of my men go there, with the help of the key Jules gave us⁠—”

“Why the hell would she do that?” André blurted out. “You’re strangers.”

“I don’t know why she did it, why she trusted us, but you should be grateful she did.” Gideon made his way back to his desk and picked up his iPad. He turned it on, tapped the Photos icon, then held out the device to André. “This is what your house looks like.”

André’s eyes bulged as he studied the images. “What the fuck? Who did this?” His home had been destroyed, torn apart. Furniture overturned, drawers emptied onto the floor, cupboards ripped off. It was as if whoever did it had been searching for something. “Who did this?”

Instead of answering him, Gideon picked up the cracked phone that had been sitting on his desk and offered it to André, who took it hesitantly. “This belonged to one of the dead men from the pizza place. Look at the most recent text messages.”

He watched André’s eyes go back and forth as he read, his skin turning paler and paler until he was damn near ashen. “It’s photos of me and Jules,” he whispered.

“Yes.” Gideon nodded. “So, I’m gonna ask again, who wants you dead?”

André stood there holding Gideon’s iPad and a dead man’s phone, and Gideon had never seen anybody look so lost, so confused. This wasn’t André’s world. He must feel it in the pit of his stomach, the sense of impending doom. Gideon could’ve told him, as André took a step backward, that he was already in too deep.

In over his head and he didn’t even know it.

“I don’t—I don’t know who would want to hurt us.” André’s voice rattled as Gideon cocked his head.

“No?” He sat on the edge of his desk. “Tell me about Ennis Canto.”

André blanched.

“He is your father, isn’t he?”

André gaped at him “How do you⁠—”

“Could he be trying to get rid of you permanently?”

6

Gideon’s words came at him so fast, André couldn’t keep up. One after the other, his secrets kept falling from Gideon’s lips, and it took a minute for him to truly hear the question Gideon was awaiting an answer to.

“Could he be trying to get rid of you permanently?”

He, the man who’d fathered and abandoned André.

Someone had tried to kill him and Jules? Their home had clearly been ransacked, as if the perpetrators had been searching for something. What the fuck was his life right now? And now Gideon thought the culprit was Ennis Canto. The same man who wanted nothing to do with André? Couldn’t be.

“André.”

He blinked at Gideon, who watched him with a calm, direct stare.

“Answer the question. Could your father be behind this?”

His father. It was laughable that someone would even be asking him that kind of question. Why would anyone—even the man who didn’t want him—want to kill him? He did nothing but mind his business and take care of Jules. He literally did nothing else. “I think you’re mistaken,” he told Gideon. There could be no other explanation for this. He had André confused with someone else. “Thank you for your assistance earlier, but I’m gonna take my sister and leave now. We won’t take up any more of your time.” He turned toward the door. Obviously, this guy had been in hiding for far too long; he couldn’t be thinking straight. Nothing he said made any sense.

“There is a price on your head.” Gideon’s voice didn’t raise. He just said that shit calmly at André’s back as if he spoke those words every day. What kind of world was he living in and how the fuck could André get far away from it? “If you leave here, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

André spun to face him at that. “Guarantee my safety?” He narrowed his eyes. “Dude, I don’t know you. You can’t guarantee shit for me.” The fucking ego on this guy.

Gideon’s lips twitched and he strode over. He did that a lot, André noticed. Stayed close, up in his face, chest to chest. His stare was intense, but André refused to back down or look away. Gideon and Ennis moved in the same world. They were cut from the same cloth. Both thought they were entitled to power and respect simply because of their last names and the amount of money in their bank accounts.

“I can guarantee you and your sister won’t survive the morning if you leave here,” Gideon murmured. “I can guarantee you have no idea the shitstorm you’re in the middle of just by virtue of whose blood flows through your veins.” He cocked his head, expression almost amused when he said, “And I can also guarantee there is nowhere safer than here, under my protection.”

Secrets shifted behind his eyes, bigger and darker shit that André didn’t want to know about. Just the knowledge that they existed at all had him wanting to take a step back. He meant what he said; he didn’t know anything about Gideon besides what little Jules told him earlier. And if any of that were true…he wanted exactly zero parts of it.

He tried to think rationally. Tried to work shit out in his head, ignoring Gideon and that stare of his that made André almost want to do what the other man asked. Almost.

The house had been ransacked; he’d seen the proof of it. His and Jules’s photo had been on the pizza shop robber’s phone. They were targets, he and Jules.

But targeted for what?

By whom? Not the father who wanted nothing to do with him? The same person who deposited money into André’s account every month as if that was all he needed for absolution? Nah.

He took in the man standing in front of him as if he had zero care in the world, waiting for André to speak.

“I want to know what you know.” Because Gideon Winters, with all his money and his infinitely powerful reach, definitely knew something.

“Why?” Gideon lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe me?”

André rolled his eyes but didn’t give him the satisfaction of speaking.

After a short pause, Gideon blew out a breath and returned to his desk, picking up his iPad. He gazed down at it, swiping with one finger as he spoke. “There were six men in total. Robbing the pizza shop wasn’t part of the plan. They were just supposed to wait there for you since they knew your routine.”

How the fuck did he even know that much? André opened his mouth to ask, but Gideon beat him to the punch.

“We found the two who destroyed your place. They were happy to share some things.”

André blinked. What the fuck? “What does that mean?”

“Hmm?” Gideon glanced up at him. “Oh, my security team had a nice conversation with them.”

See, the words said one thing but that tone and the gleam in his eyes said something different. The hairs on André’s arms lifted. Out of his depth. He was out. Of. His. Fucking. Depth. Who was this man? And why was André still standing there, listening to him talk? Why wasn’t he grabbing Jules and getting the fuck outta there? “T-that's five. The three at the pizza shop and two at my house. That’s five. One’s missing.”

“Oh no, he’s not missing,” Gideon said, and fear iced André’s chest.

That tone signaled something bad. “What do you want?” He’d asked before and gotten no satisfactory response. “All this that you’re doing…” He gestured in a circle with a finger. “You don’t know me, haven’t met me until tonight, yet you’re invested.” Because he saw it in Gideon’s eyes. “What do you want?”

Gideon put the iPad down on his desk, then faced André with a smile. “I want Ennis Canto.”

André frowned. “For what?”

Gideon simply lifted a shoulder. “Why does one man want another man?”

Okay, he could keep his secrets. André wanted nothing to do with it. “Where do my sister and I come in? How did you even know about my connection to Ennis?”

Gideon grinned. “There are no secrets I’m not privy to, not when I am who I am.”

“What does that even mean? Who are you?”

“A man on a mission. As for why I’m helping you, you’re how I’ll get close to Ennis.”

And there it was. “No.” He didn’t give a fuck who was out there trying to do what to him. He’d chance that rather than willingly stay and allow Gideon to use him and Jules as fucking bait. “Jules and I are leaving.” He didn’t wait for a response, yanking open the door and retracing his steps back to Jules in quick strides. He pulled open Jules’s bedroom door and found her reclining in bed, chuckling at something playing on the humongous TV while eating a slice of cake.

“Dré!” She smiled at him. “Here, have some cake.”

“Not now, Jules. Get dressed, we’re leaving.”

She pouted. “Already? I thought we were staying the night.”

“Dunno who gave you that impression, but they were wrong.” He glanced around the room, then back to her. “You need help with anything?” he asked, ignoring her disappointed expression.

“No.” Her shoulders slumped.

“Hey.” He cupped her chin, tugging her head up to meet his gaze. “We don’t know these people. We don’t belong here.” He was going to get them a hotel for the next couple of days and use that time to figure out his next moves, but he would figure it out.

Jules nodded, lips pressed together.

“Okay. Now go ahead and get yourself together. We leave in twenty. I’ll be outside your door.” He left her with a peck on the cheek and exited the bedroom, standing just outside. He half expected Gideon to follow and try to stop him, but he hadn’t. So that was good.

If there truly was someone out there trying to hurt him and Jules, what was he going to do? Call the cops? He couldn’t tell them about the pizza shop because as far as they knew, there’d been no other parties involved. And what could the cops do against someone as powerful as Ennis Canto if he were indeed the one behind all that happened tonight? Gideon had shown André just how easy it was for men like that to come in and change the course of an investigation with nothing but their presence.

How was he going to keep Jules safe?

“I’m ready.” Jules wheeled herself out of the bedroom just as Gideon appeared as if on cue. “Gideon!”

“Miss Juliette.” His smile was genuine, reaching his eyes, crinkling the corners. André stared. “It’s been a pleasure having you, even if our time together was so short.” He knelt beside her and she threw her arms around his neck as if they were old friends.

André shook his head. Jules was like that, open and friendly. He had to always be the one to bring her back down to earth. “Let’s go, Jules. Mister Winters.” He nodded at Gideon, who straightened to his full height once Jules released him. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course.” Gideon nodded, expression impassive, save for something that gleamed in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re not worried about the home invasion and attempt on you and your sister’s life.”

Jules gasped. “What?”

Fuck!

“I’m sorry you couldn’t take me up on my offer to stay here under my protection.” Gideon held André’s gaze, his eyes issuing a challenge. “Be safe out there.”

“Wait, André. What did he say?”

“Jules—” Gideon did that shit on purpose. André swallowed his fury as he told his sister, “Don’t worry.”

“Somebody tried to kill us?” Jules’s shrill voice bounced off the walls, panic in her eyes, on her face. “Somebody wants to kill us?” Her lips trembled.

“Jules.” André bent over and took her face in his hands, silently cursing when he felt the tremors that racked her body. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you."

“But why are we leaving?” Her eyes were wet and clouded with fear. “G-Gideon can protect us.”

“That’s not his responsibility, Jules," André told his sister softly. “We’re not his responsibility.”

“But there are people out there who want to hurt us!” she yelled. “How can we protect ourselves? Gideon can do that. He has the power to do that.”

André very much resented Jules’s faith in the all-powerful Gideon Winters, who she’d only met that very night, but he couldn’t call her on it. She was scared, and it was his job to alleviate that fear. To ensure her safety. And right now, she buried her face in his chest, clinging to him, her body shaking. She was scared out of her mind. It broke his heart.

“Hey.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “We can stay. We’ll stay here and let Gideon protect us until we know there’s no threat.” He’d do anything to keep her safe.

Jules leaned back, gaze searching his. “You’re sure?” she asked, voice hesitant.

“Do you feel safe here?” She nodded vigorously. “Then of course, I’m sure.” And it was worth it to see the smile that broke out on her face, wobbly at first and then steadier. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and released him, reaching up both hands to Gideon and hugging him around his waist.

“Thank you, Gideon.” She wheeled back to her bedroom. “I’ll be in my room!” she called before the door closed behind her.

Her room. André faced Gideon with a glower, hands fisted. “You did that shit on purpose.”

Gideon shrugged. “I always get what I want, André. Now, let me show you to your room. I had it prepared for you while we were talking in my office.” He started walking.

André didn’t move. “Wait, what?” He’d only just now decided to stay.

“Like I said…” Gideon glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “I always get what I want.”

Gideon took a deep breath as his pilot touched the helicopter down on the roof of the prison. Visiting a place like this wasn’t high on the list of things he wanted to do, but—like everything he did—it was a necessity.

He waited for Samir and Will to exit the chopper first, then Samir opened the door for him and Gideon stepped out, buttoning his jacket, eyeing the three men waiting for them. At just after two a.m. on a Tuesday morning, this wasn’t your typical visit. But he hadn’t met a person yet, man or woman, who would say no to him.

Actually, no, he had.

He gritted his teeth when he thought about André, shoving the man back into the recesses of his mind. Now wasn’t the time.

“Mister Winters.” John Barrows, the prison’s warden, approached him with an outstretched hand. “Welcome, sir.” There were only two other men with him, but Gideon ignored them. He ignored Barrows’s hand too, jerking his chin toward the building.

“Everything set?”

Barrows lowered his hand and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He was a hulking presence, towering over Gideon in his wrinkled black suit. He had a receding hairline, his dark brown skin dull, eyes bloodshot, looking way older than his sixty-two years. Gideon imagined it was the stuff of nightmares, trying to run a prison that housed some of the worst of humanity.

“Lead the way,” he instructed Barrows, and the man did.

Gideon kept pace with him, his people and Barrows’s a step behind as they entered the prison through a secret entrance. Their footsteps echoed on scratched but shiny floors as they made their way through winding corridors. They must’ve walked for about ten minutes before Barrows stopped at a door. He opened it with a key, and Samir entered alone first, gun in hand while Gideon waited outside.

When Samir came back out, meeting his gaze before stepping aside, Gideon entered the room.

It was small, with dark carpet and no windows, smelling of something hot and stale that turned Gideon’s stomach. A man waited for him, seated in one of two chairs in the room with his back to Gideon, gray head bowed, clad in prison garb.

Gideon glanced over his shoulder and nodded to Samir, who pulled the door closed, leaving Gideon alone with the man waiting for him. He didn’t lift his head until Gideon stood in front of him, waiting in silence. And when he did look up, he smiled, brown eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“You know who I am?” Gideon asked him.

"Even in here, you can’t escape news about the prodigal son who returned from the dead.”

Lips twitching, Gideon sank into the chair opposite him and leaned back, crossing his ankles as he met the other man's eyes. He’d been a kid the last time he’d seen Warren Choi. To the child Gideon had been back then, Warren had seemed untouchable. He’d worn his wealth and power like armor. Protected. Someone who could never be brought down from his soaring heights. Much like Gideon’s own father. Now, his father was dead and Warren was caged.

Funny how things changed.

It’d taken a few days to set up this meeting once Ree finally answered her father’s call and reported it to Samir. Warren had to be secretly transported to this prison for the meeting since he was housed out of state. The logistics involved a whole lot of money changing hands.

“Do you have what I came for?” he asked Warren.

Warren nodded at the question but didn’t say anything else.

“You want something in return.” Gideon didn’t phrase it as a question because it wasn’t.

Warren cocked his head. “You know, Aldo and I thought for sure you and Rebecca would grow up and marry each other.” He chuckled. “You were each other’s shadow from the moment you met.”

Gideon didn’t speak, nor did he give Warren any indication that the words meant anything to him. Because they didn’t. He’d been an innocent boy then. He was neither of those things now. So he just sat back as Warren kept talking.

“She hates me, you know. Rebecca. Ree.” Warren rubbed his jaw with the hand that wasn’t handcuffed to the back of his chair. “She blames me for her mother. For all of it.”

He did have a part to play in why he was in his current position, but Warren already knew that, so Gideon didn’t bother pointing it out.

“The other day was the first time she spoke to me in years and that was because of you.” Warren swallowed, voice rough when he said, “Thank you for that.”

There was more. Gideon waited.

“I want you to make her talk to me.” Warren’s gaze sharpened on Gideon’s face. “You can do that.”

He could do anything. Gideon wasn’t about to do that, though. Still, he nodded and got to his feet. “Anything else?”

Warren remained seated, gazing up at him with a gleam in his eye. “I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something. I’ll reach out when I do.”

Gideon held his stare. He still didn’t have what he’d come for.

“Paul Traeger. That’s the name of the man who hired the assassins to kill you.”

Gideon inhaled deeply. The second attempt on his life—after they’d taken his mother, they’d tried again. His father had suspected that whoever made the second attempt was not responsible for the first. Gideon didn’t know how or why Aldo thought that, but they’d run with it, hunting two different sets of assassins.

And Aldo’s hunch had paid off, it seemed. It made Gideon smile, the idea that his father was rarely ever wrong.

“I don’t know where he is now or if he’s even alive. He’s been MIA for nearly as many years as you’ve been dead.” Warren smirked at his weak attempt at being funny. “But find him and you’ll most likely find the person on The Council who set the entire thing in motion.”

Gideon nodded, blowing out a breath. “Thank you, Warren.”

“I did my part,” Warren told him. “Now, it’s time to do yours.”

“It is,” Gideon answered gravely. And he pulled the Glock from his waistband and put a bullet between Warren’s eyes. The others had to have heard the gunshot but nobody came in. Gideon stared down at Warren, at his head thrown back, eyes still open but sightless.

He’d been a chess piece, set up and put in place by Gideon’s father with the promise of freedom if Warren played his part and did as instructed. His only job had been to get close to one man inside the prison where he’d been sent to serve out his sentence, to become his best friend, his confidant…hell, his lover if need be. Then pump him for information. He’d done that, but Gideon no longer needed him, and what little Warren did know was already too much. Gideon wasn’t about to keep anybody alive who could hurt him and his plans in any way. Warren was always going to die, but he’d sped up the process by demanding things.

Shoving his gun back into his waistband, Gideon went to the door and pulled it open, meeting the warden’s gaze. Barrows didn’t like what was happening, but he couldn’t do shit to change it. “I’m done here.” Gideon nodded to Samir and Will. “Let’s move.” He walked away without a backward glance, leaving Barrow and his people to handle Warren’s body.

In no time, he was in the chopper and headed back to his penthouse. He stared unseeing out the window. He had a name now. He’d already texted Marco, who’d remained at the penthouse with Kaleb and a dozen others watching over André and his sister. Marco would get to work on finding Paul Traeger.

In the meantime, Gideon would try to get some sleep.

The operative word being try.

But as he walked into his office, flanked by Samir and Will, Samir turned to him, lips twitching as if he were trying not to smile.

“What?” Gideon demanded.

Samir glanced down at his phone. “Kaleb says our guests are still up, watching a movie in the media room.”

Gideon had done so well not thinking about André with that stubborn gleam in eyes that reminded him of his enemy. “What does that have to do with me?”

“The girl heard the chopper. She wants to know if you’ll join them.”

Gideon frowned, glancing at his watch. “It’s almost four in the fucking morning.”

Will chuckled. Samir just walked away, but not before smirking at Gideon.

“Sounds like you’re her new favorite person,” Will teased before she too left, leaving Gideon standing alone in the middle of his office.

His plan for keeping André and Juliette close was so that he could use them to get to Ennis. Use André. Nothing in that plan included getting close to Juliette, whose eyes lit up every time they landed on Gideon.

But Juliette was the key to getting André under control.

So, despite the tiredness battering him and his gritty eyes, Gideon made his way down to the media room. They were on the couch, on either end. Juliette looked as alert as if it were four in the afternoon, eyes on the screen. André, on the other hand, his eyes were closed, hands folded atop his belly as he lay sprawled out on his back.

Juliette spotted Gideon first as he stood in the doorway. “Gideon!” She waved him in.

André’s eyes opened. He did not look happy. Likely still carrying a grudge from earlier.

“Come watch a movie with us.”

“Why aren’t you asleep, Miss Juliette?”

She shrugged. “Couldn’t fall asleep, so Dré said we should watch a movie.” She gazed up at him, light from the movie playing across her face. “Where’d you go? That was you in the helicopter that landed on the roof, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, I had to take care of some business.” The couch was wide and long enough that he took a seat between her and André, who still hadn’t spoken, shaking his head when Juliette offered him popcorn. The bowl was nearly empty. “I’m not staying. I just wanted to check on you.” He lifted his gaze to André, then back to Juliette. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” Leaning toward him, she lowered her tone. “Stay for a little bit?”

“Sure.”

Somehow Gideon ended up accepting popcorn the next time Juliette pushed the bowl his way, watching some kind of spy movie all while ignoring André’s sullen, heavy gaze. He leaned his head back, allowing the tension to drain from his shoulders.

In the middle of a loud car chase on screen, he closed his eyes.

Just for a little while, then he’d leave.

Only for a little while.

7

Something was pressed against his thigh.

André came awake slowly, taking a deep breath. His back ached, and his neck too. He blinked his eyes open, lifting both arms to stretch. Then he glanced down his body and froze.

He was still in Gideon Winters’s insane home theater. On the couch. And Gideon was asleep next to him. His head on André’s thigh.

What the⁠—

He cast about, looking for Jules, who’d been with them before he fell asleep, but didn’t see her. He didn’t see any of Gideon’s people either. And here André was, thinking Gideon didn’t do anything or go anywhere without his armed guards.

But that didn’t matter because Gideon Winters was fucking sleeping on him. Head turned to face the back of the couch, features serene—something André didn’t think he’d ever see on the other man. His dark blond hair was rumpled. But he looked like he was sleeping deeply and André didn’t want to wake him. But how was he supposed to get away from this position? God knew he didn’t want Gideon to open his eyes and find them like that.

André’s belly cramped at the mere thought.

It was bad enough he’d been forced to stay in the man’s house; he wanted as little to do with Gideon as possible. He’d tried to talk Jules out of inviting Gideon to join them for the movie last night, but his sister was just as stubborn as he was, if not more. She’d taken a liking to Gideon, and André couldn’t talk her out of it.

He just wanted to get the hell out of there already.

He wanted to know when they’d be able to go home, but more than that, he needed Jules to be safe, and unfortunately, Gideon was right. This fortress of his was the safest at the moment.

André didn’t have to like it though.

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared down at a sleeping Gideon, trying to figure out how they even ended up in this position in the first place. And how was he supposed to get out of it without waking Gideon? Because the other man appeared to need his rest. In the very short time André had been there, he’d already seen that Gideon was always on the go.

Like a man on a mission.

Did that mission involve André’s father and whatever plans Gideon had for him? Plans that included André?

André needed to know about that, and he would question Gideon. But first things first, he had to get out of there.

He angled his hips, holding his breath as he tried inching out from under Gideon’s body.

But Gideon’s head jerked up, his gaze zeroing in on André, eyes alert as if he hadn’t just been dead asleep. If he was surprised at their position, he didn’t show it, nor did he move.

“André.”

Well. It should be illegal for somebody to sound like that. His voice was sleep-hoarse, rough. Husky. Probably the sexiest thing André had ever heard. Not that he had much experience.

He swallowed. “Gideon.”

“Good morning.” When André didn’t respond, Gideon’s lips quirked. “Is it not a good morning?”

“You’re on top of me.” André pointed it out as if the other man didn’t know. He wanted to close his eyes at his stupidity but managed somehow to maintain eye contact with Gideon.

He looked as if he was always on, this guy. The only thing out of place on him, as far as André could see, was his hair that was sticking up a bit. André's fingers twitched at the urge to smooth it down.

The fuck was wrong with him?

“I must've fallen asleep while watching the movie last night,” Gideon murmured. “Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Well, you’re up now, so if you could just…” André made a shooing motion with his hands and Gideon’s eyes mocked him.

Something about his face, about how close he was to that part of André—his morning wood—had him on high alert, had his heart beating, and his groin… Don’t think about it. But he couldn’t ignore the heat of Gideon’s body, warming him through their clothes.

“Is this uncomfortable for you?” Gideon lifted an eyebrow, the smirk on his face telling André he already knew the answer to that question.

“It’s too early for me to be dealing with you and your bullshit.” André scrubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t you have something much more important to do than to be here, fucking with me?”

Something dark smoldered in Gideon’s eyes. “No.”

André’s pulse sped up. What⁠—

“Dré, you’re up!” Juliette wheeled into the room. “Come to breakfast. The chef made pancakes.” Why was she so excited about pancakes? “Gideon, will you have breakfast with us?”

Okay, he would have to talk to Jules about the crush she had on Gideon. It couldn’t continue. Gideon sat up, taking his weight off André—finally, and no, he didn’t miss it—smiling at Jules.

“Good morning, Miss Juliette. You’re looking well rested.”

André rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile when his sister blushed and ducked her head.

“Will you have breakfast with us?” Jules asked again.

“Jules, I’m sure Gideon has way more important things to do than waste time with us.”

Jules’s face fell.

Gideon got to his feet, lifting both arms over his head. André took in the flex of his muscles, then abruptly looked away, heat washing over his face.

“I do have some things to do.” Gideon turned that charm on Jules again. “But I would like nothing more than to join you for breakfast.” He glanced at André and must have seen the promise of murder in his eyes because Gideon threw him a wink, then walked off. “I’ll see you both at breakfast.”

Fuck. Him.

If André thought for a minute he’d get away with punching Gideon in the face, he just might. He knew what Gideon was doing, getting close to Jules. Using her as leverage against André. Because he’d already sussed out that Jules was the only person in the world André cared about.

He’d do anything for her, even share pancakes with Gideon fucking Winters.

He forced a smile for Jules when she beamed at him, getting to his feet and pulling her into a hug, kissing her temple. Together, they left the movie theater and Jules made her way to the kitchen—she already knew the layout of the entire goddamn place—and he went to his room to brush his teeth and change clothes. The day before, he’d placed a call to the school where he worked as a substitute teacher—also the same school Jules attended—telling them he had a family emergency and that he and Jules would be out of town indefinitely.

By the time he made his way down to the kitchen, he was frustrated at himself and angry at Gideon. Still, he took a deep breath and entered the room. Jules and Gideon—who’d also changed his clothes—sat at a table while some other folks bustled about the kitchen. This place felt way homier than the fancy dining room Gideon had next door. A room that was damn near as large as André and Jules’s entire home. But the kitchen was cozier, still fucking gorgeous like the rest of the place, but it didn’t have that museum, don’t touch nothing air.

Juliette waved at him and he joined them, pointedly ignoring Gideon.

An older woman appeared, pouring coffee into a cup at André’s elbow. He smiled his thanks.

“Dré, that’s Phyllis,” Jules told him. “And the man making our pancakes is Chef Chris. Sonia is his assistant. Everyone, this is my big brother, André.”

He nodded a greeting. How Jules came to know all of them, he didn’t know and didn’t bother asking. But clearly, she’d made herself at home. When she wasn’t looking, he glanced at Gideon and found his eyes on him. André narrowed his gaze, hoping the other man saw and understood his displeasure.

He must have, but all Gideon did was smirk in that way of his that made André want to punch him.

Or kiss him.

No, not that.

He kept his mouth shut and looked away, focusing on anything else but Gideon, sending up a prayer of gratitude when heaps of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fruit were piled onto the table. He focused on eating while Jules asked Gideon a whole bunch of questions that he answered quite patiently. Grudgingly, André admitted to himself that he appreciated the fact that Gideon didn’t treat Jules any differently because of the wheelchair.

“Right, Dré?”

He blinked, chewing on crunchy bacon as he looked up to find both sets of eyes on him. “Hmm?”

“Gideon said we could take a ride in his helicopter. That would be fun, right?”

“Oh no.” He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s⁠—”

“Gideon!” A woman entered the room with tears streaming down her face, two of Gideon’s people following closely on her heels.

“Ree.” Gideon shot to his feet and went to her. She barreled into his arms, almost knocking him back a step. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s died,” she sobbed into Gideon’s chest. “My father is dead.”

Gideon met Samir’s eyes over the top of Ree’s head. Warren Choi was always meant to die, but he hadn’t anticipated Ree coming to him for comfort.

Still, the fact that he’d been the one to kill her father wasn’t the thing that had Gideon’s arms wrapped loosely around Ree’s shaking shoulders as she sobbed into his chest, wetting his shirt.

He felt eyes on him, André’s eyes, and for some unknown and unwelcome reason, Gideon didn’t want his house guest witnessing what was happening.

He brushed a kiss to the top of Ree’s head, murmuring, “I’m so sorry,” before he took a step back. He wasn’t sorry Warren was dead. Again, he deserved that shit. But despite the relationship between Ree and her father, she’d loved him, and Gideon knew all too fucking well the pain of losing a parent.

So, he was sorry for that pain. The pain he’d had no choice but to inflict on Ree.

He cast a glance over to where André and his sister sat at the table, their breakfast forgotten as they watched everything unfold.

He met André's eyes for the briefest moment and did not like what he saw there. “Ree, these are my guests, André and his sister, Juliette. This is Ree.”

Jules waved at Ree, who was frantically wiping her face, while André gave her a small nod before lowering his gaze to his plate.

“Come with me.” Gideon turned his attention back to Ree, taking her hand and leading her out of the room. He brought her to his office, just the two of them, and she collapsed against his chest.

“Ree.”

“How could this happen?” The tears had stopped flowing and anger pushed past the grief in her voice. “I don’t even know what happened. All they’ll tell me is that he died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” She shook her head, pushing away from him. Red-rimmed eyes met his as she squared her shoulders. “Just days after I accept my father’s prison call for the first time and deliver a coded message to you, he’s dead.” She held his gaze. “Why is that, Gideon?”

He had to fight to keep his lips from twitching at the fire in her. “Ree, if you have something you need to ask, just spit it out.”

“Did you kill my father?”

“Yes."

Her eyes bulged, color draining from her face. She hadn’t expected that response, even though she’d been suspicious enough to ask the question. Gideon smiled at her gently. “There are things happening that are beyond your understanding. I won’t apologize for what needed to be done.”

Her mouth opened and closed rapidly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Guess she hadn’t truly been prepared for the truth.

“I helped you kill my father?” She touched a trembling hand to her chest, clutching her t-shirt in her fist. “Why-why— I helped you. How⁠—”

He cut her off as her voice rose. “There’s nothing for you to feel guilty about, Ree. Warren was a scumbag and a traitor.”

“He was my father!” She exploded on him, fists beating at his chest. “My father! And you used me to murder him?” Her voice broke and her legs buckled.

Gideon wrapped his arms around her to keep her from crashing to the floor on her knees, but she yanked away from him, putting distance between them, facing him with a hand on her heaving chest, lips trembling.

“You’re a monster.”

Gideon cocked his head.

“I thought you were different, but⁠—”

“Why would you think that, Ree?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You only knew the boy I once was, not the man I am now. Why would you think I’d be different? Different compared to what?”

She didn’t answer, but if her wet, flashing eyes were weapons, he’d already be on the floor bleeding out. Gideon didn’t care. He couldn’t. He hadn’t crawled his way back from the shadows to be liked. He stood where he was now because he was on a mission to regain his identity and all that was stolen from him by any means necessary.

Collateral damage was a given.

“You’re a monster.” The repeated words trembled from her lips, low and tortured as a knock came on the office door.

Gideon closed the distance between them, swiping her wet cheek with the pad of a finger. “I am, but so was your father. So dry your tears, he never did deserve that shit.” He glanced up as the door opened and Samir and Kaleb walked in. “Kaleb is gonna take you⁠—”

“So I can be killed as well?” she spat. “I'm not going anywhere with any of your people.”

“Ree.” Gideon brushed a thumb across her jaw, smiling at the hatred sparkling in her eyes. She made him feel nostalgic. “If I wanted you dead, your sister would already be planning your funeral. Now please, you don’t have a choice. Go with Kaleb.” He stared into her eyes, watching the reality and gravity of her situation fully sink in. He saw, too, the moment she surrendered. Satisfied, Gideon nodded to Kaleb, who escorted a visibly defeated Ree out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, Samir spoke.

“Ennis Canto called a meeting.”

Gideon turned to him. “Called a meeting with who?” Couldn’t be with Gideon. The other members of The Council knew better than to summon him.

“Prislaya Chopra.”

Ah, The Council’s very own sadist. “When and where?” Before he’d even stepped out of the shadows, before his father took his last breath, they’d positioned spies in the organizations of all members of The Council. One of the best strategic moves they’d ever made, in Gideon’s opinion.

“Tonight. Washington.”

“Hmm.” Gideon walked over to the bar at the other end of the office and poured himself a shot of whisky, tossing it back before pouring another. This one he nursed, staring into the swirling liquid as if it were tea leaves he could read. “What do you think they’ll be discussing?”

Samir chuckled, coming to stand next to him as they stared out the large window overlooking the city together. “Your demise if I had to guess.”

His demise. “To my demise.” Gideon held up the glass, toasting before tossing it back. “Get the jet ready, we’ve got a meeting to crash.”

An hour later, as he exited his office on the way up to the helipad—he’d be taking the helicopter to the airfield where his private jet was fueled and waiting for him—Juliette approached him.

“Gideon!”

“Miss Juliette.” Something about her always made him smile. Her eyes were always so wide and full of joy. There was nothing hidden about her—everything showed on her face. Right now she was happy to see him. He hadn’t seen her or her brother since breakfast but he already knew André was never happy to see him.

“I was wondering if you— Are you leaving?”

She sounded disappointed. “I am, yes. I have an out-of-town meeting I can’t miss.”

“Oh.” She lowered her gaze, shoulders slumping.

“Hey.” He lifted her chin with two fingers. “What’s up?”

“I thought we could watch a movie again,” she said in a rush. “Last night you and Dré fell asleep, so we didn’t get to watch the movie so I thought we could have a do-over with snacks and stuff?” Her voice went up an octave at the end. “Also, can I maybe invite my girlfriend over? I miss her, but also she’s kinda jealous that I get to stay with you.” She blushed when she said that part, and Gideon couldn’t help the chuckle.

“You can tell your girlfriend she has nothing to worry about.” He winked at her just as André appeared out of nowhere to stand behind his sister and glower at Gideon. “We can have a redo on the movie, but I don’t know when I’ll be back, so maybe in a day or so?” He took a deep breath, holding André’s gaze. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to say no visitors for now, but we can revisit that at a later date,” he said quickly when Juliette’s expression fell. “How’s that?”

She nodded, clearly disappointed. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Juliette.” He got a small smile from her as she wheeled herself away. Her brother didn’t move though. He waited until his sister was out of sight before speaking.

“Why can’t she have her friend over? Are we hostages?”

Something about him antagonized Gideon, always putting him on the defensive. “Do you think you’re a hostage, André?”

“If we can’t leave and people can’t visit us? Yes.”

“Hmm.” Gideon moved closer to him. It was like he couldn’t help it. He was being pulled closer by the anger and distrust in André’s eyes. “There are people out there who clearly want to hurt you and your sister,” he murmured when he got close enough to smell André’s subtle cologne. To feel the heat emanating from his skin. “You want to lead them straight here?”

André’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak for a few moments, as if he were rethinking what to say. Gideon found himself staring at those lips, his entire body tense as he waited for them to move. Wondering about their taste and texture. His belly tightened. So did the area much lower.

Fuck.

“What do you know about who’s after us?” André asked finally.

Gideon’s gaze jumped to the other man’s only to find André focused on his mouth. Well, shit. It took a while for Gideon to make his throat work. “I’m on my way to find out now.” He turned away, suddenly breathless. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wait.”

And he did. With his back to André, he waited.

“The girl, your…friend from earlier.”

The significant pause before André finished his question made Gideon turn back to him. “Her name is Ree. A childhood friend.” Although, why he was explaining anything, he couldn’t really say.

“Right.” Didn’t sound as if André appreciated or believed the explanation. “Is she okay?”

“Her father died.”

“Shit. I-I’m sorry.”

Gideon shrugged as he turned around. “Don’t be. I killed him.” He didn’t stick around to see André’s reaction.

8

Honestly, it didn’t faze Gideon much to be listening to two members of The Council plot his death as he sat inside an SUV parked just outside their secret meeting location.

“He cannot be allowed to come in and take over.” Prislaya Chopra sounded as if she really hated him, as if he’d offended her personally. The notion made Gideon swallow a laugh.

She’d hated his father just as much, if he recalled his father’s stories correctly.

“There’s nothing we can do right now,” Ennis Canto told her. His voice was low, steady, in direct opposition to the hatred that colored Prislaya’s words. Gideon had yet to see or hear Canto get riled up. “If we make a move at this time, we risk alienating some of our allies.”

“They should be here with us!” Prislaya hissed. “You and I can’t be the only ones who want that smug bastard to go back to wherever he’d been hiding for the past however many years. In a body bag.”

Gideon chuckled as he shifted in his seat. They’d been in the SUV for almost two hours, an hour earlier than the designated meeting time for the two council members casually discussing his impending demise. His ass hurt and he was hungry. Plus, he wanted to get the fuck back to his place already.

To see André. That part he refused to acknowledge. He couldn’t possibly want to see André when he knew André didn’t want to see him. André hated him, maybe even more now since Gideon had confessed to killing Ree’s father before disappearing like a goddamn coward. He’d raced out of the penthouse without looking back. He didn’t want to see the fear and disgust in André’s eyes.

What did it matter?

He couldn’t answer that, but he also couldn’t help it that he’d spent damn near all the time on the jet staring at his phone, wanting to text André. Like a fucking weakling.

He cleared his throat, focusing on the voices blaring through the SUV’s speakers from the mic’d up drone—operated by one of the tech guys in the second SUV parked behind them—that hovered just outside the windows of the building across the street. It was a quaint little red and white church sitting on the corner of a quiet street in a tiny town just outside Washington.

He’d brought Samir and Will with him. He never went anywhere without Samir, and Will pulled the short straw this time, while Marco and Kaleb stayed behind to watch over André and his sister. Along with the tech guys, there were another four bodyguards in the second SUV.

“We have to be careful,” Ennis warned again. “Any move we make on Winters must be foolproof. Besides, he’s expecting us to act.”

“Then why disappoint him?” Prislaya challenged.

“I think I might like her,” Gideon murmured. “If only she wasn’t trying to kill me.”

Next to him, Will snorted. “Yeah, if only.”

“I say we call a meeting within the next few days,” Prislaya continued. “We put this to a vote. The majority will side with us. They will sanction his death.”

“Hmm.” Samir cocked his head. “Why do you think she’s got such a hard-on for you?”

“Dunno.” Gideon shrugged. “But why don’t I go and find out?”

“Whoa!” Will held out a hand to stop Gideon when he reached for the door handle. “We didn’t okay you going in there.”

Gideon glanced from her to Samir. “Well, what are you waiting for? Okay it, then, because I’m going in there.”

“G.” Samir shook his head. “Now is not the time to show our hand.”

“We’re not showing our hand. Members of The Council called a meeting. I have a right, as The Council’s treasurer and figurehead, to be included.” He wanted to see how brave Prislaya Chopra and Ennis Canto would be, if they’d say the things to him that they just said to each other.

So far, they’d been hiding. What would they do when faced with him in the flesh? Suddenly, that was all he wanted to know.

“Their men are right outside the door. You won’t get past them.” Will pointed to where four men stood at the entrance to the church, clad in black, silent sentries waiting for their respective masters to exit the building.

“So handle them,” Gideon told her. “I’ll be here waiting when you’re done.”

She rolled her eyes but turned to Samir with a raised eyebrow. It didn’t bother him that she sought approval and permission from Samir since he was her immediate boss, mentor, and head of security. If he vetoed it, then it wasn’t happening. But, eyes narrowed on Gideon, Samir nodded, and Will slunk out of the vehicle, blending into the shadows.

Gideon didn’t bother watching her. Will was a beast and could handle the four men out there with ease and without breaking a sweat. He focused on Samir instead, on the question in his friend’s eyes. “What?”

“What’s going on in your head?”

Gideon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re distracted and spoiling for a fight. Why?”

“How do you figure?”

“Does it have something to do with our guest back at the penthouse?”

Gideon’s lips parted, ready to issue a full-throated denial. He wasn’t distracted. And even if he was, why would Samir think André would be the cause? “I’m not distracted.” That didn’t sound as confident as he would have wanted it to. “André is just a means to an end. Once he’s fulfilled his purpose, I’ll get rid of him.”

Samir’s lips twitched. “I was referring to Ree…”

Fuck.

“But you just proved my point.”

Gideon scowled at him. “Oh, fuck off.”

Samir laughed softly as the back passenger-side door opened and Will poked her head in. “You’re all clear.”

“That was fast,” Gideon said.

She shrugged, holstering her gun. “Bullets usually are.” She stood aside as he exited. Samir did the same and when they stood on either side of him, Gideon tugged lightly on Will’s ponytail. She swatted his hand away.

“Let’s go.”

They stepped over the bodies of the men Will had killed and entered the church. Samir first. Then Will.

Gideon entered after them to find Prislaya and Ennis standing shoulder to shoulder up at the front of the church, facing him. The door banged closed behind Gideon, echoing in the silence.

“You!” Prislaya gasped, animosity a living thing on her features, in her eyes.

If Ennis was surprised to see Gideon, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, expression smooth and unaffected as Gideon approached.

“Oh, I thought this was a council meeting…” Gideon glanced around, an exaggerated move. “But I don’t see any of the other members. Shouldn’t they all be here when you plot my death?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“You should be dead.” At this point, he suspected Prislaya just liked hearing herself talk. “It’s a death sentence for anyone stupid enough to impersonate a council member.”

Still harping on that, was she? It was all bluster on her part since he’d already complied with the blood test they’d demanded of him, to ensure he was his father’s son. It would have offended him, but Aldo had already told him they would ask for it.

“You wanted me dead, so here I am.” He addressed Prislaya but held Ennis’s gaze. “Once again, I’m doing your dirty work for you, but don’t let that stop you. Do what you gotta do.”

Ennis didn’t move, but Prislaya shifted closer, taking a step.

Gideon pulled the gun from his waist and pointed it at her, pulling the trigger without even flicking a gaze in her direction. Nobody flinched when her body hit the floor, though he caught the quick flare of surprise in Ennis’s eyes before the older man masked it.

“What about you?” Gideon asked him softly. “Ready to make your move?”

“You’ll know when I am,” Ennis said, tone bored.

He’d make a worthy opponent. If Gideon were someone else, he’d be wary about going up against Ennis, but he was in a fight for his life. And he loved breathing way too much. Anyone who came up against him had to die.

Didn’t matter who.

Ennis didn’t know Gideon had André, and he wouldn’t find out, not yet. That was one card Gideon was keeping close to the vest. For now, he grinned at Ennis.

“Looks like you’ll be needing another partner to plot with. Might I suggest Joseph Morrow next?” He turned away, Will and Samir sliding behind him. “I’ve got plans for him.” He had plans for all of them, including the man who kept quiet as Gideon and his bodyguards exited the church, once more stepping over dead bodies.

He was leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake, but that was what it took.

The final body would be Ennis Canto’s.

And Gideon couldn’t wait.

“Got some news.” Kaleb greeted Gideon loudly over the noise of the chopper blades as Gideon climbed out of the aircraft.

Gideon bit back a sigh. He’d just landed after returning to the penthouse from crashing that meeting between Ennis Canto and Prislaya Chopra. He glanced at his watch, then gestured for Kaleb to walk with him as they made their way into the building, Samir and Will at his back.

“Is it about Traeger?” He’d tasked his team with finding whoever the Traeger person was that Warren Choi had told him about and so far it’d been radio silence in that regard.

It was 8:02 in the morning. He wanted a shower, a coffee, and some food. Most importantly, he wanted some goddamn sleep. But likely that would have to wait. The group of them didn’t speak, their footsteps the only sound as they got into the elevator taking them from the roof of the building, down into the actual apartment. There, Gideon led the way to his office, where Marco sat waiting for them.

Gideon nodded at him in greeting as Samir closed the door.

“No. We haven’t found anything on Traeger yet.”

Fuck. “What is it then?” Unbuttoning his jacket, Gideon removed it and tossed it onto a nearby couch, sinking into the chair behind his desk as he swiped a hand over his face. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep. He’d been looking forward to some shut-eye.

“Somebody reported André and his sister missing.”

Gideon jerked his head up. “What?” All he’d heard was André's name and his stomach immediately tightened, the way it automatically did whenever he thought about the other man. Where was he anyway? Likely still sleeping. How did he sleep? Naked? Gideon would pay good money to⁠—

“Yesterday evening, a man walked into the local precinct and reported André and Juliette missing,” Kaleb repeated. “Told the cops he feared for their safety.”

Gideon stood and walked around the desk, taking the iPad from Kaleb’s grip and reading the file there. The report had been made by Ty Levins, a concerned friend. “Who the fuck is Ty Levins?”

Reaching over Gideon’s shoulder, Kaleb swiped across the iPad screen and a DMV photo popped up. Ty Levins: twenty-five, brown skin and piercing gray eyes, bald head, and high cheekbones. He was gorgeous. Gideon hated him on sight.

“Did some digging,” Kaleb told him. “Seems he and André were a thing, but other than that, he’s clean. The report says he called André a few times and got no answer, so he went over to his apartment but has been unable to connect with André.”

They were a thing? As in past tense or were they still a thing? “Dig deeper,” he told Kaleb without looking away from the device screen. “I want to know every fucking thing there is to know about him.” Just in case he’d be a nuisance and cause problems for the plan, of course.

“Got it.” Kaleb nodded.

“Ennis Canto called a meeting with The Council.” Samir steered them to other business as he glanced up from his phone. “The request just appeared.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “No doubt he’s running to tattle on me for killing Prislaya.” But the joke was on Canto. It was against council code to be caught actively plotting another member’s death. Oh, they could plot against each other, and kill each other, they just had to keep that shit secret. The moment you were found out was the moment you lost your seat and secured yourself a death sentence.

Gideon acted well within his rights as council head by dealing with Prislaya. Which Ennis very well knew. What the hell is that motherfucker up to?

“The next move is Ennis’s, so let’s see what he does.” Whatever he did, Gideon would counter a thousand times heavier. He glanced at the others. “Anything else?” When they shook their heads, he headed for the door. “Good. I need a shower and some rest. Play amongst yourself while I’m gone.” He left them in there, but Samir joined him, grabbing Gideon’s shoulder as he turned toward the stairs leading to his bedroom.

“Hey. What’s going on with you?”

Gideon lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Samir stopped walking, folding his arms across his chest. Gideon halted as well.

“This André thing has you distracted.”

“I’m not distracted.”

Samir’s expression said he didn’t buy that at all, but all he did was nod once. “Just checking. I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake.”

Gideon eyed him coolly. “No, you don’t.” He spun on his heel, leaving Samir standing in the hallway as he made his way upstairs. He wasn’t distracted, and certainly not by André. The other man was a means to an end. A weapon, cocked and loaded, to be used at the most appropriate time. Gideon would never forget his mission. Never forget his purpose and the reason behind every move he made. Samir was out of his mind if he thought anything or anyone could distract Gideon from his goals.

That was what he told himself…until he glanced up and realized he stood in front of André’s bedroom door.

Well, fuck.

He glanced over his shoulder quickly to ensure no one was around because wouldn’t it be just his luck to have Samir witness this brief moment of weakness right after Gideon denied it? He stood staring at the door with his hands shoved into his pockets, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was tired, just like he’d told the others. He needed to sleep.

But he wanted to see André more, wanted to see if André was scared of him now that he knew Gideon was a killer. If he still hated Gideon for keeping him and his sister at the penthouse. If he was still gonna keep pretending that he didn’t like looking at Gideon the way Gideon liked looking at him.

He pounded on the door, harder than he’d intended to, cursing himself all the while. He shouldn’t be there. Shouldn’t do anything⁠—

The door opened and André stood there, looking adorably rumpled and more than a little annoyed in an old gray t-shirt and matching pants. Guess that answered the question of whether or not he slept naked. Gideon had woken him up, it appeared. Because his eyes were still heavy with sleep, slightly red, and they widened comically when they landed on Gideon.

“What do you want?” Sleep weighed his voice down and turned it into something Gideon wanted to strip naked and roll around in.

Goddamn it, his dick was hard. “Who is Ty Levins?” And fuck, he hadn’t meant to ask that.

André’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Invite me in.” Because he didn’t want to stand out there in the hallway and give Samir or any of the others more to be concerned about.

“What?” André blinked. “No.”

Ignoring him, Gideon pushed past him and entered the bedroom, inhaling deeply. The room was warm and neatly arranged, and a hint of André’s cologne lingered in the air. Gideon's dick got harder still.

“Hey.” The door closed as André grabbed Gideon by the arm, halting his progress farther into the room. “You can’t barge in here just because it’s your place.”

Gideon grinned. “Why not?” Was it wrong to find it sexy the way André glared at him? His twitching dick said no.

André’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and Gideon’s grin only got wider. He loved seeing the other man flustered. “Uh, because I’m staying here.”

“Hmm.” Head cocked, Gideon reminded him, “You haven’t answered my question.”

“What’s the question?”

Getting up into his space, Gideon took note of the way André’s body stiffened and his nostrils flared. The pulse at the base of his throat went wild, and that sight, more than anything else, weakened Gideon’s knees. “Ty Levins,” he murmured. “Who is he?”

“Um.” André’s tongue poked out, sliding over his bottom lip and wetting it.

Gideon bit back a groan.

“Why do you always smell so good?” André’s voice cracked the tiniest bit. “So expensive?”

Fuck, this guy was going to kill Gideon for sure. “You like the way I smell?”

Panic chased lust across André’s features. He swallowed, holding Gideon’s gaze with dilated pupils, but he didn’t speak. What he did do was lick his lips again.

Gideon could fucking combust. He moved in closer. A hitch in André’s breath reached Gideon’s ears and it fired up the blood in his veins. His gaze dropped to those lips, glistening with André’s saliva, his dick begging for mercy. Gideon didn’t have to look down to check if André was also turned on. The signs were there, all visible. André wasn’t looking at Gideon with frustrated hatred anymore. Frustrated lust, yes. Need, yes. Slight panic? That too.

Gideon touched André’s cheek, loving the way the other man’s lashes fluttered, then lowered in submission. Rubbing his knuckles across André’s jaw, Gideon leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I want to kiss you.”

André’s body jerked and he made a sound like a whimper. “Why?”

Why? Gideon swallowed a strained chuckle. Definitely something the stubborn André would ask. “Because I want to know your taste.”

“I haven’t—I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Cupping his jaw, Gideon brushed his lips over André’s. They trembled for him, and Gideon’s grip on him tightened. “I want to know your taste,” he said again. “Grant me permission, André.”

He felt the capitulation in the way André’s body sagged into his. In the hands that landed, tentatively, on Gideon’s hips. In the lips that parted under his.

Then André breathed out, “Kiss me.”

9

André had seen those weather forecasters on TV, reporting from hurricanes, staggering, feet dragging, teetering, and falling over under the force of the wind and rain battering them as they filed their reports.

That was what Gideon Winters was: a force.

He knocked André off his feet with a press of his lips. They were barely connected, lips clinging, and still, André couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t find balance. His lips parted on a gulp and Gideon took advantage—that was the kind of man he was, after all—tongue sliding in and twisting around André’s.

He whimpered, couldn’t help it, grasping Gideon’s shoulders. Silently begging. He hadn’t expected this when he’d opened his door, angry at whoever had woken him up from his sleep.

But Gideon…

He deepened the kiss and André let him because he wanted to, had imagined it while lying in that bed, hating himself for how much he didn’t hate Gideon. But his imagination had nothing on this moment, Gideon’s arms finally wrapping around him, hauling him into the hardness of his chest. André pressed closer still, shivers racking his body. He couldn’t remember ever being as hard as he was now.

Gideon kissed hungrily, desperately, as if trying to stamp himself onto André’s taste buds permanently. André didn’t know if he should feel any way other than needy, wanton, eager for everything and anything. He tunneled his fingers into Gideon’s hair, gripping tight and pulling.

The other man moaned, bucking into André and backing him into the wall. Eyes closed, André lifted a leg, wrapping it around Gideon’s hip, rubbing on him in a mindless search for release, for more of that pleasure Gideon doled out so generously. It’d been a very long time since he’d been in someone else’s embrace, since anyone had wanted him the way Gideon did.

How could André bottle that feeling for when he no longer had Gideon close?

One kiss, and he felt as if he’d been consumed.

What would it be like to have more, to go beyond this—the two of them dry-humping, their movements frantic and uncoordinated? When had the kiss devolved into this?

Gideon broke the kiss, lips skating over André’s jaw. André tilted his chin up, head back, exposing his throat to a self-confessed killer. Teeth nipped his skin, slick tongue slid over him, soothing, and he trembled, both hands clutching Gideon’s head close, urging him on as André struggled to catch a breath.

He had a million questions, but they all dissolved on his tongue when one of Gideon’s palms slid down his chest and kept going, cupping André’s cock through his pants.

“Ugh.” He pushed into that touch.

Gideon’s breath was hot and harsh, and every inch of André’s skin he kissed felt as if he’d stayed out in the sun for too long.

Gideon made his way down André’s chest, kissing him over his t-shirt, dropping to his knees, and pausing to bury his face in André’s stomach. André cupped his nape with unsteady fingers, forcing Gideon’s head back.

The other man blinked up at him with hazy eyes clouded with arousal. And exhaustion.

André shook his head to clear the lust. “When was the last time you slept?”

Gideon stared at him. “That’s what you want to talk about?” Even through the material of his t-shirt, André felt the heat of his breath.

He smothered a shiver. “You look like you need to sleep.”

Gideon’s lips curved. “I’m this close to sucking your cock and you want me to go to sleep?”

André’s dick twitched in response. He’d pay good money to have Gideon’s mouth on him. Fuck, just the thought— He swallowed roughly, fingers flexing in the hair at Gideon’s nape. “Is the offer time sensitive then?”

A slow smile crept over Gideon’s features. God, he was gorgeous. And those heavy-lidded eyes gave away his exhaustion, as did the fine lines around his eyes. “The offer is open-ended.”

André’s heart lurched in his chest, but he kept his expression as impassive as he could and nodded once. “Good. Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

He had one of the most powerful and dangerous men ever on his knees, willing to grant him favors without hesitation. Power like that could go to a man’s head. André released Gideon and took a step back, holding out a hand. “Get on the bed for me?”

Gideon took his hand without speaking and André tugged him to his feet, leading him the few short steps to the bed. Gideon climbed on, releasing a deeply satisfied sound as he buried his face in the pillows.

“It smells like you.” His words were muffled by the pillows, but they still made André’s pulse race. “I like it.”

“Good.” His voice cracked. “Get some rest.”

Gideon didn’t make a sound of protest, so André went about removing the other man’s shoes. By the time that was done, soft snores reached his ears.

He stood next to the bed, hands fisted at his sides as he gazed down at Gideon. He slept on his stomach, hugging the pillows. So still, he looked so vulnerable. André wanted to know so much about him, the kind of life he led.

A killer.

The kind of man Gideon was, André didn’t know how to deal with him. They wanted each other—and yes, that kiss was something else—but was André setting himself up for heartbreak by getting involved with Gideon?

Men like Gideon, like André’s father, all they did was take you, destroy you, then discard you before they moved on to the next. So why was André standing there, chest filled with anticipation for a repeat of what they just did?

It was dangerous to hold the interest of Gideon Winters.

But that interest was all-consuming. It made him feel special. It could be addictive, too. André already suspected he wouldn’t escape any of this unscathed. He should put a stop to it; that first kiss should be their last.

But there was something in the way Gideon looked at him. In the way he put his hands on André. In the way he kissed him.

André felt him down to his bones.

And he didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Why are you in André’s bed?”

A soft hand landed on Gideon’s shoulder and he jerked his head up, blinking blearily at whoever was speaking. It took a while for his vision to focus enough for him to make out André’s bedroom, the door hanging wide open, and Jules’s curious stare.

“What—” He swallowed a curse and glanced around. He’d fallen asleep in André’s bed? Fuck.

“So?”

He returned his gaze to Jules again. She watched him too closely, and there was too much happening behind her eyes that he didn’t care to acknowledge. “Miss Juliette.” He cleared the sleep out of his voice and tried to act as if this was where he was supposed to be. Didn’t have to act much, though. Last night, he’d felt as if he’d die if he didn’t get to kiss André.

And he had.

Then he’d… What? Fallen asleep? Because he was still fully dressed, sans shoes. From the position of the sun shining through the window, it was quite late in the day. He’d slept the day away. Samir must be pissed.

“You slept here?”

Jules wasn’t letting up and he wasn’t about to answer her questions. “Where is your brother?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I came in and you were here.” She paused, eyes narrowing. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not answering my questions.” You’d think she’d have taken the hint, but nope, she kept on. “Why are you sleeping in André’s bed?”

“Jules!”

Oh, thank God.

André appeared in the doorway, throwing a glance over his shoulder before entering with a plate piled high with food—food that included bacon, it smelled like—and a cup of coffee. He put the plate and cup down on the night table near Gideon and turned to his sister.

“What did I say about entering a room without knocking?”

“You weren’t here. How do you know I didn’t knock?”

André made an exasperated sound. “Go away.” He touched the top of her head. “I need to talk to Gideon.”

Her expression turned shrewd. “And will that conversation be about why he’s sleeping in your bed?”

“Mind your business.” André grasped the handles of her wheelchair and gently turned her toward the door. “Go eat the food you convinced the chef to make and I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Miss Juliette,” Gideon called out.

She flashed him a scowl over her shoulder but wheeled herself out of the room when André held the door open. Once she was gone, André closed the door and leaned against it, facing Gideon. He fidgeted from foot to foot, and Gideon realized André had yet to look at him since entering the room.

“Bacon for dinner?” Without asking permission, he snagged a strip of bacon from the plate André brought in, eyes closing when the flavor exploded on his taste buds. Fuck, he was hungry.

“Yeah. Jules asked the chef to make breakfast for dinner. He made waffles and pancakes, bacon and eggs, fruit and a whole bunch of other⁠—”

“You’re rambling,” Gideon cut him off.

“Um.” André’s gaze settled somewhere above Gideon’s head. “Feel free to leave at any time.”

He’d begun to feel bad for falling asleep on the other man before they’d had the chance to get to the fun stuff, but now Gideon frowned at André’s almost panicked tone. “What’s going on?”

André licked his lips and took a step forward. Gideon’s belly warmed at the reminder of what that tongue could do. “I didn’t want Jules to know you were here.” Once again, he looked everywhere but at Gideon.

Gideon cocked his head. “Why?” It wasn’t disappointment or hurt that tightened his voice, he was sure. Everyone wanted to be seen with him, wanted to brag that they knew the Winters’s Prodigal, but the man he wanted—the man he definitely shouldn’t fucking want—didn’t want to be seen with him?

“Look.” There went that tongue swiping across André's lips again. Gideon’s dick liked it a little too much. “I don’t— It’s not a good idea for me to get involved with you. You’re…you’re the Winters and dangerous, and I’m⁠—”

Gideon lost his appetite. “You’re what? Look at me.” He waited until André’s reluctant gaze met his. “You’re what?” André’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t respond. “You didn’t like my mouth on yours?” Gideon lifted an eyebrow, voice getting frostier by the second. He didn’t appreciate the sliver of hurt that worked through him. “Would you have preferred my mouth on something else?”

André’s nostrils flared and Gideon swore the other man blushed. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why not?” Gideon demanded. “You wanted it. I wanted it.” He gentled his tone and tried not to sound too much like he was begging when he said, “Still do.”

“Gideon.”

“You should come closer. If you’re so far away you won’t be able to smell me. I know how much you love the way I smell,” he finished smugly.

André definitely blushed that time. “I wasn’t in my right mind when I said that.” But he moved within arms’ reach.

“No? Sorry, I can’t say the same. I was definitely in my right mind when I offered to spit-shine your dick.”

André pressed his lips together, doing that fidgeting thing again. But he was hard, Gideon found when he raked his gaze down the other man’s body, stopping at the impressive bulge at the front of André’s jeans. It was his turn to lick his lips. André made a sound, a soft little whimper, and Gideon’s gaze flew to his.

André watched him with wide eyes and parted lips. “So, you just want to fuck me?"

Gideon shook his head with a broken chuckle. “I have a feeling there’s no ‘just fucking’ when it comes to you.” Which should be all the warning he needed to get the fuck up and walk away. There were plans in place, plans that involved the other man. None of those plans that took years to strategize, formulate, and put in place included going multiple rounds on that bed Gideon lay on.

But that was all he wanted.

To be wrapped in André’s warm skin, his taste smothering Gideon’s taste buds, and his sounds of pleasure battering Gideon’s ear drums. That was what Gideon wanted.

“Your people know you’re in here.”

Ah, fuck. He was in no mood to hear shit from Samir. “Do they?” he asked nonchalantly.

“I don’t think they’d be happy to know I had the Winters’s prodigal on his knees ready to grant me favors.”

Gideon smirked. “You’d be surprised to know what makes my people happy.” Not that though; they would have him committed. He reached out and grabbed André’s wrist, yanking him down to sit on the edge of the bed. “I asked you a question last night. One you didn’t bother answering.”

André stared down at where Gideon continued to hold him. “What question?” He sounded strained.

Gideon knew the feeling. “Who is Ty Levins?”

André’s gaze darted away quickly before coming back to Gideon's. “A friend.”

Gideon narrowed his gaze. “A friend you fucked?”

André rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“A friend you’re still fucking?”

“That matters why?”

Gideon tightened his grip on his wrist. “Answer the question,” he growled.

“No.” Fuck, the stubborn tilt of André’s chin should not have Gideon ready to cum on himself. “Answer me first. Why does it matter?”

“It matters because I want to be the only friend you fuck.”

“You’re not my friend,” André fired back. But the fire in his eyes matched the same flames from their kiss, and it took everything in Gideon to keep from lurching forward and swallowing the other man’s tongue.

He leaned forward, lips brushing André’s jaw. “We could be enemies,” he whispered. André shivered, and satisfaction curved Gideon’s lips. “We could be whatever. As long as we fuck.”

10

He made it difficult to be good.

André swallowed back the automatic yes. Gideon Winters made him want to forget. He entertained giving in to Gideon’s indecent proposal for far longer than he probably should have.

There was something in the way Gideon’s heady scent flowed toward him, warm and intoxicating, as if sleep only turned him more potent. Something in the way his fingertips pinched into the soft flesh of André’s wrist...

He wanted to give in.

Wanted to have Gideon back on his tongue again. His body moved before his head caught up, swaying into the pulling warmth of Gideon’s body. He looked so good in that bed, something André had been trying so hard not to notice. When Gideon left, his scent would be all over the sheets. The pillows.

A thrill shot through André at the thought, sinking low into his groin, making his dick jerk and his balls ache. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about Gideon Winters. He was everything André hated, everything he swore he’d never entertain.

It was men like Gideon who’d hurt André’s mother. A man just like Gideon who’d cast her aside, tossing money at her to ensure she stayed gone.

That reminder only cooled André’s lust the smallest bit as he stared into Gideon’s eyes. This close, they were like live fucking sockets, and André shivered when a shock rolled through him.

“I’m not fucking you.” He uttered the words once. Then twice. “I’m not fucking you.” This one was to himself. A promise. A vow he really hoped he’d be able to keep.

Gideon’s lips curved even as disappointment flashed in his eyes. “You should tell your dick that.” He dropped his gaze to André’s crotch, where his dick was indeed all perked up and doing its best to tear through his jeans, then leaned forward to whisper in André’s ear, “He wants me.” He pulled back slowly, meeting André’s gaze as he licked his lips, and André wanted to punch him because why was that simple gesture so hot?

Why did his dick jerk in agonized response? André tore his hand away and jumped to his feet. “I think you should leave.” He rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. “Or I—Jules and I—should leave.”

Gideon leaned back against the pillows and folded his arms. “Yeah?” He didn’t say anything else, but his tone…

André took a step back, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah, I think Jules and I should leave. Being here is— We shouldn’t have come here.” Looking back now, he couldn’t even remember why he’d thought staying had been a good idea. “I’m sure it’s safe to go home now.” It had to be, right?

“You’re sure?” Gideon repeated slowly. His eyes darkened, giving a hint of his mood, but André didn’t care. He and Jules needed to get back to their lives.

“Listen, it’s not like I don’t appreciate what you’ve done for us,” he said carefully. “But even you have to admit, us being here with you is— It’s crazy.”

Gideon held his gaze without blinking. André tried to act as if that shit, along with the other man’s silence, didn’t freak him out. But Gideon had to understand where he was coming from; they were two different men, and it didn’t matter that André was attracted to him. It didn’t matter that Jules liked Gideon.

It couldn’t matter.

They were from two completely different worlds, and André couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by Gideon’s hypnotic scent and the way he kissed. Nor by the promise of having the other man’s mouth on any other part of his body—despite what his traitorous dick wanted.

Gideon got off the bed, and André inhaled sharply when he straightened to his full height. Even all creased and rumpled from sleep, he was still the sexiest, the most dangerous…

He made André’s mouth water with just a glance, and that right there was proof enough that André needed to get as far away from him as possible.

Gideon stepped forward.

André took a step back.

Gideon came forward and André retreated.

Again and again, until he was backed against the wall and Gideon was on him, close enough to touch. But they weren’t touching. And he didn’t want them to. He didn’t. They were close enough for him to be able to make out the flecks of golden brown in Gideon’s eyes and the tiniest freckles that dotted his nose and under his eyes.

André’s fingers twitched to touch them, trace them, count them.

He didn’t.

Because every time he inhaled he took Gideon’s scent into his lungs, and it felt as if it were burning away his resistance, breath by breath. “Gideon.”

“There are men out there sent to kill you,” Gideon said finally. Softly, as if talking to a petulant child. “Forget about your stubborn ass for a minute; how will you keep your sister safe? The police are bought and paid for⁠—”

“By you!” André blurted.

“Yes.” Gideon nodded calmly. “But only because my check is bigger. You can’t go to them for help because you can’t afford them. Who will protect Juliette, André? Because you can’t.”

Shame washed over André as Gideon said it so plainly. Laying out André’s failing in front of him so there’d be no mistaking…he was a failure.

“Hey.” A rough, warm touch settled on André’s jaw, and it took a moment to realize Gideon was touching him—cupping his chin, holding him steady, and peering into his eyes. “That is not to make you feel bad.” He shifted in closer. “It’s a reminder that you’re playing out of your league. You are not prepared.” His grip tightened on André’s face. “But I am. I will protect you and Juliette. I swear it.”

He’d done enough so far, but what André wanted to know was… “Why? Why would you do this for us?” He didn’t think he’d fully understand Gideon’s motives and he needed to.

It took a while for Gideon to answer, and in the silence that settled over them, André watched him struggle internally. Was he deciding what he could and couldn’t share with André?

“You’re using me to get close to my—to Ennis Canto, and I want to know why. You think he’s the one behind what happened to me and Jules, and I want to know why. I need the truth from you,” André pressed him. “I deserve that.”

Gideon nodded once. “You do.” He dropped his hand from André’s face finally, and André battled the urge to grab that hand and put it back where it was. Fuck.

“I believe Ennis Canto is involved—somehow—in the shooting that killed my mother.” And Gideon shared, in a tone that belied the anger in his eyes, what happened to him and his family all those years ago.

André inhaled sharply when he was finished, rocking back on his heels. “What the fuck? And you think my—Ennis—is behind it? That’s—that can’t be right.”

“If he’s not involved then he has information on who is.”

André shook his head. “Okay, that’s—” Fucked up was what it was. “But what does that have to do with me?”

Gideon shrugged. “He wants you dead. I want to know why.”

So did André. “But Jules and I don’t need to be here for that, do we?”

“You do.” Gideon touched him again, the slide of a fingertip down André’s nose, over his lips, lingering there. “Because I want you to stay. I like Juliette. And I like you.”

“Do you?” André narrowed his eyes, pretending as if he didn’t want to dart his tongue out to lick Gideon’s finger. “Or do you just want to fuck me?”

Gideon chuckled. “There is no just, I told you already.” He dipped his head, breath heating André’s skin, lips brushing over André’s. “When we finally get to where we’re headed”—he glanced back at the bed before returning his smoldering gaze to André’s—“it will be everything.”

André couldn’t breathe, but he forced out a snort. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”

A knock came on the door just as Gideon winked. “Yep, and I know you want the same…to be full of me.”

11

Gideon didn’t think it would take such effort to not touch André. To watch the other man walk away from him and toward the bedroom door, opening it to reveal Samir, who stood on the other side with a tick in his jaw.

Not who Gideon wanted to deal with at the moment. Especially with a hard dick and frustration hollowing his gut. For a moment, responsibilities and strategies were inconsequential and all he wanted was André’s touch. His kiss.

Disappointment filled his chest but he only had himself to blame. He shouldn’t have allowed any of it. But he couldn’t help himself when it came to André. It felt right, verbally sparring with him. Watching him blush and deny himself. Plus, the possibility of having him again, the thought that André could allow Gideon to kiss him again… Gideon kept hoping, waiting for an opening.

Which was closed now because André had enough sense to know this thing wouldn’t work. Then there was Samir, who stood at the door like a parent about to scold a wayward child.

Gideon swallowed back a sigh.

“You have a visitor,” Samir told him. There were a million unspoken things in his eyes but he didn’t voice them—he wouldn’t, not until he and Gideon were alone. Gideon loved him for that, even though he also dreaded that moment. He wasn’t prepared for Samir to tell him how much of a bad idea getting involved with André was.

Gideon knew. And still, he was finding it harder and harder to care. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Ree.”

André had his back to Gideon, but at Ree’s name, he glanced over his shoulder just long enough for Gideon to make out the hurt in his eyes before André masked it. “Oh, look. Your girlfriend is here.” He stepped aside with his hand still on the doorknob, a not-so-silent—or subtle—invite for Gideon to leave. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Ree is not my girlfriend.” He shouldn’t even be entertaining anything André had to say, but Gideon didn’t want doubts and questions to linger between them; there was already enough other shit at play.

“I don’t care.” André didn’t look at him. He definitely fucking cared, but Gideon didn’t call him on it.

Samir’s jaw ticked, gaze traveling back and forth between Gideon and André.

Fuck. Gideon shook his head and closed the distance between himself and André. Grabbing the other man’s arm, Gideon hauled him in close and murmured in his ear, “I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, for that matter. If you want to deny yourself what you really want, you’re gonna have to find another excuse.” He released André abruptly and stepped past him out the door.

He kept going without looking over his shoulder or slowing down. Samir would catch up soon enough. He forced André from his thoughts—a near impossibility—and instead tried focusing on Ree with a frown. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again after the way they’d left things the last time. So why was she back?

What did she want?

Samir caught up with him then and they walked shoulder to shoulder in silence toward Gideon’s office until Samir spoke.

“You’re fascinated by him.”

Well, he was. So Gideon didn’t bother denying the charge.

“You cannot afford to be distracted, G.”

“I’m not distracted.” Didn’t he already tell Samir that? Seems his friend didn’t buy it then and he didn’t buy it now.

“And you cannot get involved,” Samir continued as if Gideon hadn’t voiced that obviously false denial. “He has his purpose, and it does not include fucking you.”

Gideon bit back the angry retort that surged to the tip of his tongue. “Let’s not talk about André.” Because he didn’t want to hear what he couldn’t and shouldn’t do. Not when all of the arguments against it made sense. Not when all of it was true. “What does Ree want?”

Samir shrugged, slowing his footsteps as they arrived at Gideon’s office. “She didn’t say, just insisted she needed to talk to you and only you.” He jerked his chin at Marco, who stood outside the closed office door like a sentry, arms crossed. “I had him search her thoroughly for a wire or any recording devices. Or a gun, in case she came back to put a bullet in your ass for killing her father.”

Gideon scoffed. “She didn’t like him that much.” But Ree was fierce and a fighter. Had been even as a child. He’d always admired that about her. He blew out a breath. “All right, I’m going in alone.”

“The fuck you are,” Marco barked. “She could still do something⁠—”

“She won’t.” He probably shouldn’t be vouching for Ree, but he did. “Ree wouldn’t hurt me.” Without waiting for a response from either of the men who sometimes forgot they actually worked for him, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Closing the door softly, he leaned against it and smiled at Ree, who sat at the edge of his desk. “My people think you’re here to kill me.”

“Maybe I am.” She got off the desk and approached him slowly. Still short, dainty, and breakable in appearance, but her eyes told a different story. She’d been through some things. Maybe not as fucked up as Gideon, but she’d been tested all the same. “Payback for killing my father?”

He cocked his head. “Ree, why do you think I did that?”

“Funny, that’s what’s been bugging me, and it’s the first question I asked the guy who just appeared in my apartment last night.”

Gideon stiffened, eyes narrowed. “What guy?”

She shrugged. “Took a while to figure out why he was so familiar, but then it came to me.” She snapped her fingers. “Ennis Canto. You two run in the same circles, don’t you?”

What the fuck was Ennis playing at? “What did he want?”

“To confirm that you did kill my father. And to tell me you cannot be trusted.”

“And you believe him?”

“What does he have against you?” Ree asked instead. “Because clearly, if he came to me, he has an agenda.”

“Just a business deal,” he told her dismissively as he turned and opened the door. As he expected, Samir and Marco waited on the other side. “Marco, have Ree taken home. I want at least two men on her at all times.”

“Wait, what?” Ree grabbed his arm. “That’s not why I came here. I⁠—”

“It doesn’t matter why you came, Ree,” he said to her while holding Samir’s gaze. “Ennis Canto paid Ree a visit.”

Samir lifted an eyebrow. “A desperate move.”

Indeed. “Marco.”

Marco stepped in, taking Ree’s arm and holding tight as she tried to jerk away from him.

“Gideon, wait. Hey, don’t fucking touch me. I’m not done. Gideon!”

“Go with Marco, he’ll make sure you’re safe.” Gideon ignored her protests until Ree and Marco were out of sight. Samir joined him inside the office, closing the door.

“Going to Ree was a desperate move on his part.” Samir’s expression turned thoughtful. “We just might have him where we want him.”

They just might. “Let’s shift to the next stage of the plan. I want it executed tonight.”

Samir’s phone pinged and he fished it out of his pocket, lips curling at whatever he read on the screen. “Perfect timing.” He lifted his head, eyes flashing with that particular gleam he got whenever a plan was coming together. “The Council just called an emergency meeting.”

Gideon chuckled. “Perfect timing, indeed.”

All the members of The Council were present. Well, except for the dead ones. Prislaya’s seat was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long if The Council had its way.

Gideon sat in the seat his father once occupied, the one that rightfully belonged to him, with his arms folded as he waited. They’d called the meeting and he wanted to see what they had to say.

He didn’t bother looking at Ennis Canto. Just the sight of that motherfucker when he’d walked into the meeting had Gideon wanting to say fuck the plan and just toss a bomb into the building, wiping every-goddamn-body out.

His lips quirked.

That would definitely irritate Samir.

“Some troubling allegations have been brought to our attention.” Chinh Dang opened the meeting without the usual tedious ceremonial bullshit. She was a short woman, her brown bob laced liberally with gray, face unlined, gaze alert. If there was one person on The Council Gideon might be close to respecting, it would be her.

“Ennis.” Chinh motioned for him to speak, and so Ennis began.

“Prislaya and I were having dinner, as we do on occasion, since we’re old friends.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. Old friends was code for they used to fuck.

“The Winters ambushed us…”

This guy was like a fucking kid, tattling on his siblings because they didn’t include him in their shenanigans. Gideon’s fingers flexed. If he had his gun on him now, he would shoot that fucker just to shut him up.

He tuned out Ennis and found his mind drifting to the last place it should. Back to André’s bedroom, when it’d just been the two of them and André was fighting the pull between them.

Gideon should have been fighting that pull too, but it felt so easy, so natural. Nothing in his life had ever been that easy. Nothing. He knew what Samir said, and Gideon loved his friend for the warning and the reminder, but it still didn’t matter.

He still wanted André so much that it hurt to leave the house earlier without going to him and checking on him one last time.

Fuck. He scrubbed a hand over his face, returning to awareness just as Ennis got to the end of his sob story about Gideon shooting Prislaya.

Silence reverberated in the large room as everyone turned their gazes to Gideon. They hadn’t wanted him on the dais with them since he hadn’t been formally sworn in.

But did he give a fuck?

He was The Winters. He made the fucking rules; they just didn’t realize that shit yet.

But they would.

“Why are we sitting around, allowing this imposter to infiltrate our inner sanctum⁠—”

Gideon held a hand up, silencing Joseph Morrow before he could spew even more of his bullshit. “Nobody wants to hear you, Joe, so I’d keep your mouth shut if I were you.” Gideon didn’t even look at the old fucker. Instead, he gave Chinh Dang his focus. She hadn’t done anything to disrespect him or earn his ire…yet. “A warning was issued the first time I set foot in here. I told the members of this council I wasn’t easy to kill.” He smirked. “I mean, my presence here speaks for itself. My identity has been confirmed by the blood test you demanded, but still, two sitting members of this very council openly plotted my death.” He paused for effect. “Something we all know is punishable by death if proven.”

On cue, because he was just that good—and also because his people were magicians with technology—a conversation began playing over the conveniently placed hidden speakers. They were tiny, fitting in the palm of his hand, but they were powerful. The tech guys had told him where to place them in the room and he’d done so, discreetly.

Now, The Council had no choice but to listen to Ennis and Prislaya plot Gideon’s death.

He glanced down to where Ennis sat with a blank expression. The older man didn’t look at him, but if he had, Gideon would have saluted him.

For being so fucking stupid.

When the audio ended, Gideon got to his feet. “As is my right, I dealt with the threat Prislaya Chopra posed.”

“Yet Mister Canto is still with us.”

He didn’t know who said that, but Gideon nodded. “Yes. For now. I get to decide when I take my retribution.” He took a breath. “I am not my father. You will not make attempts on my life and continue to draw breath. I will end every fucking one of you and build a new council on top of your rotting corpses.” He took his time meeting the gaze of every single one of them, leaving Ennis for last, and when he held that bastard’s gaze, Gideon said, “I’m not in the habit of issuing warnings, but this is my last one: Come for me and you die.”

His last words rang out in the silence that followed until Chinh Dang said, “We must swear in Prislaya’s proxy and⁠—”

“No. That seat will remain empty for now.”

The room erupted in an argument that he ignored as he walked away. He didn’t give a fuck about them. He had his mission and he would see it through. No matter what.

Outside in the SUV, he sat and waited, watching all the members as they left. All of them angry, all of them cursing his name.

Except for Ennis. He had a different expression on his face—contemplation? Introspection?—as he climbed into his vehicle, flanked by his bodyguards.

“Make sure our people stay on him,” Gideon told Samir, who sat at his side. “I want to know where he goes and what he does tonight.”

Samir nodded.

“In the meantime…”

Samir grinned. “It’s done.” He handed Gideon a tablet. Joseph Morrow’s life was about to take a swift and sharp downturn. One his money and power couldn’t save him from. Gideon had made damn fucking sure of it.

He stared at the live feed playing out on the tablet. The video was from the helmet cam of one of the members of the SWAT team that had just raided Morrow’s country home. They’d been tipped off by Gideon. And those members were the unfortunate few who couldn’t be bribed—well, by anyone other than Gideon. But the only thing he wanted from them was for them to do their jobs the right way and by the book.

The judge who’d signed off on the no-knock warrant was in Gideon’s pocket, of course.

As he watched, the SWAT team reached the door hidden inside Morrow’s basement study behind a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. There were at least seven heavy-duty padlocks on that steel door and it took a while for them to get bolt cutters, but once they got the door open, it wasn’t hard to spot the young woman chained to the floor, sitting in her own filth.

Gideon breathed out a sigh of relief, eyes glued to the black-and-white footage as someone freed the girl, who hadn’t made one sound yet as far as Gideon could tell. She didn’t speak and didn’t fight when they carried her out of the room to safety.

She’d been in Morrow’s clutches for almost three years.

Something close to shame burned in Gideon’s chest, and he rubbed that spot with his free hand. He’d known about Nivea Arceneaux for a long time. His father had shared her fate with him. But instead of rescuing her then, they’d waited, factored her into the plan, and used her to bring down Joseph Morrow when the timing was just right.

For the first time, he wondered if the plan was as sound as he’d always thought it to be. For the first time, he wondered if he could deviate from it. He could have André. He could⁠—

Samir’s phone went off and he brought it to his ear, murmuring. He stiffened, then jerked his head up at Gideon.

“What?”

“Ennis Canto was just ambushed. He’s taking fire.”

What the— Gideon blinked. “What?”

“Our guys want to know if they should intervene.”

“Where are they? Let’s go!” he barked at the driver.

Samir got Ennis’s location from their people and shouted it to the driver. They were less than five minutes away. What the fuck was going on? He’d just been thinking about a deviation from the plan, but this wasn’t what he had in mind.

“Do they know who was behind it?” It wouldn’t be The Council. At least Gideon didn’t think so, which meant somebody else wanted Ennis dead.

Hell fucking no.

“Jack said it was two people on a motorcycle. They drove up alongside Ennis’s SUV and started firing. Ennis’s driver swerved and ran into a barricade. The car flipped.” Samir paused. “They can save Ennis or they can go after the shooters.”

“Goddamn it.” Gideon pounded a fist on his thigh. “I want the shooters. Tell them I want at least one of them alive. Mick,” he said, addressing his driver. “Get us to that scene. Now!”

“Yes, boss.”

Mick blew through all the red lights like a fucking pro, and when they arrived at the crash sight, Gideon hopped out of the vehicle without waiting for Mick to come to a complete stop.

“Shit!” Ennis’s SUV was on its side, shattered glass everywhere, smoking, riddled with bullet holes.

“G, stand back. Mick and I got this.”

He ignored Samir and took a step forward, but Samir grabbed him by the shoulder. “G. Listen to me. We’re exposed here. I need you to fall back. Let us handle this.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I can handle myself, and while we’re debating, Ennis is probably dying. We can’t let that happen.” That wasn’t part of the fucking plan!

Samir blew out a breath and dropped the subject. Gideon stood back long enough to watch Mick and Samir drag an unconscious Ennis out of the vehicle. Pulling out his phone, Gideon made some calls as Mick and Samir loaded Ennis into their SUV.

“The helicopter is waiting for us. Doc is on his way to the penthouse.”

The penthouse was about an hour away by helicopter and Ennis—Gideon allowed himself to take a good look at the older man as Mick drove them away from the scene, tires squealing—was soaked in blood.

“Everyone else is dead,” Samir told him, applying pressure to Ennis’s stomach. “He’s been hit three times. One in the stomach, one in the hand, and another in the chest.” Samir lifted his gaze to Gideon. “Don’t know if he’s gonna make it, G.”

“He fucking better.”

12

“Gideon!”

André’s head shot up at his sister’s loud greeting, just in time to watch as Gideon entered the kitchen. Gideon’s gaze zeroed in on him even as he greeted Jules.

“Miss Juliette. Good morning.” He stared at André.

André stared back.

This was the first time they were seeing each other face-to-face since Gideon left André’s room early last evening. He’d left to handle some business according to what André had overheard Gideon and Samir discussing.

But Gideon looked as if he hadn’t slept. And he still wore the clothes he’d been wearing when André watched him get into his helicopter yesterday. Of course, Gideon had no clue André had made his way onto his roof to watch him depart, and André preferred it that way. Besides, something about the cold hardness in Gideon’s eyes didn’t lend itself to confessions.

Where had he gone? Who had he spent the night with if he looked as if he hadn’t been to bed yet?

André didn’t want to know because it was none of his business. He tore his gaze from Gideon’s and focused on the cream cheese-stuffed French toast topped with fresh berries and from-scratch whipped cream the chef had made for breakfast. He would miss the food when he finally left this place. Every meal was something decadent and mouthwatering.

Gideon walked past their table to the fridge, and though André’s head was bent, his attention on his plate, he felt Gideon’s presence like his breath was on the back of his neck, hot and shiver-inducing. He recalled the kiss they’d shared and his taste buds watered, food forgotten.

“You look tired.” Jules broke the thick silence, addressing Gideon. “You should sleep.”

Gideon made a sound—could’ve been a snort. “Yes, I should.” His voice was strained, heavy in a way that had André lifting his head before he’d had the chance to think about what he was doing.

Gideon wasn’t looking at him.

And was André happy or sad about that?

Their host’s gaze remained unfocused as he stared down into the glass of orange juice in his hand.

“Mister Winters.” The chef came out of one of the huge, fully stocked pantries. There were three of them. Three! “Would you like some breakfast, sir? I can⁠—”

“No, thank you.” Gideon shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He downed the juice, then put the glass in the sink and turned away, heading for the door.

Something about the set of his shoulders—which André only noticed because he couldn’t help staring at Gideon’s back—about the way he walked… Something was going on.

“I’ll be back,” André told Jules as he pushed his chair back and stood. “Gideon.” He raced after the other man, catching up to him in the hallway outside the kitchen. “Gideon, wait.”

“Go back to your breakfast.” Gideon didn’t look at him, nor did he slow down. He just kept on walking.

André matched his strides. “What’s going on? Why do you look like…that?”

“Like what?” Nothing in Gideon’s tone invited conversation, but André kept pushing.

“Did something happen?” When Gideon didn’t answer, André grabbed him by the upper arm, forcing him to stop. “What’s going on?”

Gideon’s gaze slid slowly, dramatically, to where André held him, then to André’s face. Heat washed over André’s body, starting at his face—embarrassment mixed with the potent attraction he suspected he would always be experiencing for Gideon.

“You should return to your sister. You looked as if you were enjoying your breakfast.”

He had been, but André didn’t respond to that comment. Instead, he firmed his jaw. “Tell me what happened and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Gideon lifted a brow. “Why do you want to know?”

That question fell between them, bloated with more than just the single question Gideon voiced. “I just—” André shrugged. “I just want to be here for you.” As much as he berated himself for feeling the way he did for Gideon, for wanting him, he did.

Gideon stared at him.

“Please?”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Gideon turned away and resumed walking. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“So you’re just gonna walk away?” André didn’t put any effort into hiding the hurt in his voice, and Gideon stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him, eyes flashing.

“Why should I share any more than I have to with you?” he asked as he closed the distance between them. “You’ve made it clear you want away from me.”

André blinked up into his eyes.

“What you’re asking from me is unfair and you know it.”

What the fuck? “Don’t act as if you don’t know where my responses stem from,” André responded. “But if⁠—”

“G.” Samir’s call, and footsteps, came from the opposite direction, and André turned toward it, falling back a step when Samir came into view.

The entire front of his white shirt was covered in a dried brownish-red substance.

“What the fuck?” The question squeezed past André’s tight throat and came out soft and trembling. “Is that blood?” And was he also wearing the clothes he had on when they left yesterday?

Samir didn’t even look at him. “The doc is finished,” he murmured to Gideon. “He wants to see you.”

The two of them began walking away, moving at a breakneck pace. André hurried after them.

“G.” Samir nudged Gideon with an elbow as they stopped in front of a door.

“I know,” Gideon murmured. Then he glanced over his shoulder as the door opened on its own to reveal…an elevator. “Come on.”

What the fuck? The penthouse already had an elevator. André had used it last night to get to the roof. But there was also a secret elevator? André gaped as the two men got on and waited for him to do the same. He stepped inside the space that was large enough to resemble a freight elevator. “This is— You have⁠—”

“Yep.” Samir was the one to speak, but André just stared at Gideon, who wasn’t looking at him. “Where you’re about to go, and what you’re about to see, is not to be shared. Not with anyone,” Samir stressed. “Not even your sister.” He paused, and when André didn’t speak, he asked, “You got me?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” André bobbed his head in a nod. “I got you.” Where the hell was he about to go? What was he about to see? And why wasn’t Gideon looking at him or speaking? He just stood there in silence, facing the elevator doors.

André pressed his lips together. He’d wanted to know what was going on; this was his chance. The elevator stopped after a few minutes, and the doors opened into what looked like a completely different place. At first glance, it didn’t appear as if they were still in Gideon’s penthouse.

André’s brow furrowed as Gideon stepped out first. When André went to exit, Samir extended an arm out against André’s chest, blocking him from moving.

“He might trust you,” he told André grimly, “but the jury’s still out for me.”

André swallowed around the dryness in his throat and kept his gaze averted from the blood on Samir’s clothes. “I won’t betray him.” Fear had his voice weak and thready. He didn’t doubt Samir could do unspeakable violence to him if André got on his bad side.

Samir grunted. “We’ll see.” He dropped his hand, motioning for André to get out.

He couldn’t leave that elevator fast enough. He breathed deeply and glanced around. They were in a hallway, with several closed doors, and Gideon was nowhere to be seen.

“To your left,” Samir instructed.

André hung back, allowing him to take the lead but following closely. What was that warning about? Apprehension slithered down his spine as he followed Samir. Had he made a mistake following them? Where were they taking him? Fuck, what if this whole thing was a mistake and he was only realizing it now when it was already too late? Goddamn it, when it came to Gideon Winters, André just couldn’t make smart decisions.

Samir’s strides slowed, and André did the same as they turned another corner. Masked men in balaclavas, carrying huge guns, lined the length of the carpeted hallway. He counted ten before they arrived at the only door, the one that was being guarded.

What the fuck was happening?

Who was behind that door?

One of the men nodded at Samir and opened the door for him. Samir entered. André took a deep breath and did the same.

It was a fucking medical unit.

Men and women in scrubs and surgical masks were hustling about, and medical machines were beeping. It smelled like a hospital—felt like it too. André blinked. The place was—it was set up like the real thing. A small manned nurses’ station was off to his right, and six chairs and a set of vending machines made up a waiting area to his left. A heavy curtain cut off line of sight directly in front of him, so he didn’t know what else was going on, but…

He glanced at Samir and found the other man watching him.

“Follow me.” Samir headed for the heavy curtain, drawing it back. Rooms were partitioned off, like triage in an emergency room. André made out five of them. Four of the obvious hospital beds were empty, and machines sat dark and silent. But the curtain was drawn on the fifth, and André made out voices coming from there, almost drowned out by the loudly beeping machines.

His heart thudded.

Someone was in that bed.

Samir headed there, ducking under the curtain. André bit his lip, wondering if he should follow. Someone came out wearing a white lab coat, a stethoscope around his neck, a tablet in hand. A doctor. Then another person. This one was decked out as if she was about to go perform surgery. Or had just come from performing surgery. They nodded at André and left.

Then Gideon poked his head out from behind the curtain. “André.”

André’s feet moved, one in front of the other. Until he was inside the room, standing in the middle of Gideon and Samir, staring down at a man on the bed. He was hooked up to so many machines and a breathing mask covered his nose and mouth.

Despite all the tubes covering him everywhere, André was still able to recognize him. There was no missing who that man was.

How did his father come to be here, in Gideon Winters’s secret hospital, clearly fighting for his life?

“What the fuck?” André’s voice was a shocked whisper. “What is this?”

Samir met Gideon’s eye, and Gideon didn’t have to ask to know what his friend was thinking—he didn’t want them to involve André. Samir thought he was a liability and couldn’t be fully trusted. Gideon wasn’t of the same mind, but maybe that was because he had a different kind of interest in André.

Either way, standing at the foot of Ennis Canto’s bed wasn’t the proper place for them to have any kind of deep discussion.

“Gideon.” André grabbed him. “What⁠—”

“Don’t touch him.” Samir stepped forward, but Gideon slashed a look in his friend’s direction, stopping him in his tracks. He ignored the exasperated expression on Samir’s face and turned to André.

“Ennis was almost assassinated tonight.”

André turned ashen. His hand fell away from Gideon and he stepped back. “By you?”

Samir snorted.

Gideon cocked his head, holding André’s stare as he asked, “What if it was?”

André’s lips parted. “What? Are you⁠—”

“Answer the question.” Because André had been demanding things earlier. He wanted Gideon to share shit with him, but he was also planning to leave at the first opportunity. So what would Gideon be left with? Did André even trust him? He didn’t know the answer to that question. “What if I had been the one behind the attempt on your father’s life? What would you do then?”

André’s Adam’s apple shifted on a deep swallow, and Gideon hated himself for the way his gaze clung to that movement.

“Is that a yes? Are you the one who tried to kill my—to kill Ennis?”

Gideon released a harsh laugh. “Your father, yes. That’s who he is.” He stepped closer, into André’s space. “Answer the fucking question,” he gritted out. “If I’m responsible, what would your next move be, huh? You try to avenge him?” He dipped his head in the direction of the bed. “You leave and take your sister out into possible danger? You try to get the authorities involved? Tell me.”

“G.” Samir’s tone held a warning as his hand landed on Gideon’s shoulder, but Gideon shrugged him off.

André glared at him and Gideon glared right back, and when André turned around and strode out, Gideon followed him.

“Answer me.”

“Fuck off.”

Gideon caught up with him in the hallway, grabbing his arm and yanking him to a stop. “Earlier you wanted me to share my shit with you. Remember that?” Ignoring the bodyguards standing a ways off, giving them a wide berth, he pushed André into the wall, using the weight of his body to hold him there. “You wanted me to open up to you as if you don’t already have one foot out the door.”

André’s eyes spit fire at him, his jaw ticking. For the short time they’d known each other, Gideon had come to like looking into his eyes, reading all his facial expressions. He’d come to enjoy the few fleeting moments when he’d had the privilege of feeling André’s body pressed to his. His father had taught Gideon so many things, like how to kill a man, but no one had taught him how to deal with André and the feelings he evoked.

Inconvenient feelings.

But Gideon clung to them with ragged fingernails because they were the only positive thing in his life. The only thing that didn’t feel tainted.

Even though they were. They couldn’t help but be tainted.

He’d hated the way his chest had tightened when he caught the look in André’s eyes the moment he’d recognized his father on that bed. Because it was then that Gideon realized he didn’t know if he could ever have André’s loyalty. André could say all the negative things he wanted about the man who’d fathered him, but there was a yearning in his eyes. A boy wanting what he’d never had—the father figure he was denied.

If there was a choice to be made between Gideon and Ennis, André would choose his father.

Gideon wanted to be the one he chose.

André stopped struggling against him. Instead, his eyes narrowed to flints. “Did you try to kill my father?”

There was no getting closer, not with how tightly plastered Gideon was to him. He felt André’s racing heart, felt the reverberations in his own chest, and inhaled, taking André into his lungs. Gideon touched him, cupping André’s neck with a hand that wasn’t too steady.

Lowering his head, he pressed his forehead to André’s. Their noses lined up perfectly. And his lips were right there for the taking. For the tasting. But Gideon didn’t. Not yet. Instead, he answered in a murmur. “I don’t try. If I wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be here, using up necessary resources, while my doctors fight to save his life.”

André shuddered against him and Gideon gritted his teeth to keep from doing all the things he wanted to when they didn’t have privacy. Like lick him in that spot at the base of his throat where his racing pulse was visible.

“So who did it?”

Gideon shrugged. “Don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

André’s head tipped backward and he gazed up at Gideon. His expression had shifted into something…dare he say, softer? “You saved him?”

Gideon nodded.

“Why?” André didn’t try to escape their position. Maybe he liked having Gideon’s weight on him. God knew Gideon liked having André’s weight on him.

“Because I still have use for him. I need answers from him,” he answered honestly, but it might not have been what André wanted to hear because his gaze dimmed. And he glanced away. “What?” Gideon asked. It wasn’t as if André didn’t know Gideon and Ennis Canto were enemies. One of them was going to die eventually. And it wouldn’t be Gideon.

“Is that how it is for me, too?” André kept his gaze averted. “You save me because I’m useful to you, but you discard me when that’s no longer the case?”

Gideon stared down at him.

When André returned his gaze to him, his eyes were sad. “And you wonder why I have one foot out the door.”

Gideon held the other man’s face in both hands. Lips brushing André’s, he asked, “If I told you that you were safe with me, would you believe me? If I told you there’s nothing I want more than you here with me, would you accept that?”

André’s lips trembled under his. “If it was the truth,” he responded huskily.

Gideon pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “It’s the truth.” His fingers trembled against André’s skin. Fuck. He looked so vulnerable staring up at Gideon. All the plans Gideon had made with his father, the decades of strategy and positioning players exactly where they wanted them on the board, he hadn’t planned on this moment.

His father certainly hadn’t foreseen there’d come a day when their hard work would take a back seat. But it was. It would. Because Gideon for sure wasn’t about to sacrifice André. Not for any reason.

“It’s the truth,” he repeated. Those three words were saturated with wonder, with rightness. Samir could argue all he wanted, but they would have to pivot. And pivot they would. “Stay with me,” Gideon begged. His father was probably turning over in his grave, listening to Gideon beg Ennis Canto’s son for anything. “Please.”

“G.” Samir called his name and Gideon jerked his head up.

The loud beeps and raised voices coming from inside the medical unit registered then. André moved before Gideon did, racing back to the room.

“What happened?” Gideon asked Samir.

“Canto is coding.”

Goddamn it.

13

André sat with his head bowed, hands clasped between his knees as he waited in the hallway outside the med unit. He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel, but he just…

That was his father in there fighting for his life. The man who didn’t want him, who hurt his mother so deeply she never loved anyone else. A man who’d made his disinterest in Gideon plain for everyone to see, and still, André sat there trembling because he didn’t want Ennis to die.

Wasn’t it fucked up?

He thought back to what his life was like a month ago when he didn’t know Gideon Winters and the chaos and danger that surrounded him. When André could pretend he didn’t care that Ennis had no use for him and had chosen one child over another—the sister André had never met but had seen on magazine covers and TV screens. So poised and polished and clearly groomed for greatness.

His eyes burned and he blinked, furious at himself for feeling anything at all. Furious at Gideon for putting him in this situation. Furious at Ennis. At his mother too. He couldn’t count on anyone but himself. He couldn’t trust anyone but himself. Despite Gideon’s sweet words, André refused to allow himself to go down the same road as his mother…

Fall for a wealthy and powerful man only to be discarded when he was done having his fun.

He got up and swallowed before approaching Samir, who stood at the door to the makeshift hospital while Gideon was inside with the doctors.

“I need to leave.”

Samir didn’t look at him. “Gideon wants you to stay here until he’s finished with the doctors.”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “I need to leave this place. This world. I want to go back to mine. Today.”

Samir turned to him then, dark gaze heavy and assessing. He scared André—his silence and the easy way André could see his death reflected in the depths of the other man’s eyes. He was terrifying, but André lifted his chin and held Samir’s stare even though he wanted nothing more than to run and hide.

They called him a coward, Samir’s eyes. But they held no surprise because apparently, Samir expected this of him, for André to tuck tail and run. But this was him protecting himself. He would take his chances out there. After all, being in the company of Gideon and Samir wasn’t all that different, was it?

“Jules and I are leaving today.”

One of Samir’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you?”

Fear flashed in André’s chest. What did that mean? Were they not gonna be allowed to leave? Were they— “You can’t keep us here against our will.”

Samir rolled his eyes and turned away, giving André his back. “Relax. We’re not in the habit of keeping people who don’t want to be kept. But you will wait until Gideon is finished. You can tell him yourself, to his face.”

Did he think André wouldn’t do it? That he wouldn’t tell Gideon the same thing he just told Samir? His mind was made up. He’d long overstayed his welcome. Time to get the fuck out instead of hiding away.

He returned to the bench, sitting with an ankle crossed over his knee as he waited for Gideon to reemerge. Was Ennis dead? Surely Gideon would have already returned if that were the case.

André shook his head at himself. He couldn’t help it, the traitorous part of him that worried about his father’s well-being. He hadn’t known that part existed until today. He’d thought he would hate the man, and he did, but hate wasn’t all he felt.

He lowered his leg and leaned forward, hunched over with his face in his hands. He’d expected to go his entire life without being in the same room with Ennis. All the things he wanted to say to that man. All the questions he wanted to ask. He thought he’d go to his grave never knowing.

Maybe he still would.

Maybe Ennis wouldn’t make it.

How would that make him feel?

He took a deep breath. Someone had tried to kill Ennis. Just as someone had tried to kill Gideon all those years ago and had taken his mother’s life instead. This world, the world Gideon and Ennis inhabited, scared the fuck out of André. He didn’t want Jules anywhere near it.

Didn’t want to be in it.

But he was, wasn’t he?

With Ennis’s blood in his veins and his…attraction to Gideon, he was well and truly in it. And he wanted out. It was the only way to protect himself. To protect Jules.

The sound of the medical unit’s door opening caught his attention and he looked up as Gideon stepped out. André shot to his feet, hurrying over to him.

“How is he?” Those words weren’t supposed to make it to his lips. They should have stayed in his head. But he couldn’t retract them.

Gideon rubbed his forehead. He looked…stressed. Expression heavy, mouth set in a grim line. “They managed to stabilize him, but he still needs to be monitored closely.” He inhaled, then released it, chest and shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “If he makes it through the night, then the doctors are optimistic that he’ll pull through.”

André gulped.

“This one has something he wants to tell you.” Samir nodded in André’s direction, then took off, moving away to give them whatever privacy they could have with armed men all around.

Gideon turned questioning eyes to André. “What is it?”

Looking at him, being so close to him, it took time and effort for the words to make their way to André’s lips, to spill out. “It’s time for Jules and I to leave. We’re grateful for your hospitality but we gotta go.” He folded his arms, body tense as he waited.

Gideon stared at him, a muscle ticking at his left temple. André wanted to break away from that intense scrutiny, from the shock that darkened Gideon’s eyes before it disappeared. Before all expression on Gideon’s face was wiped away. He pressed his lips together and then gave a sharp nod. “Samir, have someone escort André and Jules wherever they want to go.” Then he turned away, striding purposefully back into the med unit.

André blinked. What just happened? He’d expected a fight, an argument, for Gideon to try and get him to change his mind. He hadn’t expected immediate capitulation. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door as if Gideon would magically reappear.

Samir came up to him. “You look disappointed.” He chuckled, but it held no true mirth. “You expected him to beg you to stay?”

André’s mouth opened but nothing came out. He kinda did.

“If I’m correct, he asked you for a chance,” Samir continued. “But your leaving is your answer, isn’t it? You gave up on him, so he’s returning the same energy to you.” He thumped André on the back. Hard. “You made your choice. Now, let’s go.”

Everything Samir said was correct, but it didn’t help the acidic feeling of loss that bloomed in André’s gut. He should be happy. Wasn’t this what he wanted? He’d gotten it. There was nothing left to do but follow Samir to the elevator.

So André did.

Gideon stared out the window, seeing nothing.

It’d been a week since André and his sister left the penthouse, and he honestly didn’t know how he’d made it that long without storming over to André’s place and dragging them back.

Everything in him wanted to do that, but he didn’t. André didn’t want to stay. Gideon couldn’t keep him trapped. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to. Though the idea did flash in his mind for a second when André told him he was leaving.

Gideon hadn’t said goodbye. He’d walked away from André then and hadn’t looked back, hadn’t done shit until Samir told him their guests were gone. They had bodyguards with them because Gideon wasn’t a complete fool, despite the way he felt about André. His men had escorted André and Jules home but they hadn’t left. Gideon ensured they stayed put. Some were positioned in an empty apartment two doors down from André’s, and even more were outside, guarding the building. He’d told them to keep to the shadows, to make sure André and Jules didn’t notice them, but to never leave the two unattended. So Gideon’s men dogged their every step.

He’d received daily reports until it had gotten to be too much, then he had the men report to Samir, who would only involve Gideon if there was an issue.

Nothing had changed for him with André’s departure. It only solidified the knowledge that Gideon had to deviate from the plans he’d made with his father. An unconscious Ennis Canto was recovering downstairs in their medical unit.

That for fucking sure was a deviation from the plan.

Gideon should have put a bullet in the fucker’s head, finishing what whoever tried to kill Ennis had started. But he hadn’t. Partly because he wanted to know who’d done it. And partly because of André and that look in his eyes when he’d gotten his first glimpse of his unconscious father hooked up to the machines keeping him alive.

Gideon had pretended it didn’t gut him, watching André’s face. The idea that he could also someday soon be the reason for that pain in André’s eyes? He could no longer justify it.

Not to himself. Not to his old man. Not to his mother.

He couldn’t hurt André.

So where the fuck did that leave him?

What happened next? And would he ever get the chance to tell André that things had changed, that he had changed?

A knock came on his office door and he spun around just as it opened. Samir stepped in, narrowed eyes assessing before he said, “You canceled the meeting?”

Gideon was supposed to be meeting with business associates, but he’d put it off. He shrugged, looking away from the disapproval in Samir’s eyes. “It can wait.”

His friend sighed. “G, it’s been a week. Either go to him or move the fuck on.”

Gideon refused to give him a response. He wasn’t going to André. That wasn’t happening. As far as moving on… He sat behind his desk and stared up at the other man. “What do we know about who shot Ennis?” he asked, changing the subject. “Anything on the shooters?”

Samir shrugged. “Still nothing.”

“Goddamn it.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. He had his people searching all over for any information they could find about what happened the night Ennis was ambushed and who could be behind it, but so far they’d come up with nothing. The shooters had eluded his guys and disappeared like smoke. It was frustrating and unbelievable that his vast resources hadn’t unearthed not one clue.

“G, The Council keeps calling. They want to set up a meeting to discuss…things.”

They probably wanted to find out what Gideon knew and if he was behind the shooting. He already knew they weren’t behind it, but they didn’t know shit about him. He wasn’t agreeing to a meeting. He wanted them to stew for a while, to wonder about him. “Ignore them. I’ll call a meeting when I’m ready.” Which would be when he had more information.

“And the situation with Ree.”

He sighed. Ree was a tenacious woman, digging into places she shouldn’t. The guys Gideon had on her had reported twice in the past week that she’d been back and forth to the prison where her father was once held. She was searching for answers that Gideon couldn’t allow her to find. “Have Marco deal with Ree.”

One of Samir’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure?”

Now that was the question. Gideon had a soft spot for Ree and he didn’t want her hurt, but there’d been enough fucking changes happening around him and to his plans. Ree was not going to be another. He granted Samir a curt nod. “Get me Marco.”

Samir muttered into his earpiece and minutes later, Marco strode into the office. “What’s up?”

“I need you to take care of Ree.”

Marco didn’t react.

“I don’t want her dead or physically hurt,” Gideon told him. With Marco, you had to be specific. “But I want her out of the way and protected. Do whatever you need to.”

Marco dipped his chin in understanding. “Got it.” He left just as quickly as he came.

With that taken care of, Gideon turned back to Samir. “I need to⁠—”

Samir’s phone went off and he glanced at it, then at Gideon. “It’s the doctor.”

Gideon shot to his feet as Samir answered. They’d been waiting for word on Ennis, who’d been unconscious for so fucking long.

“He’s awake?” Samir asked into the phone. His eyes met Gideon’s. “We’re on our way.” He ended the call and then told Gideon, “He’s awake and demanding to see you.”

Well, that was a surprise. How did he know Gideon was responsible for saving him? He’d been unconscious the moment they’d pulled him from the wreck. “Let’s go.” Ennis had all the answers to the questions floating around in Gideon’s head and he didn’t like it. Didn’t like not knowing shit. It put him at a disadvantage, and that was unacceptable.

Gideon and Samir made their way down to the med unit and were met at the entrance by one of the doctors they kept on staff.

“Sir.” She nodded at Gideon, giving Samir a side glance. Nearly all of the medical personnel were scared shitless of Samir, who loved nothing better. “He’s been examined.”

“And?”

“I am encouraged by the progress he’s made so far.”

“And he’s coherent, asking for me, right?”

“Yes, sir. But you need to keep it short. He needs to rest.”

“I want everyone out,” he told her. He and Samir waited outside as everyone filed out. Then they entered the unit. His father had the foresight to have the facility built when he was first diagnosed, staffing the place with top-of-the-line medical professionals—from nurses to surgeons and everyone in between who were all loyal to the Winters—and equipment. Gideon was damn grateful for it.

With Samir at his side, they entered the area that had been partitioned off for Ennis. He lay on the bed, still hooked up to a bunch of machines, but his eyes were open as he stared at the ceiling. They’d had to perform surgery to remove fragments of bullets from his body and it’d been pretty touch and go for a while.

“Canto.” Gideon stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

Ennis’s eyes flickered first to Samir and then to Gideon.

“You wanted to see me?” Gideon asked.

Ennis’s lips moved before any sound came out. “Where-where is my son?” His voice was low, the words strained and halted, but Gideon heard him just fine.

“What son?” He lifted an eyebrow.

Ennis’s chest rose and fell, his breaths loud and shaky. His appearance was a stark departure from the carefully composed persona he usually presented. He looked pale and exhausted, pain reflected in his eyes and the stiffness of his body. His jaw was covered in a week’s worth of salt-and-pepper scruff. “I know-I know you have André. Bring him to me.”

Huh. “I don’t know what you think⁠—”

Ennis’s jaw ticked in obvious frustration. “I didn’t interfere because he is safer with you.” He paused, breathing harshly. “But he is in danger.”

Gideon tensed. “Explain.” He rounded the bed to stand next to Ennis. “Explain now.”

“She wants him dead.” The effort to keep talking showed itself on Ennis’s face and he lifted a hand, grabbing Gideon’s wrist in a weak grip. “She tried-tried to kill me. Don’t let her get to him.”

“Samir, contact our men on André. Now.” Heart thudding, Gideon asked Ennis, “Who is she? Tell me.”

“Sienna.”

Gideon blinked. “Your daughter?” André’s sister? What the fuck? Sienna Canto was Ennis’s heir—to his vast fortune and businesses and his seat on The Council. As far as the public knew, she was his only child. Why would she want her father and brother dead? How did she even know about André?

Christ, even as he got answers, Gideon had more questions.

“Where is he?” Ennis was fading. “Where is my son?”

Fuck. Fuck! Gideon didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to say it. Because if what Ennis just told him was true… “I let him go.”

Ennis made a hopeless sound, releasing Gideon. His hand fell back to the bed and his head rolled back and forth on the pillow, his skin getting more and more ashen by the second. “Find him. P-please” His breathing was labored, the rise and fall of his chest more pronounced as he begged, “Find…him. Pr-protect…him.”

14

“How long is this silent treatment supposed to go on?” Arms folded, André stood in the doorway to Jules’s bedroom, eyeing her as she reclined on the bed, staring at the TV and pretending not to notice him.

From the moment they’d left Gideon’s place, Jules had made her disapproval of André’s decision quite clear. She’d obviously developed a soft spot for Gideon. André hadn’t told her everything and he suspected she knew that, but he wasn’t going to burden his little sister with all the fucked-up things that were happening. He didn’t see a reason why they should remain at Gideon’s.

André’s attraction to him didn’t count.

They were back home, had been for a week, and were safe. He made sure to check out their surroundings whenever they went out and whenever he was driving, but there’d been nothing to make him think they were in danger. Maybe Gideon had been wrong. Maybe he embellished the whole thing just to keep André with him longer.

Whatever it was, they were away from Gideon’s world now. Which was the best thing for him and Jules. Didn’t mean he didn’t wish otherwise from time to time, but that should go away eventually. Right?

“Jules.” He waited for a response, and when he didn’t get one, he sighed. “Fine. Just…come eat. Dinner’s ready.” He turned away reluctantly, making his way to the kitchen.

He’d tried to get them back into their normal routine since returning home, but Jules wasn’t having it. She was pissed at him, and no one could hold a grudge like a teenage girl.

Jules appeared after he’d set the table and they sat, eating without speaking.

“You and I belong here.” He finally broke the silence. “Gideon’s world is not ours, Jules. We can’t forget that. We had to return to our real world sooner or later.”

“Did we?” She fixed him with an unblinking stare. “Or were you doing what you always do, acting like you don’t need anybody else?”

He frowned, dropping his fork back onto his plate. “I don’t need anybody else.” Why would he? “I have you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m your sister. A teenager. You need someone around who’s your same age, idiot. And someone who actually likes you and wants to be with you.”

He coughed to mask his surprise. “And what, you think that someone is Gideon Winters?”

“It could be.’’ She shrugged and picked up her fork, turning her attention to her plate. “But we’ll never know because you ran away like a coward.”

Another thing teenage girls were good at, calling bullshit. He didn’t give her any credit though, didn’t tell her she might be right. He had felt like a coward as he’d left Gideon’s place. But leaving had been the right thing to do. Despite how he might feel about Gideon, André didn’t belong in that world. He didn’t know that he wanted to be in it. Seeing his father unconscious in that hospital bed, hooked up to machines helping to keep him alive? That shit was scary, and it painted a picture of what life could be like. Gideon hated Ennis. He wanted him dead. And he’d made no secret of his intent to use André to achieve his agenda against Ennis.

Why should André choose to stay with him?

“It was the right thing,” he said out loud.

Jules sighed and put her fork down, rolling away from the table. “I’m going back to my room.”

“You haven’t finished eating.”

“I’m not hungry. You can⁠—”

A loud bang drowned out her words. André jumped to his feet just as two men raced into the room, both of them carrying guns.

Jules screamed.

André grabbed the knife he’d just been using to cut his steak and rushed to stand in front of Jules, hiding her with his body as he brandished the weapon. “Who are⁠—”

“We need to leave,” one of the men said sharply. “Mister Winters wants you back at the penthouse.”

André blinked. What the fuck? His heart was about to leap out of his fucking chest and this was all Gideon?

“What’s happening?” Jules grabbed his hand. “André?”

He squeezed her hand in reassurance as he addressed the strangers. “Listen, I don’t know⁠—”

“Sir, we don’t have time for this.” The second one glanced over his shoulder, then back to André. “There’s been a credible threat made on your life. We need to take you and your sister to safety.”

Was this Gideon trying to force them to return to him? “We’re not leaving.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Jules and I are safe here. I don’t know why Gideon thinks our lives are in danger, but I can assure you, they’re not.”

The second guy put his wrist up to his mouth and spoke into what was clearly a mic. “He’s refusing to come, sir.” He listened, then nodded. “Got it.” Then he turned to André. “You have five minutes to pack whatever you two might need. When that time is up, we’ll be carrying you two out. By force if necessary.”

“You can’t fucking⁠—”

Something wet splashed his face. Jules’s scream pierced his ears and André blinked in time to watch the second guy drop to the floor, half his head missing. The first guy spun, shooting at a target André couldn’t see. Then he dropped too.

André ducked, grabbing a screaming Jules just as two masked men appeared, both carrying what looked like AK-47s.

Oh god. Oh god. No. André froze. The scent of blood filled his nostrils and Jules’s never-ending screams blasted his ears. He could barely stand so he fell to his knees, wrapping both arms around Jules as the masked men casually stepped over the two dead bodies and approached.

“Please.”

“Shut the fuck up.” One of them pointed a gun at Jules, instantly silencing her screams, and André’s heart stopped.

“P-please. Don’t⁠—”

“This all depends on you,” the one with the gun on Jules said. His voice was low, with an accent André couldn’t place.

“What-what do you want?” He didn’t know how he managed to even speak coherently, but protecting Jules was the goal. Whatever they wanted he would give, even if it was his own life. His sister shook like a leaf in his arms, her helpless whimpers hitting him like daggers to the chest.

“You’re coming with us,” the second masked man said. He grabbed André by the arm and yanked him to his feet. “Someone wants a word with you.”

“Dré!” Jules reached for him.

The one holding her at gunpoint pressed the gun to her temple.

“No!” André held out both hands, shaking, stammering. “Please. I’ll go with you. Whatever you want, just don’t hurt her. Please. Please.” Tears streamed down Jules’s face, and he took a step toward her, to comfort her.

A sharp blow to the back of the head sent him to the floor.

“Don’t fucking move. We only need you alive. The girl is disposable.”

“No. No. Jules. Jules.” He held out a hand for her as she reached for him, but the guy took hold of her wheelchair, wheeling her away.

“No!”

She screamed for him. “Please don’t take her,” he begged. “Please don’t hurt my sister. Please. I will do⁠—”

The one with Jules suddenly jerked and stumbled, then he fell face down. Jules kept screaming. The sound of guns going off filled the room, then the second masked man fell to the floor. André scrambled to get to Jules.

“Gideon!”

André blinked, shaking his head. What?

Gideon appeared in his line of sight, kneeling next to Jules, cupping her face and whispering to her. She clung to him, sobbing, and he shoved the gun he held into his waistband before scooping her up out of her chair.

Gideon was there?

Someone helped André up off the floor. Samir.

André couldn’t— “What’s happening?” he asked Gideon.

The other man eyed him up and down, furious anger in his eyes. “How is he?” he asked Samir.

“Physically unharmed.”

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They had to walk over all the dead bodies to leave the room. All of Gideon’s people were there, and they surrounded them as they left the building. André didn’t have the bandwidth to process what was happening, what had happened.

But he knew it was his fault.

Gideon’s men had died because of André.

Jules had been threatened and was scared out of her mind because of André.

Samir, who’d been holding on to André, helped him up into the back of an SUV. He sat next to Gideon, who still had Jules in his arms, her face buried under his chin as he stroked her back gently.

André watched them with a knot in his throat. Gideon represented safety to Jules. She didn’t reach for André because she knew Gideon would protect her, unlike André, who’d led her straight into danger.

A tap came on the door next to Gideon, then it opened and Samir appeared, telling Gideon, “We kept one of them alive.”

“Good.” Gideon’s tone was clipped. “Bring him with us. And somebody find me Sienna fucking Canto.”

Sienna Canto. Ennis’s daughter, Sienna? Why would Gideon— “D-don’t hurt her.”

Gideon’s gaze swung over to him. There was nothing soft in them. Just pure rage that he seemed to be struggling to control.

“Don’t hurt Sienna to get to our—her—father.”

“Oh, I won’t. I will, however, kill her for orchestrating what happened here tonight.”

“W-what?”

Gideon’s gaze bored into him. “Your father is awake. And he has some interesting things to share.”

André ignored the tremors running through his body. It was surreal, all of it. Being back at Gideon’s penthouse. The dead bodies they’d left behind at André’s place. The fact that Gideon had yet to discuss any of it. They’d sat side by side in the SUV, aggression and anger pouring off Gideon in waves.

Yet as Jules clung to him, he comforted her with soothing touches and softly murmured words. André didn’t get any of that, and he didn’t think he’d ever be jealous of his little sister but he’d wanted Gideon to soothe him too. But he wouldn’t. André didn’t expect that from him, not after the mess André had made of things.

Gideon had warned him, and he’d chosen not to listen. Now here they were. Jules traumatized. André unable to do anything but sit there with his mouth shut. He knew for a fact that what happened tonight wouldn’t have happened at Gideon’s place. The penthouse was a fortress, packed full of armed men.

And André chose to go it alone.

He rubbed a shaking hand over his jaw as he followed Gideon and Samir out of the elevator.

“Jules.” Gideon kissed her temple and she let out a whimper, tightening her arms around his neck. “I need to go handle some business with your brother.”

“No.”

André’s heart, already bruised and battered in his chest, ached at the fear in that one reply. He’d done that. He’d allowed that to happen and Jules had decided he wasn’t the person she wanted to comfort her. “Jules.” He touched her shoulder gently. “Gideon will be back.” He didn’t look at the man in question when he said it. “I promise.” Not that his promises were worth anything to her after today.

“How about I take you to your bedroom?” Gideon glanced around and then asked Samir, “Where’s her chair?”

“It’s being brought up.”

“I’ll take you to your bedroom,” Gideon told her. “You can rest there, have the chef make you whatever you want to eat, and then when I’m done, I’ll come back to you and we’ll do whatever makes you happy.” He cupped her face, smiling down at her. “How does that sound?”

For the longest time after their mother died, it’d been André and Jules against the world. He’d been the one to raise her, to guide her through life. He had never given thought to having a partner who could share that role with him. Watching Gideon be so sweet and attentive to his sister, his eyes gentle even with splatters of blood on his clothes, André knew Gideon Winters was a different breed altogether.

And André might have already missed out on him. On experiencing him.

When Jules nodded, Gideon grinned and pivoted, arms around her as she clung to him like a spider monkey as they made their way to “her bedroom”—the one she’d stayed in previously. André followed while Samir remained outside. Inside, Gideon laid Jules on the bed and bent over her, whispering something way too softly for André to hear.

“Chair’s here,” Samir called from outside the door.

André went and retrieved Jules’s wheelchair, parking it beside her bed so she’d be able to access it easily should she need to move about. When Gideon stepped away from her, André knelt at the side of the bed, touching Jules’s cheek. She gazed up at him with wet eyes and the apologies all got bungled up in his throat, choking him.

“Jules, I’m so sorry.”

A sob racked her body and she threw her arms up. He went to her, scooping her up in his arms, whispering his apologies as she cried. When her sobs eased, he wiped her face with his thumb. “I need to go with Gideon, but when I come back, we’ll talk. Okay?” He had to figure out a way to help her deal with what she’d experienced tonight. He refused to allow it to fester into something that would ultimately damage her. Jules was too pure for that. Too innocent. “You’ll be okay,” he reassured her. “You’re safe. Nothing will happen to you here.”

She nodded and he kissed her forehead before easing her back onto the pillows. “Close your eyes. Try to rest. I’ll be back before you know it.” Reluctantly, he stood and walked out of the room.

“One of the guys will be stationed outside her door.”

André tensed at Samir’s words. “Why? Aren’t we safe here?”

“You are,” Gideon said from behind him, voice tight. “But Jules might need something while we’re gone.”

André nodded, swallowing thickly. “Right.”

“Let’s go.” Gideon brushed past him.

Everything about tonight hurt. But Gideon’s attitude hurt the most. And even though André understood it, he still wanted to demand Gideon look him in the eyes because he hadn’t done that since they’d first spoken in the SUV on their way over. He wanted to demand Gideon treat him the way he’d treated André before.

Before André allowed his pride and his fears to fuck it all up.

He didn’t say anything though. Instead, he followed Samir and Gideon to the secret elevator that took them down to the med unit. And to the man lying on that bed, head turned away, eyes closed.

His father.

They’d never met in person, and André had accepted that they never would. Yet here they were.

Ennis’s eyes opened when they entered the room. André hung back, trying to hide between Gideon’s and Samir’s bodies.

“André? My son?”

He’d heard Ennis speak on TV, but hearing his name—filled with worry—coming from the lips of the man who’d rejected him? André’s heartbeat sped up, pulse thudding in his ears. Heat flooded his body and he wanted to turn and run. There was something about not being wanted by a parent. Not being accepted—or even acknowledged—by them. That something was pouring out of him now, hot and toxic.

“Where is my son?” The urgency and panic in Ennis’s voice was a direct contradiction to what André knew and had experienced over the years.

He couldn’t do this. Gideon wanted him to be there, but he didn’t think he could do it. As if aware of André’s spiraling thoughts, Gideon stepped to the side, allowing Ennis’s gaze to fall on André.

He didn’t miss the stark relief that flooded the older man’s pain-creased features.

“André.”

André tore his gaze away from the man who’d fathered him.

“As you can see, he’s here,” Gideon said. “And he’s safe, but if my men and I had gotten to his place just a minute later, he and his sister wouldn’t be alive. Your daughter sent assassins.”

André’s head spun. Nothing made sense. Why would the sister he’d never met want to kill him? How did Sienna even know about his existence? And why was Ennis watching him with such softness in his eyes? Nothing made sense.

“Explain,” Gideon ordered brusquely. “You owe your son and me that much. Explain why your daughter wants him—and you—dead.”

André swallowed a gasp. Sienna was the one who tried to kill Ennis? What the fuck was going on?

Ennis released a sigh. Keeping his gaze on André, he said, “Years ago, I had a health scare. We kept it under wraps, but there was a real chance I wouldn’t have made it. I made some changes to my will. Recently, Sienna was able to get into the paperwork and see that she wasn’t the one I’d named to take over as my proxy on The Council.”

What was The Council?

Gideon clearly knew because he inhaled swiftly. “André is your proxy?”

What was a proxy?

“From the moment he was born.”

Gideon made a sound, swiping a hand over his jaw while André just stood there. It was as if they were all speaking a different language than the one he knew and understood.

“Sienna confronted me. I told her she had a brother and confirmed that they would each be inheriting half of everything I owned.”

“Wait, what?” The words burst from André. “What?”

“She was mad about that, but when I refused to change my proxy to her, that’s when she became livid.” Ennis pursed his lips. “If I’m dead, she can forge paperwork and name herself my proxy since André had no clue about any of it. Or if André’s dead, then she becomes my proxy by default as my only living heir.”

Jesus. These people were something else. This was whose blood ran through his veins? There were a million questions André wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to say, but his throat refused to work. He needed to sit the fuck down.

“You were always in danger being my son,” Ennis said, addressing him directly. “To protect you, I had to ensure that we were never connected, but naming you as my proxy was a selfish act on my part. I wanted my son to have something from me. And I wanted you to know that even though I wasn’t in your life, I never stopped thinking of you or loving you.” His voice got weaker but he kept going, eyes pleading for André to believe him. “I’ve always been proud of you.”

Tears blurred André’s vision but he refused to let them fall. “No.” He took a step backward. And then another. “No.” After everything he’d seen his mother go through, her pain and heartache, he would not be taken in by this man and his words that were decades too late. “I don’t know what any of what you just said meant, but I want nothing from you.” Certainly not Ennis’s businesses or his money. “We can go back to you rejecting me.”

“André.” Ennis’s expression crumpled, but André refused to feel for him. “Please.”

André turned and walked out.

15

Gideon followed André out of the med unit, leaving Samir behind to find out what else Ennis had to say. He rushed after André, finally catching up with him in the elevator headed back up to the penthouse.

Stepping in beside him, Gideon didn’t speak. Truth was, from the moment he’d burst into André’s apartment, he’d struggled to find words, what with his heart being lodged in his fucking throat. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been as scared as he’d been walking into André’s kitchen and seeing the other man on his knees, struggling to protect himself and his sister.

If Gideon had been a minute late—if he’d taken the stairs instead of the elevator—the outcome could’ve been so fucking different. Just thinking it made his chest hurt and had him ready to kill.

Jules had clung to him in the aftermath and Gideon had held on to her just as tightly. She’d soothed him as he’d tried to soothe her, but the anger inside him still blazed hot.

As did the fear and panic.

He still couldn’t make himself stare at André too long, otherwise Gideon would pounce on him, hang on to him and never let him go. He still needed the reassurance that André was fine. That Jules was okay. But they were safe. Gideon had protected them, and they were back where they were supposed to be.

With him.

He stood as close to André as he could, and he felt the confusion and frustration pouring off the other man. With everything that happened tonight, and then add the whole Ennis situation…Gideon knew André had to be reeling. Hell, Gideon was reeling.

When the elevator doors opened up into the penthouse, Gideon uttered one word. “Come.” He stepped out, not checking if André followed; the hesitant sound of footsteps behind Gideon said he did. Gideon led him to his office and closed the door after André entered, then walked over to the bar and poured two drinks.

He turned, holding one out to André. “Drink.”

André took it, waiting until Gideon tossed his back with a grimace before doing the same.

“Shit!” André blinked rapidly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The fuck was that?”

“What you needed. What we both needed.” Gideon poured himself another drink, offering the same to André, who shook his head in refusal. That meant more for Gideon. He hadn’t gotten shit-faced in a very long time, but tonight just might end the drought.

André dropped into a nearby chair with a loud sigh, head bowed, shoulders hunched. Gideon studied him, aching to touch him, but he wasn’t sure that his touch would be welcomed.

“I’m sorry.” André brought his head up, gaze landing—and staying—on Gideon. “What happened tonight—” He blew out a heavy breath. “It wouldn’t have happened if we’d been here. I fucked up.” His voice cracked. “Jules is traumatized because of me.”

Shit. The emotions in his voice, on his face, tore at Gideon. He put his drink down and then went to André, kneeling at his side, taking his hand. “Jules is safe. You’re safe.” The idea that they might not have been—that they could have so easily been taken from him—had Gideon clearing the fear out of his throat. “You didn’t know the true extent of what was going on.” Neither had Gideon, and he still beat himself up about that. He should have looked into Ennis’s daughter before making his plans. He should have asked more questions.

In hindsight, there were so many things he could have—and should have—done to prevent what happened tonight.

“Jules is strong,” Gideon said softly. “We’ll make sure she gets the help she needs. Whatever that looks like.” He hadn’t gotten any help when his mother had gotten killed in front of him. His father had simply whisked him away and left him to deal with all of that by himself. He’d loved his father and adored the fuck out of him, but Aldo had his faults too. He’d made mistakes too. Gideon just needed to ensure he didn’t repeat them.

André gazed down at him, tears shimmering in his eyes though they didn’t fall. “I wish I’d listened to you.”

Gideon wished the same, but what was done, was done. They couldn’t go back and change things. All they could do was move forward. He stroked a finger across André’s wrist. “You’re here now.” He swallowed. “That’s what matters.” All his fucking plans had gone up in smoke and Gideon didn’t even care. He still had a million questions for Ennis, but they could wait. As messed up as he was, thanks to his daughter, Ennis wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you believe him?” André asked. “You believe Ennis?”

Gideon sat back, staring into his eyes as he answered, “I do.” He’d expected Ennis to be a cold, ruthless sonofabitch. And he was. But not when it came to his son. The man clearly loved André. He’d sacrificed a relationship with his son just to protect him, and Gideon understood that. His own father had acted similarly. Aldo had stashed him away, keeping him hidden for years, to protect Gideon from whoever would try to kill him.

Ennis had been Aldo’s top suspect in the assassination of Gideon’s mother, and he knew his father must be rolling over in his grave at the idea that he and Ennis had anything at all in common. But they did.

“What is—What is The Council and that whole proxy thing?” André asked with wide eyes. “It was like the two of you were speaking a whole new language down there.”

Inhaling, Gideon stood and held out a hand. “I’ll explain, but not now. You need some rest.”

“No.” André took the offered hand, allowing Gideon to pull him to his feet. “I need to be with Jules.”

“Okay.” He did promise they would return to her. “Let’s go.”

“Before we go.” André tugged away from Gideon’s grasp and squared his shoulders. “I know what I did, leaving so abruptly, fucked up whatever was building between us, and I’m just…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I allowed my fear to run me off.”

What? “Nothing is fucked up.” And because he couldn’t help it, Gideon hauled André into his chest, cupping the back of his head when the other man pressed his face into the crook of Gideon’s neck. “Nothing is fucked up,” Gideon assured him, ignoring the way his heart raced when André’s warmth washed over him. He wrapped his arms around André, breath leaving him in a rush as a tremor ran through him. André was there, solid and whole. And safe. “Nothing is fucked up,” Gideon whispered in his ear. “You’re here with me, and that’s all that matters.”

André lifted his head, pulling away slightly so their eyes could meet. “And me being here, is that all you want?”

Not even close. “You know it’s not.”

André’s lips curved slightly and the heaviness in his eyes melted a fraction. “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay.” He took Gideon’s hand. “Let’s go see Jules.”

Gideon allowed André to lead, content to follow wherever the other man wanted to take them.

Jules fell asleep on André’s chest. Finally. He and Gideon spent hours with her, distracting her with movies and silly games that she participated in half-heartedly. All André wanted was to take her mind off things, but he knew when morning came he would have to find someone they could trust to talk to her about what she’d experienced.

Something told him getting his sister to do that would be a battle in itself.

For the moment, though, she was asleep. He met Gideon’s eyes, and the other man got up from where he sat at the opposite end of the couch in his huge home theater. When Gideon stood over him, André handed him Jules and then got to his feet.

He studied them for a moment—the way Gideon hugged Jules to his chest as if she was his own flesh and blood. He also recalled the way Gideon had worked overtime to make Jules smile tonight, teasing her, promising outrageous things that had André rolling his eyes, if only she would smile for them. The other man cared for Jules, that much was obvious, and André softened even more toward him.

Silently, they walked back to Jules’s bedroom, where Gideon laid her on the bed gently, smoothing her hair away from her face while André pulled the blanket up over her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and Gideon dragged his knuckles down her cheek. Her lashes fluttered but she didn’t wake.

André straightened and tapped on Gideon’s shoulder when he kept staring down at Jules. “Come on,” he whispered. A part of him wanted to remain in the room with her, didn’t want to take his eyes off her, but he forced himself to step away. “Let her sleep.” God knew she needed it.

Gideon turned away from Jules reluctantly and together they exited, André flipping off the lights before closing the door softly behind them. He nodded to the guard Gideon had posted outside…in case Jules needed anything, he’d told André.

Outside Jules’s door, André hesitated. He didn’t feel like going to bed; he knew what he wanted instead, but sudden trepidation had him hesitating, the words stuck somewhere in the back of his throat.

“André.” Gideon touched his face, and André blinked at him as the other man stepped into his space, their chests brushing. He smelled warm, intoxicating, and immediately saliva flooded André’s mouth. “Come with me.” His voice was all gravel, abrading André’s skin. Making him shudder.

That invitation wasn’t an innocent or simple one. André knew that. Promises darkened Gideon’s eyes, promises André would insist he followed through on. “Okay.”

Gideon licked his lips before they curved into a hint of a smile. He didn’t speak again, taking André’s hand instead, linking their fingers as they strode away. André focused only on where they were connected, where they touched. The feel of Gideon’s hand in his.

Heat spiraled through him, originating in his groin, hardening his dick to the point of being uncomfortable, then spreading. His breath hitched. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything or anyone more than he wanted Gideon Winters. Maybe this was all a mistake, but he wouldn’t regret making it.

In fact, he looked forward to it.

So, he let Gideon lead them away, and he followed the other man into the dark recesses of his bedroom that smelled subtly of Gideon. André immediately inhaled deeply, taking that scent into his lungs. The door closed at his back, then the light came on.

He turned away from the huge bed covered in white sheets and faced Gideon, who watched him with eyes turned bright with hunger. He hungered for André. Just the thought sent André’s heart off at a gallop.

“Gideon.” It took effort to speak.

“I thought about having you in here so many times.” Gideon’s tone was hushed as he stepped forward. He loved getting all up in André’s space, but André didn’t mind it, not then. Not at all. As he studied Gideon, the other man swallowed, the movement of his Adam’s apple oddly erotic in the way it slid along his throat. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance.”

Because André had been so wishy-washy when dealing with him. But that was over and done. He knew what he wanted and he would take it for however long Gideon wanted to give it to him. “I’m here now,” he whispered, cupping Gideon’s cheek. “What do you want to do to me?”

Gideon’s tongue flicked out, gliding along his bottom lip as flames leaped in his eyes. “I want to fuck you. I want you perched on my dick, crying out my name.”

Fuck. André swallowed, a spasm rocking his body. Fuck.

Gideon moved then, backing André up until he was trapped between two immovable objects: Gideon and the wall. He pressed a hand to Gideon’s chest, nails curling to dig into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. “Gideon.”

The other man made a sound, hungry, rumbling, and dipped his head, pushing his nose into the crook of André’s neck as André struggled to remain upright on legs that were basically cooked spaghetti at that point.

“Just like that.” Gideon nipped him, teeth sharp, that pinch of pain so fucking sweet. André bucked against him. “I want to feed you my dick until you speak my name just like that. Like you’re drowning and I’m the air you need to survive.” His tongue dragged along André’s neck, drawing a soundless cry.

André tipped his head back, hips hitching to press up against Gideon, seeking his heat, his hardness. His dick pulsed a rhythm that matched the racing of his heart. He wanted that too, what Gideon just said. He wanted all of it.

And so much more.

Gideon lifted his head then, taking André’s face in hands that trembled, peering into his soul with lust-darkened eyes. “And I want to kiss you until you taste like me. And I taste like you.”

André didn’t know if he’d survive Gideon Winters with his soul intact. But he didn’t care. He held the other man’s gaze as he slid down his body, landing on his knees at Gideon’s feet. Anchoring himself with a hold on Gideon’s belt buckle, André told him, “Feed me your dick then.”

16

It felt like a dream, staring down at André on his knees. Gideon’s heart raced, dick hard and aching, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was a pain that made his mouth water, that made his muscles quiver as he struggled to remain still, to allow André to make the first move. And still, he had to grit his teeth when André licked his lips, holding his gaze as he unbuckled Gideon’s belt and tugged it out of the loops before tossing it aside.

Breath stalled and straight-up died in Gideon’s chest when André unzipped him and reached inside, palm wrapping around Gideon’s length and pulling him out. He didn’t have it in him to hide even a fraction of what he was feeling at what André did to him. He pulsed in the other man’s grip.

“Fuck.” The curse left him unbidden. “I’ve thought about this a million times,” he confessed in a hoarse, jagged whisper.

André squeezed him, the corners of his mouth lifting. Lust had darkened his eyes and had his nostrils flaring. “Yeah? What else did you think about?”

He wanted to talk. He had Gideon’s dick in his hand and he wanted to talk, when all Gideon wanted was to tunnel to the back of his throat and take up residence there. “I thought about you wrapped around my dick.” The words came out harshly as the fire in his blood burned hotter and hotter. “Your throat, your hole. Doesn’t matter.”

Another curve of André’s mouth and he dipped his head, spitting on the tip of Gideon’s cock. Gideon bucked.

“André—” He choked when André used his spit and Gideon’s pre-cum to jerk him. Grip tight, stroke slow and steady, André maintained eye contact as Gideon’s stomach went concave and his knees buckled. “Ah, fuck! Fuck.” He threw his head back, hips thrusting forward into André’s grasp, fucking his fist over and over.

The pressure at the base of his spine swirled, got hotter, and his lashes dropped, eyes closing as he sank into that pleasure. The experience of André touching him after all those times Gideon fantasized about it—all those times he fucked his fist and his mattress wishing for this moment—was exquisite. He’d give away all the money, all the power, to possess it, to have it always.

Warmth settled around the tip of his cock and he jerked, eyes flying open. He was inside André’s mouth, and it was all that Gideon had hoped for and more. “Goddamn, that’s it.” He bucked his hips faster and faster as André’s tongue flicked over him, tracing the length of him, probing the underside of his crown. “Yesss.” Gideon reached down with a hiss, palming the back of André's head, his hips speeding up. “Perfect,” he grunted. “You’re perfect.” All he had to base that on was André bobbing on his dick, moaning around him, but fuck if it wasn’t everything.

He sucked Gideon’s dick as if his throat was dry and Gideon had the life-saving water to remedy that. Gideon felt as if that was the truth; he had the cure for whatever ailed André, so he held the other man’s head steady, applying pressure until André had no trouble but to hold still…

“Open wide.”

André did, eyes sparkling with the same shit that had Gideon wanting to say fuck it to everything except them, this. Teeth in his bottom lip, one hand on the back of André’s head, the other on the base of his dick, he guided himself to André’s mouth.

Inside.

Feeding himself in and deeper. And in and deeper. Until André’s nails sank into Gideon’s hips. Digging. Cutting. Until his eyes bulged, nostrils flaring as he struggled to breathe and his throat contracted around Gideon.

“Mmmm. I thought about this too,” Gideon whispered to him. He struggled to find the words because his brain was damn near fried, turning to mush with all that pleasure from the way André’s throat tightened around him, collapsing, contracting.

The best fucking feeling ever.

“Staying parked right here until your eyes beg me to let you breathe.” He angled his hips, inching forward another inch, maybe less. Tears glittered in André’s eyes like diamonds, but they didn’t fall and those pretty eyes didn’t beg; he just tipped his head back fuller into Gideon’s grip, giving him more room to work. Gideon pulled back, easing out slowly, gently, barely giving André time to breathe before he was driving in again.

Over and over, fucking André’s mouth, snapping his head back with every surge forward.

“You’re beautiful.” He could barely stand at this point. The heat of André’s mouth, the pleasure, they were incinerating him from the inside out and he wasn’t sure how he was managing to form a coherent thought, but he wanted André to know. “You’re beautiful,” he said as he fucked his face.

André blinked then, and the tears that had been making his eyes shine so brightly slid down his cheeks. Gideon caught one with a thumb, then brought it to his mouth, licking it off with a groan. “Fuck, even your tears are perfect.” He thrust forward. “Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered. “Watch what you do to me. Watch me come for you.” He didn’t want to come for anyone else. Didn’t want to be with anyone else. And the thought of André being with anyone else— He gritted his teeth, hips rolling, thrusting in and out of André’s mouth, loving the other man’s groans, his grunts, the acceptance and pleasure that crossed his face even as tears and snot rolled down it.

Nobody sexier. Nobody more perfect.

Gideon dug his toes into the floor beneath him as his body gave up, gave out. The orgasm snapped out of its restraints, blasting through him and bowing his body. It was only André’s painful grip on his hips that kept him upright as he emptied himself into the other man’s mouth.

André gurgled and choked, but he didn’t try to move away from it. He maintained his position, taking everything Gideon had and more. Gideon retreated, grasping the base of his shaft, the last of his cum splattering on André’s chin and neck as he doubled over coughing, crashing on all fours.

Gideon followed him down onto the floor, movements restricted by the pants that had gotten caught up around his ankles. Pushing André backward, Gideon yanked away his shoes then the offending pants from around his ankles, then climbed André’s writhing body. He was a coughing mess lying on his back. Gideon kissed him, sinking his tongue into his mouth, swallowing his cough, tasting himself on André’s tongue as he shoved a hand between them, hurriedly undoing the buttons on André’s jeans and unzipping him. Reaching under the waistband of André’s underwear, Gideon gripped his cock, already wet and pulsing.

“Come for me,” Gideon spoke against his lips. “I want it, so give it to me.”

“Unnngh. Gi-Gideon.” André clutched him, hips jerking, legs scrambling in a futile effort to wrap around Gideon’s waist. “Oh god! Oh fuck!” His eyes were squeezed shut, body undulating violently as he reached his climax, filling Gideon’s palm.

Gideon kept touching him, stroking him as André spasmed, little breathy sounds falling from his lips as his head lolled back on the floor, eyes closed. Gideon kissed him—his forehead, his nose, his lips, his chin. He couldn’t stop kissing him. Couldn’t stop touching him. André came, but he wasn’t soft yet. He remained thick and heavy in Gideon’s grasp. Dick wet, sticky, and twitching as if wanting more.

Needing more.

Just the way Gideon needed more.

Pulling his hand away, he sat back on his haunches, gazing down at André, whose lashes lifted slowly. Stretched out on the floor still fully dressed, his dick hanging out of his jeans and dots of Gideon’s cum drying on the underside of his chin, there was nobody as beautiful as André Tesfaye.

He blinked at Gideon, gaze unfocused, teeth marks on his bottom lip. Holding his gaze, Gideon brought his palm, filled with André’s cum, up to his mouth, licking it off as André watched, lips parted. His chest heaved and Gideon eyed the movement greedily.

Hungrily.

“Take my clothes off.” André's softly spoken words pierced the lust-thickened silence around them. “Then put that dick inside me.”

André didn’t remember how they got from the floor to the bed, but he couldn’t say that he cared. Not when Gideon’s warm skin slid along his, drawing out soft sighs and whimpers from his mouth.

Gideon crouched above him, nestled between his thighs, trembling hands cradling his face, eyes piercing as he gazed down at André. His flavor lingered on André’s tongue, and whenever André swallowed, he felt Gideon in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. His dick jerked at the thought.

His mouth watered.

He wanted so much more, and he already knew Gideon would give it to him. He touched André with greedy, possessive hands, and André didn’t mind because he felt the same way.

Gideon dipped his head, kissing André’s neck, licking his collarbone.

A groan left André as he arched, legs restless, dick begging for relief that Gideon seemed intent on prolonging. “Gideon.”

“Hmm.” He lifted his head. “You know what this means, don’t you?” His voice was like cut glass, sharpened by the need in his eyes, the arousal tinting his cheeks. Holding André’s gaze, he dragged a hand down André’s chest and stomach, fisting his dick.

André trembled, muscles aching as he tried to hold still, but that battle didn’t last long as he found himself pushing into the grip that wasn’t nearly as tight as he wanted it to be.

Lips curving, Gideon lowered his head until their noses bumped and their lips brushed. “You know what this means?”

All André knew was that if Gideon didn’t fuck him soon he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. “G-Gideon, please⁠—”

Gideon squeezed him, tongue flicking out to drag across André’s bottom lip. André opened his mouth for him and Gideon’s tongue plunged inside. He sobbed into the kiss, bucking into Gideon’s fist, fucking himself, chasing the orgasm that was right there, so close, so fucking⁠—

Gideon’s hold slackened and he broke the kiss abruptly.

André whimpered.

“The moment I give you my cock, you’re mine,” Gideon murmured against his lips. “Mine, André.” He released André’s shaft and dragged a finger lower, over his balls, tracing his hole, then dipping inside in shallow thrusts.

André moaned, ass coming off the bed. It’d been a long time since he’d allowed himself to be in this position with anyone. A long time. And now the hunger he’d been struggling with from the moment he’d met Gideon roared through him and he couldn’t contain it any longer, couldn’t fight it. All he could do was close his eyes and beg to be consumed.

“Please.” He’d never been the begging type. But then again, he’d never fucked someone like Gideon Winters. He’d turned André into a beggar in no time flat.

Gideon’s hand left him and the snap of a cap opening reached his ears. André kept his eyes closed, both hands fisting the sheets, legs wide, cock dripping. He wanted everything Gideon offered. Anything.

That was reckless and would no doubt come back to bite him in the ass, but he didn’t care. He wanted Gideon in his ass, wanted him stretching him out the way he damn near rearranged André’s tonsils.

Slick fingers pushed into him and he cried out, legs lifting to the ceiling, hips rolling. He clenched around them and Gideon hissed.

“Fuck, the way you squeeze me.”

Heat washed over André. The pleasure in Gideon’s voice was like a fucking aphrodisiac in itself. He opened his eyes and found Gideon staring down between them, watching his fingers tunnel in and out of André. Digging his heels into the mattress, André rocked back on those digits, fucking them with loud moans.

Teeth in his bottom lip, Gideon glanced up at him and winked before he dipped his head, licking a wet trail up the length of André’s cock that lay dripping atop his lower belly.

A cry swelled in his throat only to get choked off when Gideon sucked his cock head into his mouth, tongue flicking over him while his fingers kept up their torture, ramming into André over and over.

André dropped his head back on the pillow, moans—his and Gideon’s—filling the room as he fucked the other man’s mouth while Gideon stretched him out with two fingers. The heat in his belly grew hotter and hotter, shaking his limbs, making him undulate. His toes curled into the mattress.

“Oh, fuck! Gideon, please!” He didn’t want to come without Gideon inside him.

Gideon released his dick but kept right on destroying André with those fingers. “Are you mine?”

André barely heard him, he was too busy shaking as those fingers glided over his prostate. “Fuck!” Pleasure zinged through him—too intense, too much.

“Are you mine?” Gideon asked again. His thrusts grew harder, deeper, punishing too, and André writhed, struggling to keep his eyes open, to form a coherent thought. “Are you mine, André?”

“Yes!” he screamed. “I’m yours. Fuck. I’m yours, Gideon.”

The fingers disappeared and then Gideon was pushing into him. André spread wide for him, hands on his taut ass, urging him on as Gideon eased inside.

Everything in André shut down. He was overloaded, could barely speak. Gideon filled him with no room to spare, hard and thick and pulsing.

“Fuck,” Gideon bit out a hoarse curse. “Goddamn, you’re so tight.” He moaned, dick jerking inside André, hands coming up to frame André’s face. He panted, breath blasting André, lips grazing his cheek. “The perfect fit.”

André clutched him, arching as Gideon kept right on going until there was nowhere else to go. Until André was stuffed full of him. The heat from before was nothing compared to the heat of Gideon inside him. He reached up, gripping Gideon’s hair, pulling his head down, kissing him. He poured every ounce of what he was feeling into the kiss, giving Gideon all his sounds, all his moans and groans, when the other man eased back.

He lit André up, made everything in him come alive. Only to kill him with one smooth stroke when he pushed right back inside. To the brim. André was stuffed to the brim and the pleasure was like nothing he’d experienced ever.

Exquisite and dangerous. He probably would’ve been afraid of it if he wasn’t already so lost to it. Lost in their kiss. In the way Gideon held him, fucked him, moaned for him.

Lost to the multitude of sensations Gideon elicited in him, from him.

He fucked André slow and steady, every stroke hitting every sensitive spot inside André, making his eyes water and his body clench. Gideon had promised this, maybe not with words, but his every action, their every interaction, had promised this.

Now, he was delivering.

More than that, he was giving André everything he didn’t even know he wanted in a partner.

Legs around his waist, ankles crossed over Gideon’s ass, André met him stroke for stroke, breaking the kiss to bite down on Gideon’s shoulder to muffle his cries when Gideon’s thrusts sped up. They were hard and rough now, banging against André’s spot, weakening him so that he could hardly hold on to Gideon.

The most he could do was lay there and stare up into the feral eyes of the man above him. Gideon didn’t take his gaze off André, not once, and that, too, weakened André. That, too, had him feeling like he was already lost.

“You. Are. Mine.” Gideon punctuated each word with a thrust. And André dug his nails into the other man’s sweat-slicked back, feeling the rightness of that claim down to his bones. “Am I yours, huh?” He swiveled his hips, changing up his angle. “Am I yours?” he asked in André’s ear as he leaned to one side, squeezing a hand between them to wrap around André’s length.

“Fuck!” André arched off the bed, dick jerking in Gideon’s grip.

“Am I yours?” Gideon stroked him, dick in André’s ass, hand around his shaft. He stroked André until he was crying out, shaking hard enough to rattle the bed.

“Yesss.” He gave them both the answer they wanted, but it was the truth. “You’re mine,” he told Gideon. His eyes struggled to stay open, but he didn’t miss the strained grin on Gideon’s face, the way the tendons in his neck stood out.

“Then come for me,” Gideon ordered in a skin-tightening rasp. He pistoned in and out of André. “Come with me.”

All he had to do was ask. Because between one stroke and the next, André cried out, body spasming as he exploded. Coming in Gideon’s grip. As if from far away, he heard Gideon’s almost-pained hiss, felt the kick of Gideon’s cock inside him, then the warmth of his release.

Something about that heat. About that sticky claim. He was fucking glad they’d decided on no condoms earlier. His body shook in the aftermath of his climax, Gideon’s too, and André clung to him, face buried in his sweaty throat.

Holding on for dear life.

17

“I have to leave.”

That was the third time Gideon had uttered those three words since he’d woken up in André’s arms. And like the two previous times, André held on to him tighter, mumbling his disapproval.

They’d spent all night fucking only to open their eyes this morning and go right back at it. Gideon was sore in ways he hadn’t been ever. His arms and legs felt like limp fucking noddles, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to leave that bed, didn’t want to leave André.

“Don’t you ever take a day off?” Sprawled on top of Gideon, André’s lips brushed against his throat.

Gideon chuckled, running his fingers along the other man’s nape. “Day off? For what?”

André released him abruptly and sat up. Gideon didn’t like that. He didn’t like that André’s weight was no longer on him, that his arms were no longer around him, that his breath wasn’t washing over his skin, keeping him sweating.

“Are you serious?” André regarded him with a raised eyebrow, expression incredulous. “Gideon, you don’t take days off?”

“To do what?” He reached for André, smoothing a hand down one shoulder, a smile building when André’s eyes softened, lashes lowering. Underneath the covers, Gideon’s shaft perked up, fighting for its life, wanting another go at sliding right back inside André’s tight heat.

At his question, André blew out a breath, shaking his head.

“Hey.” Gideon squeezed him gently. “What?”

“Take the day off. Spend it with me.”

“I can’t. I have meetings.” He had to go back downstairs to see Ennis. Plus, he had to check in on how the hunt was going for Sienna fucking Canto. There was that other person he’d tasked the team with finding…

“You can.” André leaned over, cupping Gideon’s face. “You’re Gideon Winters, you can do anything. Including take a day off to spend with me.” His expression faltered for an instant. “Unless that’s not what you want.”

The only thing Gideon wanted was him. In any way he could get him. He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to André’s. “What would we do?” he asked. “If I cancel my meetings and play hooky with you, what would we do?”

André shrugged, eyes shining. “You have a whole cinema downstairs. We can watch movies, play games, eat junk food⁠—”

“With Jules?”

André blinked and swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah,” he answered huskily. “With Jules.”

Gideon kissed him again, grabbing the back of his head and delving between his soft lips with a groan. André whimpered, his hands falling to grip Gideon’s shoulders. Gideon was lost in him, in the taste of him, shuddering when André’s tongue twisted around his.

He was the best kisser Gideon ever had. The best everything. Because André did it all with reverence, with newness, with his entire being. He was a full-on experience that Gideon wanted to immerse himself in. He wanted to sink into him until he was submerged up to the top of his head in André.

When the other man fell backward on the bed, Gideon tore away the sheets wrapped around them and climbed him. André’s eager legs did what they’d done all night—what they’d been doing all morning—they parted for him. And as they were both naked, their bodies came together, lining up perfectly.

Gideon hissed when their cocks bumped and rubbed.

“Mmm, fuck. Gideon.” André arched for him, hips jerking. “I want you again but fuck, I’m sore.”

Gideon ignored the thrill of satisfaction that shot through him. He had spent a long time inside André. “You’re not the only one who likes getting fucked, you know.” He dropped an openmouthed kiss on André’s jaw, still rolling his hips as they rubbed against each other. “My body’s right here,” he murmured against André’s lips. “Waiting to be used by you.”

“Oh, I—” André blinked up at him, cupping the back of his head to hold him still. “I didn’t know if you—if you bottomed.”

It’d been a while, but— “I do. Do you top?”

“I’ve never, no.”

Who the hell had he been with that none of his previous lovers wanted to feel him inside them? Fucking idiots. “Do you want to?” Gideon asked him.

André swallowed with an audible click. “Yes.”

Gideon smirked and planted a loud kiss on his lips before easing away from him and sitting back on his haunches. “Then grab the lube.” Which he seriously hoped wasn’t all done with the way they’d been using it.

As André did what Gideon asked, Gideon got onto his stomach on all fours. Ass in the air. Knees apart. Back arched so André could see him, all of him. He glanced over his shoulder to find André with the lube in his hand, mouth agape, gaze trained exactly where Gideon wanted.

“Stretch me,” Gideon ordered throatily. “I want to feel you and I don’t want to wait.”

That first touch, André’s trembling fingers skating over his hole, had him drawing in a deep breath and fisting the sheets. Then the finger pushed in.

“Hmm.” That groan was deep and rattling. “Yes. Fuck, baby. I need more of those digits. One isn’t enough.”

“Gideon.” André breathed his name.

“Fuck me with your fingers.” Gideon was trying for an order, but that came out sounding like desperate begging.

“You’re so tight.” André’s voice was filled with wonder as he added another lubed finger, sinking slowly into Gideon.

Gideon moaned, eyes closed, forehead pressed to the pillow. “Because no one’s been there for a very long time. I’ve been waiting,” he confessed. “Waiting for you.” He’d never been a big talker when it came to sex, but André brought that out in him and he just wanted to be vocal, to ensure the other man knew the power he held, the control he had over Gideon.

Lips brushed his lower back as André’s thrusts got more confident and he delved deeper.

“Ah fuck. Yesss.” Gideon rocked his hips, fucking the bed, grinding his leaking cock into the mattress as he trembled, moaning. “Yes. Harder, baby. I won’t break.”

André clearly believed him because he started fucking Gideon in earnest, those digits digging deep, sending fire shooting through Gideon’s body. His cock leaked as he clenched around André’s fingers. They were good, but they weren’t enough.

“Come inside me.” His voice trembled but he didn’t care. He lifted his head, blinking to clear his vision as he looked over his shoulder. André’s teeth were in his bottom lip, nostrils flared, heavy gaze locked on where his fingers were disappearing inside of Gideon. “André, come inside.”

His head jerked up then, movements stilling. “You’re sure?”

Fuck, there wasn’t anything Gideon was more sure of than this moment. “Yes.” And he watched, muscles straining, body aching, clenching, as André slicked himself up, then took his shaft in hand and brought it to Gideon’s entrance.

He pressed in.

“Unnghh.” Gideon’s head fell forward and his eyes closed.

“F-fuck.” Clenched around Gideon’s hips, André’s fingers trembled. “Gideon.”

“I know. Breathe for me.” Because he did understand the lust-filled panic in André’s voice. And as much as he wanted to keep his eyes closed and give himself over to the insane pleasure threatening a knockout, he forced himself to focus on André, to guide him because this was his first time. “Keep going. Keep going for me.” Just the head was in and that was already so much, heavy and thick, stretching Gideon with a sting, but he didn’t mind it.

He liked it.

Liked it even more when André shifted and sank in a little bit more. Since André was pressed up against the back of Gideon’s thighs, Gideon felt his body shake, felt the moan that traveled through the other man’s core and fell from his lips.

“All the way in.” Gideon’s voice was a mess, husky, filled with the struggle of his restraint. “I want you all the way in, baby. Fuck, you feel so good.”

André made a sobbing sound, hips flexing, continuing forward until finally, he bottomed out. Gideon squeezed his eyes shut, knuckles aching as he fisted the sheets. He was full, body stretched to fit, to wrap around André’s thickness.

“Gideon.” André’s lips brushed against the middle of Gideon’s back, nails digging into him.

“Move.” Yes, he was just plain begging now. Ass pushing back on André, rolling. “You’ve got me face down with my ass up for you. Fuck me the way you want to.” It was the way Gideon wanted him to.

André eased back, drawing a deep, drawn-out moan from Gideon, then he thrust right back in.

“Fuck!” Gideon yelped. “More, fuck. Don’t stop.” He rocked back on the dick inside him, clenching around it. “That’s it.

“Shit, Gideon.” He’d found his stride, and they both rode it, André driving in and out of him, strokes hard and punishing. “I can’t—So good.”

“Mmm, yeah.” But good didn’t do it justice. The sound of their bodies slapping together, the rocking of the bed, the ache in Gideon’s joints. Fuck, even the burn and stretch. He loved it. He shifted upward until he was on his knees. André clung to him, an arm around his middle to hold him in place, the other in his hair as he fucked Gideon.

Deep and hard, nailing his spot. Every one of Gideon’s nerve endings roared out their pleasure.

He took himself in hand, stroking, fucking his fist as André lit him up from the inside out. “Harder,” he demanded. “Harder.” Sitting down would be uncomfortable later, but he didn’t care. His grunts got louder, mixing with André’s breathless cries. “You feel that?” He bore down. Clenching on André, reaching out for him with his free hand when the other man cried out, movements faltering. He wrapped his arm around André’s neck. “You feel that? That’s how you feel to me. That’s how I know I would kill for you. That’s how I know I would die for you.” He jerked himself off harder, faster, toes digging into the mattress, ass rippling around André, who sank his teeth into Gideon’s shoulder. “Fuck, yeah, mark me up."

“Please! I can’t— I’m gonna—” André choked and Gideon turned his head. André's mouth was right there.

“Come,” he whispered against André’s lips. “Dump all of it inside me.” André’s breath hitched and Gideon kissed him, swallowing his cries, feeling all of it when André let go, when he came, ribbons of heat shooting deep inside him.

It triggered Gideon and he came then too, a hoarse cry tearing from his throat as he bucked into his fist, filling his palm with cum. His hips kept jerking, ass kept clenching, and André remained plastered to his back, twitching dick still inside him even as cum dripped down Gideon’s ass and the backs of his thighs.

His body gave out and he crashed forward, onto his stomach.

But André remained inside him, on top of him.

Their heavy, desperate pants filled the room, their sweat-slicked bodies spasming with aftershocks. Gideon’s throat burned and felt raw. Hell, every part of him felt raw.

“Are you okay?” he managed to ask after a long while.

“Fuck.” André chuckled and the movement forced his softened shaft to slide out of Gideon. They both hissed. When André settled beside him on the bed, Gideon grabbed him, tugging him to his side. “I feel like you wrung me dry.”

Gideon grinned. “Good.”

André rolled his eyes but Gideon simply kissed him on the nose just as his phone went off. André sighed and went to move away, but Gideon held on to him as he retrieved the phone from the nightstand. Seeing it was Samir calling, he brought it to his ear while holding André’s gaze. “Yeah.”

“He’s here.”

“Okay. Give me ten.” He hung up and told André, “I’ll spend the day with you.”

André’s eyes widened. “You will?”

“With you and Jules, but I have this one meeting I need to take.” He brushed his lips over André’s. “I won’t be long. Twenty minutes tops.”

“Okay.”

Gideon deepened the kiss, then pulled away. “Jules will decide what we do.”

André barked a laugh. “I feel like you’ll come to regret that decision.”

Getting off the bed, Gideon chuckled. “I trust Jules.” He gave André a wink as he made his way to the bathroom to wash up. He didn’t have time for a shower, not that he wanted one. He quite liked the idea of feeling André’s cum inside him as he went to this particular meeting.

Back in the bedroom, André remained in bed while Gideon quickly got dressed. And after another lingering kiss, Gideon left him there, with their sex still written all over his body.

Samir waited for him outside in the hallway, a smirk on his stupid face.

“Finally took my advice, I see.”

“Fuck off.” But that only had Samir chuckling. Gideon grinned at him as they made their way downstairs. The sexual part of his and Samir’s relationship didn’t last for very long, and he was grateful for that because they were better friends than lovers. “Where’d you have them put him? He came alone?”

“In your office. And yep.”

“Okay.” He released a sigh, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I need coffee.”

“I’ll have someone bring it up,” Samir told him.

He also needed a soak to deal with his aching body. But that would have to wait. Whenever he got around to taking a bath, André would be right there with him.

They arrived at his office to find Kaleb and Will standing outside, acting as guards.

Will looked him over, her lips twitching. “Busy night?”

Kaleb snickered.

Gideon flipped them off and strode past, walking into his office. One man stood there waiting for him. Tall and skinny, with a bald head and dark brown skin, dressed in a gray sweater and khaki slacks. He met Gideon’s gaze with rounded eyes peering through thick-rimmed glasses.

“Gideon Winters? Holy shit!”

Gideon nodded. “That’s me. And you’re Ty Levins. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Because he was a fucking nuisance. And André’s ex.

18

Gideon could’ve easily had any one of his people deal with Ty Levins. But here he was, face-to-face with André’s annoying ex. A man who refused to stop reporting André’s and Jules’s disappearance to the cops. Gideon had thought about killing him, but he’d ultimately put that as a final resort.

This was Ty’s last chance, though. And Gideon wanted to look him in the eye when he said what he had to say. He felt a momentary twinge of regret for not telling André what he was up to, but he already knew what his now-lover would say.

André wouldn’t want his ex hurt, but Gideon didn’t have such qualms. Ty was poking his nose where it didn’t belong and Gideon would offer up one warning only.

“So, uh…” Ty licked his lips and glanced around. “What— Why am I here? Not that I’m not stoked to meet the Winters in person,” he rushed to clarify. “But how do you know who I am?”

Gideon strode past him, taking a seat behind his desk and leaning back when Ty faced him. “You reported someone missing recently.”

Ty’s eyes got bigger. “What? You-You know what happened to André?” He placed both hands flat on the desk, leaning over to peer at Gideon. “You know where he is?”

“Why do you think something happened to André?”

Ty paused and straightened, confusion narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. “How do you know André?”

“Who is André to you?”

Ty crossed his arms, jaw tightening. “I’m not answering any of your questions until you answer mine.”

Oh, he thought he was the one in control. Gideon smirked. “Didn’t André and Jules show up safe and sound the first time you reported them missing?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you think the cops keep laughing you out of the station, hm?”

“How do you know that? What do you know?” Suspicion colored the rapid-fire questions.

“I know you are out of your fucking league and way too invested in the comings and goings of a man you’re no longer in a relationship with.”

Ty blanched. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he shook his head. “Who are you?”

Gideon shrugged and got to his feet. “Just someone trying to keep you from making an even bigger fool of yourself.” He sighed. “You should get over André and put your attention where it needs to be, on your grandmother and that precious little boy of yours.”

Ty’s jaw damn near hit the floor.

Gideon gave him the smile he reserved for his enemies. “T.J. That’s his name, right?” Ty couldn’t seem to find his words, so Gideon kept talking. “Such a shame, what happened to his mother. To die like that.” He shook his head. “So sad. Especially not knowing what really happened and wondering if it could happen to you. ”

“You’re threatening me?” Ty found his voice it seemed. He took a step toward Gideon, then stopped. “You’re threatening me.” That last statement was filled with shocked wonder. It was as if the reality of things had just suddenly dawned on him.

“Threats?” Gideon threw his head back with a laugh. “Of course not.” When he met Ty’s gaze again, his voice was hard. “I’m just a concerned citizen, hoping you don’t make a mistake you can’t come back from.”

“A mistake like what?” Ty closed the distance between them this time, tone filled with challenge. “You and your money don’t scare me. You think you’re untouchable?”

Gideon cocked his head slowly. He was beginning to see why André had liked this guy at one point. They were reckless, the two of them. Stubborn as fuck, too.

“Where is André?” Ty demanded. “Because all this talking you just did? I’m convinced you know where he is.”

At this point, Gideon was only going along, keeping the conversation going, because he was enjoying their little exchange. The minute he stopped enjoying it, he would be putting a bullet through Ty’s skull. He’d decided.

“Don’t you think it’s time to give up your infatuation with him?” he asked casually as he sat at the edge of his desk. “When he returned home, did he call and tell you he was back or did you find out some other way?” Ty didn’t answer because they both knew what it was.

“Where is he?” Fists bunched at his sides, Ty’s voice rose when he asked, “What did you do to him?”

Gideon allowed a slow smile to spread across his face when he responded, “Nothing he didn’t beg me for.”

Now, that was a hit Ty didn’t see coming, so he didn’t know to dodge it. Gideon watched as it landed as intended, knocking the other man off balance.

“You—”

The door opened. “Gideon, I brought you coffee.” Jules wheeled inside, a tray with one cup on her lap. “Dré told me we’re all gonna— Ty?”

“Jules?” Ty rushed over to her. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“Samir,” Gideon called out, and his friend poked his head in.

When Gideon stared pointedly at Jules, Samir shrugged. “Have you tried saying no to her?”

“Miss Juliette.” Gideon went to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for the coffee.” He took the tray from her lap, setting it on his desk. “Why don’t you go with Samir?”

“Why is Ty here?” she asked.

“Ty and I were having a meeting, but he’s leaving now.”

“Not before I see André.”

Juliette had already seen enough spilled blood. That was what Gideon kept reminding himself so he didn’t shoot that fucker where he stood. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he reopened them, he sought out Samir, who regarded him with a smug I told you so smile on his stupid face. He’d wanted to be the one to deal with Ty, but Gideon had insisted on handling it. On bringing him to the penthouse.

Now that fucker was being an even bigger nuisance and Gideon couldn’t just kill him. At least, not in front of Jules.

“André is busy,” Gideon said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure he’ll be able to make time to see me.” Ty crossed his arms.

“I told you⁠—”

“Dré, guess who’s in Gideon’s office?”

Gideon glanced down to find Jules with her cell phone to her ear, talking to her brother. He stifled a groan. Goddamnit!

“It’s Ty! They’re having a meeting. Huh? Oh, yeah, he wants to see you before he leaves. Yeah.” She nodded. “In Gideon’s office.” She ended the call and gazed up at Gideon. “He’s on his way. I’m gonna go get ready for our fun day.” She wheeled over to the door and then glanced back at Gideon with a big smile, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’ve got a whole list of things planned.”

Yeah, things they might not get to do if André was mad at him for this. Still, Gideon forced a smile and a wave. “Can’t wait.” The door closed behind her and he turned to find Ty glaring at him.

“Why are they here with you? How do you know André and his sister?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, Ty,” Gideon sneered, “but I don’t answer questions.”

“Why bring me here just to warn me away from André?” Ty kept pressing. “Am I that much of a threat to you?”

Gideon barked a laugh. “A threat? You?” Was he serious?

Ty shrugged, looking full of himself now. “You just implied that you and André are…more. He and I aren’t together, like you said. So, why would you feel the need to warn me away from him?”

Gideon went to him, standing toe to toe, chest to chest. To his credit, Ty didn’t budge. It wasn’t often that he’d had to reevaluate his opinion of someone, but Gideon was man enough to admit that he might have underestimated Ty Levins. Still… “You are laughably out of your league, my friend. You could never be a threat to me.”

They stared each other down, tension thick and choking until the door opened.

“Gideon.”

He tensed but didn’t turn around. If André was mad at him, Gideon didn’t want to know. A hand touched the small of his back, then André was at his side.

“Ty. What are you doing here?”

Ty nudged his chin in Gideon’s direction. “Ask your…friend.” That sounded just a little bit bitter.

Made Gideon want to smile. “Ty has been making noise, being a regular nuisance,” he told André without taking his eyes off said nuisance. “My people in law enforcement gave me a heads-up.”

“And you thought you’d bring him here?” André asked. “For what?”

“He threatened me.” Ty sounded like a spoiled brat.

“Yeah, he does that sometimes.” André didn’t even blink at him. Instead, he turned to Gideon. “This is the meeting you told me about?”

Gideon nodded.

“Except you didn’t tell me it would be Ty.”

Okay, now he felt as if he were being scolded. “Because you would have tried to stop me.”

André’s eyes narrowed.

“André, what the hell is going on?” Ty butted in. “How do you know this guy? Why aren’t you at your house?”

“Ty.” André blew out a breath. “How is your son?” There was something there, in his tone, that caught Gideon’s attention. Hurt? There was definitely a story there, one he wanted to know.

Ty must’ve heard it too, because he sort of pulled in on himself, shoulders hunched. “He’s fine. He’s perfect.”

André nodded once. “Then you should be with him instead of wasting your time on me, don’t you think? As you can see, Jules and I are safe and happy.”

Sadness flooded Ty’s eyes. “Is it true then? Are you and him a thing?”

“I no longer owe you explanations, but yes. Gideon and I are together.”

“You don’t even know who he is. He threatened⁠—”

“Oh, trust me, I know exactly who he is.” André slid his hand into Gideon’s. And Gideon squeezed him gently, releasing a pent-up breath. “This meeting is over, I take it?”

“Definitely over.” Gideon couldn’t help turning into André’s side, burying his face in his lover’s neck and inhaling him. He’d taken a shower, and that made Gideon want to dirty him up again so that he could smell their sex on him.

“Samir will show you out,” André told Ty. “And Ty, whatever Gideon told you to do or not to do, listen to him. Please. For your own good.”

Ty didn’t say anything else and Gideon listened to his footsteps and the sound of the door closing.

“Are you mad at me?” he mumbled against André’s skin when they were alone.

“Yes.”

He lifted his head, peering into André’s eyes. “Would you like to punish me?”

André’s lips twitched, eyes blazing. “Yes.”

“Would fucking me over my desk suffice?”

André leaned forward, lips brushing Gideon’s. “It might.” He released Gideon’s hand and reached for his belt buckle. “Only one way to find out.”

“Tell me why you and Ty broke up.”

That was not what André expected to hear come out of Gideon’s mouth after he’d just put in work fucking him over his desk. He blew out a breath, shifting against the other man. They’d stumbled to the couch after their orgasms, holding on to each other as they rode out the aftershocks. André’s chest was still heaving, heart still racing, and here was Gideon, trying to get him to string more than two words together.

Ty was the last person he’d expected to see in this place. He’d thought his ears were deceiving him when Jules called to tell him she’d seen Ty. Why wouldn’t Gideon tell him that was who he’d be meeting?

But André already knew why.

“Hey.” Gideon peered down at him, arms tightening around him. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

“No, it’s—” He shook his head. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t, not really, but he didn’t want to keep secrets. “Ty and I were together for a few years. I loved him and things were going great, but then my mom died and I had to focus on Jules, so I kinda… I put us on pause. I had other things to focus on.”

“Okay.” Gideon rubbed his back, his touch soothing. Almost therapeutic.

“We were never truly out of each other’s lives because he lives close by and we both work at Jules’s school, so we were constantly running into each other, crossing paths. And sometimes, I would—I would slip.” He wasn’t proud of that. “We’d fall back into bed and then I’d regret it because I knew it wasn’t fair to him. He wanted more and I didn’t think I was in the right space mentally for that. But after a while, he wore me down and we got back together. And again, things were good. Then a couple of months in, a woman walked up to us while we were out on a date.”

He stopped then, reliving that moment. It’d been a slap to the face, a rude awakening that took a long time to get over. “She was visibly pregnant. She just stood there next to our table, staring at Ty, waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t acknowledge her, she got loud, telling the entire restaurant she was carrying his child and that she hated him for fucking her and leaving her.” He shook his head. “What she didn’t know was that not even twenty minutes before that, Ty had asked me to marry him and I’d said yes.”

“Fuck,” Gideon muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

“It felt like this weird dream that I just couldn’t wake up from. I didn’t know he was bisexual, which was honestly not an issue for me. I also didn’t know he was seeing anyone else while we were broken up. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but I deserved to know. It happened while we were on a break, so again, I wasn’t mad, but I needed that information.”

“That shouldn’t have been the way you found it all out.”

“No, it shouldn’t have. And I tried to be understanding. I forgave him and stayed once he explained. Started planning a wedding. I tried to be accommodating. I tried even though she made it so difficult, always showing up at my house and calling our phones all random hours of the day and night. Demanding he be with her, telling him their child deserved to have both parents present when they were born.” He chuckled dryly. “Man, she did not make it easy.”

“And how did Ty handle it?” Gideon asked.

“He didn’t.” That had been the biggest bone of contention between them. “I think he was afraid of her maybe keeping the child from him, so he didn’t want to anger her, but he also didn’t want me to leave, so he would walk on eggshells around me without addressing any of the issues I kept voicing. I insisted they get a DNA test done because I didn’t trust her. She fought it for a while but eventually gave in. And when it came back that the child she was carrying was indeed his, I resolved to have her be a constant presence in our lives. I mean, I was gonna marry this man.”

Gideon hummed. “But you guys did eventually break up. How and why?”

“She gave birth and Ty took one look into that child’s eyes and decided that was where he wanted to be.”

“What?” Gideon stared down at him. “Are you— He broke up with you? Seriously?”

“He did, and I was devastated because I was trying so hard to make it work. I had silenced all my issues with his child’s mother. I kept to the background, allowing them to deal only with each other.”

“As they should.”

“I forced myself to tolerate so much, to put my values aside for him. And then he decided, nah, I’m good over here.” André sat up, shaking his head. “Not gonna lie, I was a mess. Especially when I would see them, since, like I said, Ty lived nearby. So there they would be, the perfect family, him looking at me with shame and regret while she would smirk, all self-righteous and smug. She’d taken him from me and there was nothing I could do about it, you know?” He rubbed the middle of his chest. “Then one day I heard she’d died. And suddenly Ty is back knocking at my door.”

“He wants back into your life.”

“Yep.” But that was never gonna happen, even if he didn’t have Gideon. “There’s no space for him though, not now and not ever. I’m never spinning that block again.” He and Ty had run their course. There would be no more return trips. “Now, it’s your turn to tell me why you were holding secret meetings with him.”

Gideon’s eyes widened comically. “It wasn’t a secret meeting⁠—”

“Secret from me,” André pointed out. As if he didn’t know.

“Okay, maybe. I knew you wouldn’t want me to speak to him, but I needed to. I’ve been getting multiple reports a day of him going to the precinct about your disappearance, demanding they investigate. We can’t have him out there drawing attention to you and Jules.” Gideon paused, then continued grudgingly. “Or to his dumb ass, because if your sister even remotely thinks he could be someone important, she wouldn’t hesitate to take him out. I know I wouldn’t.”

André stared at him.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Uh-huh. And this has nothing to do with him being my ex, someone I cared for at one time?”

“I mean… No?”

“Right.” André couldn’t maintain a straight face at that, and he chuckled as Gideon’s phone vibrated. He checked it, then laughed softly. “What is it?”

“Jules just sent me our itinerary for the day.”

“Oh God.” André slumped back against the couch, pressing a palm to his forehead. “I don’t even want to know.”

“A helicopter ride is the very first thing on there. Plus a spa session, a picnic outside on the terrace, and we end with dinner and a movie.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“It’s not.” Gideon leaned over, kissing him loudly. “I told you I trusted Jules.” He stood and held out a hand. “We need to shower, somebody got us all sweaty.”

André took his hand, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet. “And by somebody you mean you, correct?”

Gideon tugged him into his chest, wrapping him up in his arms, lips landing on his again. “Sure. Sure.”

19

“Well, we know someone who enjoyed their day.” Gideon nodded over to where Jules was snoring on the other end of the couch.

André snorted.

They were in the movie room, halfway through watching the second of three movies that Jules had picked out. Maybe it’d been a tad bit of a mistake to allow her to make all the decisions for their day, but she’d been so happy, filled with such exuberance that Gideon couldn’t find it in him to temper her joy. She deserved it. Before their activities started, he and André had sat Jules down and explained—as best they could—what was happening. They didn’t go into details; all they’d told her was that someone was trying to hurt Gideon and André, and that Gideon would find them and make them pay. They’d also secured a promise from her to not share what was happening with any of the friends she remained in phone contact with.

She’d looked at Gideon as if he could do no wrong, and he didn’t want to ever let her down.

So that’s how he’d ended up getting a massage, a facial, and his toes painted. André got the same, except his fingernails were also polished a sparkly blue to match Jules’s. It was something else being with the two of them, witnessing how much they loved each other. How much André adored his sister. And after everything Jules had been through recently, she deserved all of it. And more. Her excited screams while they were taking that ride in the chopper still rang in Gideon’s head.

It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, but Jules was already out like a light, leaving Gideon to feel up André the way he’d wanted to all day. They hadn’t told Jules about them being together, but she had eyes and she was smart. Besides, Gideon and André curled up together on the couch, sharing the same bowl of popcorn as they watched the movie, might have been a bit of a giveaway.

He felt…light. Happy, but so much more than that. It was difficult to explain. His entire life had been about one thing and one thing only, and then André came and turned it on its ear. He didn’t have one complaint, not one. He’d never allowed himself to be off, to step back from all the responsibilities that were on his shoulders. Responsibilities he’d been more than happy to take on, but there were times when it got to be too much, and until André, he hadn’t had a safe enough outlet to let his guard down and just breathe.

Samir and the others were his friends, for sure. He loved them and they loved him, but it was different, having a partner, a lover. Someone he could decompress with. Someone who didn’t look at him as The Winters, but as just Gideon. André didn’t know the magnitude of what he gave to Gideon, and one day Gideon would find the words that were big enough, adequate enough, to tell him.

They both ignored the movie playing as they faced each other, André pushing his face into Gideon’s neck and inhaling him. Just the sound of his sniff had Gideon’s cock, half hard all day, jerking in the loose confines of his sweats. He stroked a hand over André’s hip, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

The day had been for Jules, to distract her, get her mind off everything. But it was also for André because he also needed those things. And spending time with him made Gideon happy. Seeing André laughing, his eyes bright and sparkling with amusement, watching the tension leave his body, watching him just…relax. Gideon wanted to give him that. He wanted to reciprocate what André gave to him.

The minute they stepped outside of their bubble, the world was once again fucked up and unfair and filled with dangers, but he wanted André to know that he could find protection and safety with Gideon.

Always.

“Thank you for today,” André murmured as if he’d read Gideon’s mind. “Seeing Jules so happy…” He tipped his head back, meeting Gideon’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Gideon cupped his chin. “Jules is not the only one who deserves to be happy. Did you enjoy yourself today?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from André’s own mouth.

“I did,” he answered softly. “It was nice to forget everything and just have fun.”

“I want to give you that all the time,” Gideon told him. “I want to be the one who makes you smile. Who makes you happy.” He swallowed. “I want that more than I want anything else.”

“Gideon.” André rolled them until Gideon was on his back, then he climbed atop Gideon, their foreheads nudging, bodies perfectly aligned.

Sliding a hand down his back and over his ass, Gideon brushed his lips over André’s. “You make me happy. I want to return that feeling.”

“You do,” André whispered against his lips. “You do.” His lips parted and Gideon swept right on in, tongue twisting over his, tasting him with a low groan. André deepened the kiss, hips rocking, and then they were humping, trying not to make too much noise, trying not to wake Jules.

“Mmm, shit. Ride me.” Gideon clasped his hands on André’s hips, urging him on. A loud groan fell from André’s lips and Gideon slapped a hand over his mouth, grinning when André chuckled into his palm.

A loud knock came on the door and they froze. The knock came again and André rolled off him with a mournful sound.

“Shit.” Gideon sat up, adjusting himself. “Yeah, come in.”

Samir entered. Gideon wasn’t supposed to be interrupted unless it was important, so there better be a reason why he was sitting there, unsatisfied.

“He wants to see you.”

Gideon lifted an eyebrow. “Who wants to see me?”

“Canto, and not you.” Samir dipped his head in André’s direction. “Him.”

André stiffened.

“Did he say why?” Gideon asked Samir, who shook his head.

“No.”

He turned to André, stroking his thigh as he addressed Samir. “Give us a minute.” He waited until Samir left before he asked André, “What do you want to do?”

“Pretend he doesn’t exist?”

Gideon pulled him into his arms. “I know, but you can’t.” He caressed André’s nape. “You can say no.” Bringing his hands up, he cupped André’s face. “I will never force you to see him or to do anything you don’t want to. You can say no.” He didn’t give a fuck what Ennis wanted when it came to André. And if André wanted it, Gideon would put a bullet in that fucker’s head. It would be no hardship since that had been the plan all along.

André didn’t speak for a while, then he eased out of Gideon’s hold with a sigh. “I might as well go, get it over with. I don’t want to waste more time than I need to on him.”

“Okay.” Gideon nodded, getting to his feet. “Let’s get Jules to bed, then we’ll go down to see him.”

André scooped his sister up in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead when she roused. Gideon followed them silently as André made his way to her bedroom, waiting outside as André took her in. A few minutes later he was back, all the happiness from the day drained from his eyes.

Fuck Ennis. Gideon could kill him for that alone. He held out a hand and when André took it, Gideon squeezed him gently. “Let’s go.”

Samir joined them in the elevator, silent and watchful as ever. He’d been the one handling Ennis since Gideon didn’t want anything to distract him from André and Jules. André didn’t say a word, not in the elevator and not as they made their way down the corridor to the med unit where Ennis remained under heavy guard.

Despite what he’d told them about his daughter, Gideon still didn’t trust that fucker. He had yet to get answers regarding who had killed his mother and tried to assassinate him. That time would come soon enough, though. For now, he ignored the way André’s grip tightened around his hand as they entered the med unit. Samir stood back, allowing them to enter Ennis’s room.

He was awake, sitting up, looking slightly better than the last time Gideon saw him. His gaze landed on André, then dropped to where he and Gideon held hands. His eyes narrowed. “What is this? What the fuck are you doing with my son?”

“Nope.” André held up his free hand. “You don’t get to ask that question. You do not have the right to ask that question.”

Ennis’s jaw worked, expression darkening. Gideon just watched him, daring him to say something else. He might have saved the fucker, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t end him just as swiftly.

“We need to talk,” Ennis told André finally.

“So talk.”

Ennis flicked a glance in Gideon’s direction. “Not with The Winters present.” He spat out Gideon’s name as if it was foul tasting.

“Gideon stays. I don’t know who you think you are, demanding things from me, but you got me fucked up if you think that’s how this is gonna go.” Anger made André’s words shake and Gideon stroked his thumb over his knuckles, over and over.

“André, please. I’m your father.”

André released a bitter chuckle. “The fuck you are.”

This man had the balls—the fucking gall—to call himself a father? André’s father? André balled his fist, willing the swell of anger in his chest to go away. He’d been in the best mood until Samir told them Ennis wanted to see André.

For what?

What did he want to share that his actions over the years hadn’t already said?

He was no fucking father. And the fact that he thought he could dictate what André did with his life? He was delusional.

He clung to Gideon’s hand, greedily taking the support he offered silently.

André didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be staring down at Ennis, who gazed up at him with hope in his eyes as if he thought he could sway André with his words. André wasn’t his mother. Ennis was a bullshitter, point blank, and André saw him for who he was.

“What do you want?” he asked the man responsible for impregnating his mother. “You’re interrupting my night.”

Ennis’s jaw tightened. You could tell he wasn’t used to being spoken to, or handled, that way. André's sperm donor was a multibillionaire. He was the man in charge. The man who looked down on people, who had no time for anyone, especially his secret son. Obviously, he’d expected André to rush into his arms and thank him for what the fuck he’d done over the years, no matter how measly it was.

Shit wasn’t happening.

“I wanted to know if you were safe.”

“I am.”

Ennis cast a dirty look in Gideon’s direction. “No one would tell me anything or give me any updates on you.”

“Why would they?” André frowned. “I don’t know you. They don’t know you.” Gideon hadn’t shared that Ennis had been demanding updates, but André appreciated his man for not capitulating, for protecting him. That was all Gideon had ever done, wasn’t it? Protect him. Even now, as he stood strong and silent next to André, he protected him.

“What do you expect to happen here?” André asked Ennis, an eyebrow raised. “Do you think you and I will ever have a relationship? Because I can tell you flat out, that ain’t happening. You didn’t want me in your life then and I don’t want you in mine now.”

“I was protecting you!” Ennis roared. “I had to protect you.” Veins bulged in his neck, his face darkening in his frustration. He was still hooked up to an I.V. drip, and it jerked when he lurched upright. “Your mother and I agreed.”

“And what about your daughter, Sienna?” André asked softly, ignoring all that hurt and physical pain shining in Ennis’s eyes. “Didn’t she also need protection? You did it, didn’t you? Kept her close to you, showed her off to the world, claimed her as yours. You lived under the same roof as her, so she got all of you.” He couldn’t hide the hurt, the bitterness, the pain in his voice. Gideon leaned into him, thumb stroking André’s knuckles. “She got you. Your name, your love, your attention. Somehow, you managed to protect her just fine despite such close proximity. She was special to you. And me? I was just a product of an affair you had, a nasty reminder.”

“No.” Ennis shook his head. “I loved your mother. She was—” He choked. “I loved her.”

André chuckled despite the pain in his chest. “And somehow, she lived and died without you being there, at her side. Fuck you, Ennis. I mean seriously, fuck you.” He turned away, ready to put some major distance between himself and that man and his attempts to rewrite history.

“I was there.” Ennis’s words were a weakened shout. “I was at the hospital when she got sick.”

André froze. “What?” He faced Ennis. “What?”

“I was there.” Reaching for the glass of water at his bedside, Ennis gulped it down, then put back the empty glass, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “She called me, told me she was scared. And I dropped everything, without hesitation.” His voice trembled. His hands, too, when he brought them together, clasping them above his heart. “I was there, holding her hand when she got the diagnosis. And I held her when she wept because she was scared to leave you and your sister.”

André gaped at him. What the fuck?

“I wanted to be with her, but she denied me. She protected me.” He thumped his chest. “She didn’t want to be an issue for me, but I didn’t care.” A tear crept down his face then. “I didn’t give a damn, but she did. She pushed me away like she did over the years whenever I wanted to give it all up and come home to her. To you.”

André shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

Ennis shrugged. “I know, but it’s true.” He inhaled, then let it out. “I was at the funeral. I stayed in the back, kept out of sight, but I was there.”

André needed to sit down because what the fuck?

Gideon touched his shoulder. “You okay? What do you need?”

“I—”

Samir entered then. “The Council called a meeting.” His gaze went to Ennis, then back to Gideon. “They know we have him. They want him present.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “When?”

“Tomorrow.” Samir cleared his throat. “They also issued another order.” He nodded in André’s direction. “He must also be present.”

“What?” Gideon actually paled.

“No!” Ennis barked. “Not happening.”

“What’s going on?” André turned to Gideon. “I don’t understand.”

“For once, I agree with Ennis.” Gideon released André’s hand to clasp his face and peer into his eyes. “You’re not going.”

He’d heard them discuss this council before, but Gideon hadn’t gotten around to explaining what it was.

“They have Sienna,” Samir told them. “The Council has Sienna.”

“Goddamn it!” Gideon jerked away, scrubbing both hands down his face. “She went to them.” His lips twisted in a bitter smile. “She told them about André. I’m guessing she’s bartering—protection for information.” He grinned darkly at Ennis. “Your daughter doesn’t know yet that there’s no one and nothing that can protect her from me.”

“She’s got to be working with someone on The Council,” Ennis said, voice low. “Could be one of them, could be all of them.”

“Of course she is.” Gideon blew out a breath while André stared back and forth between the two of them.

“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Ennis paused and glared up at Gideon. “You’re sleeping with my son, but you haven’t told him who you are?”

“Mind your business, old man.” Gideon touched André’s face. “I’ll tell you everything once we get out of⁠—”

“No.” André shook his head. “We’re here now and we’re not leaving this spot until I know what the fuck is going on. Who or what is The Council and what do they want with me?”

20

“Say something.” Gideon leaned over, taking André’s hand in his. They were still in Ennis’s room. A chair had been brought in for André to sit in while Gideon knelt on the floor next to him. Together he and Ennis had taken turns explaining The Council to André, who just stared at them with saucer-wide eyes, mouth agape.

They’d finished talking, but André had yet to react. Gideon glanced over at Ennis, who wore a look of trepidation. So clearly, Gideon wasn’t the only one uncertain of how André would react.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Gideon said. “Just tell me what you’re thinking. What you’re feeling.”

André shook his head slowly. “So these people—you—control everything?” Disbelief lifted his voice higher, turning it thin. “Like, everything?”

Gideon shrugged. “I guess.”

“But…” André trailed off. “How? I don’t get it. How long has this been going on?”

“I mean, I can’t tell you when the very first council was put together.” Though Gideon vaguely recalled his father giving him a lesson in that very thing at some point while he was growing up.

“And, wait—” André turned his attention to his father. “You say I’m part of this council?”

“You’re my proxy,” Ennis explained. “Which means you’re my heir to the seat. If anything happens to me, the seat goes to you. You will take my place.”

“It also means power, baby,” Gideon said in his ear. “You get to make or break corporations, governments, countries.”

But André shook his head, pulling away from Gideon’s hold. “What if I don’t want that? I don’t— That’s not who I am.”

“I know,” Ennis answered before Gideon could. “That’s precisely why I chose you. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be unduly influenced or the power to go to your head. You would make good decisions, André. Decisions based on the right things.” He glanced away. “I haven’t always done that. There were times when I allowed myself to be coerced into something even though I knew it wasn’t right.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes at that. Was Ennis alluding to being involved in Gideon’s mother’s death? He would have his answers. All he had to do was bide his time.

“Samir said The Council wants to see me, but why? I shouldn’t be involved as long as he’s still alive, right?” André jerked his chin in Ennis’s direction.

“The Council didn’t know about the change to my proxy,” Ennis said. “I’m guessing your sis—Sienna told them. She’s listed as my proxy on all official documents, for now. I hadn’t taken the time to file the revised proxy.” He exhaled loudly, lips twisting. “And I’m guessing they want to lay eyes on the son they never knew I had. Members of The Council know all of each other’s secrets.” His eyes blazed when he looked at Gideon even as he addressed André. “Secrets are a weakness to be exploited, you see.”

“I don’t want any part of this,” André said. “And I’m definitely not leaving Jules to go meet this council just so they can gawk at me. If they’re siding with Sienna, who knows what they would do to us once we’re there?”

“Nobody would dare touch you,” Gideon told him fiercely. “Those fuckers know better.” He would wipe them the fuck away.

“Um.” André blinked at him. “Sienna tried to kill me.”

“And she’ll be made to see the error of her ways in due time,” Gideon assured him with conviction. Sienna was going to die. He didn’t give a fuck what The Council or anybody else had to say about it.

“I need a phone,” Ennis said softly. “I need to get some balls rolling.” When Gideon just stared at him, he said, “On this, you and I are on the same side, Winters.”

Gideon stood, looming over him as he reclined in the bed. “We could never be on the same side. Not when I know you have information about my mother’s death. Not when your daughter is actively trying to kill him.” He stabbed a finger in André’s direction. “And not when you were plotting to have me killed not too long ago.”

André gasped.

“You were a threat.” Ennis shrugged. “I knew you had André and I didn’t know what you planned to do with him. I have to protect my son, so yes, I wanted you dead. You would have done the same.”

He would have, but Gideon didn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of acknowledging his words. Instead, he grunted and turned to André. “As much as I hate to say this, you have to go before The Council. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

André paled.

“I agree with him,” Ennis said. “But we don’t make a single move on the board unless all the pieces—and players—are in place.” He held out a hand to Gideon, fingers beckoning. “Phone. Please.”

Gideon still didn’t trust him, but he would put his bullshit aside in order to ensure André’s safety. If that meant working with Ennis Canto, then he would. And if that fucker ever double-crossed him, Gideon would bury him in a grave so deep, nobody would be able to find his body no matter how long they dug. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and handed it over. “Make it quick.”

While Ennis made his call, Gideon grasped both of André’s hands and gently pulled him to his feet. He led the other man out of the room and guided him to a quiet corner outside. “Hey.” Clasping André’s face in his hands, he peered into his troubled eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just— My head is spinning right now.” André pressed his lips together.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m here.” He kissed André’s forehead, his nose, and then finally his lips. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise you that.”

André burrowed into his arms, burying his face in Gideon’s neck, and Gideon hugged him tight, rubbing his back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I got you,” he whispered. “I got you, always.”

André eased back, smoothing a hand over Gideon’s hair. His gaze lifted past Gideon’s shoulder. “Do you trust him?” Tone soft, he met Gideon’s eyes. “My fa—Ennis. Do you trust him?”

Gideon took a breath before he answered. “I believe that he won’t do anything to hurt you. I believe that right now, he’s wishing he’d done a few things differently when it comes to you and your sister.”

“But do you trust him?”

“No.”

André’s eyes bulged “Then why⁠—”

Wrapping both arms around him again, Gideon tugged André back against his chest, murmuring in his ear, “Because around here, we keep our friends close and our enemies closer.”

They were able to put The Council off for a week, but eventually their time ran out. They took Gideon’s private jet since the meeting place was in a whole other state. On the jet, André listened with half an ear as Gideon shared that The Council never met in the same place twice. He was too busy staring at Ennis, who sat near the front of the plane, with a doctor and two nurses at his side.

The doctor had been against Ennis leaving the med unit, but neither Ennis nor Gideon listened to her. So instead, she’d shot Ennis up with a bunch of painkillers and insisted she come along. Samir was also at Ennis’s side, watching the older man like a hawk. As if Ennis could do anything or go anywhere. He looked so pale and frail.

“Hey.” Gideon touched his knee. “You okay?”

He wasn’t okay, and he wouldn’t be until he was back at the penthouse with Jules. He met Gideon’s eyes, and he knew the other man understood because he released a breath and cupped André’s face.

“It will be over soon.”

He wanted it to already be over, but André just turned his head and pressed a kiss to the inside of Gideon’s palm. He tried not to feed into the anxiety that had his stomach in knots, tried not to allow himself to indulge in worst-case scenarios. Before they left, he knew Gideon, Samir, and the rest of his team had a closed-door meeting to discuss security, but André didn’t want to know anything about it.

After everything he’d learned about The Council? He wanted to dig around in his skull and remove all that Gideon had shared. He didn’t want to have that kind of knowledge, couldn’t even see himself being a part of something like that. It was scary as fuck to think that just a handful of people could hold the kind of power that you only saw in movies or read about in fiction novels. But it was real. The Council was real, and his father and his lover were members of it.

Hell, technically he was a member. Ennis’s proxy. His heir to the seat.

Fuck.

He wished for a simpler time when it was just him and Jules and all he had to worry about was navigating his sister and her teenage hormones. Things were so much easier then.

But you wouldn’t have Gideon.

He wouldn’t have Gideon at his side, touching him the way he did now, and that would’ve been a crime. As much as he was afraid, as much as he dreaded what awaited them at this council meeting, he was also happy. Gideon made him happy. Gideon made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He couldn’t regret Gideon.

He leaned against Gideon, and when the other man put an arm around him, André melted into his side. He didn’t know what was coming their way, but he knew for sure that Gideon would protect him. That knowledge allowed him to close his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Gideon was shaking him awake. “Hey, come on. Let’s go.”

André blinked at him. “We’ve arrived?”

Gideon nodded. “Yes.” He kissed André’s brow. “How are you?” He scrutinized André as he sat up. “How do you feel?”

“Like I wanna get this shit over with.”

Gideon grinned. “You and me both, babe.” He stood and held out a hand. “So let’s go deal with those fuckers.”

André took his hand, allowing Gideon to haul him to his feet. He glanced around with a frown when he noticed they were the only ones on the plane. “Where is everybody? Ennis?”

“Already got off.” Gideon gripped his hand, leading him toward the exit.

“So, we’re going directly to the meeting?”

“Yes,” Gideon answered as they deplaned, heading toward one of the five SUVs that sat waiting on the tarmac. “It shouldn’t take long. We should be back home before nightfall.”

They’d had to make up some excuse to Jules, telling her that Gideon was taking André on a special outing for just the two of them. He sighed as one of Gideon’s guards opened the SUV door for them. “Okay. Let’s get this shit over with then.”

In the back of the SUV, he and Gideon sat together, but they didn’t speak. The ride was short and quiet, and by the time the vehicle rolled to a stop outside a large standalone structure located in the middle of an otherwise empty field, André felt as if he were coming out of his skin.

“We’re here,” Gideon told him softly.

André gripped his hand, clinging to him. “Promise me nothing will happen to you.”

Gideon hiked a brow. “What do you think could happen to me?”

“I don’t know, but you’re not invincible, so promise me.”

Gideon studied him before replying. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Or myself,” he continued quickly when André opened his mouth to speak. “Those people can’t touch me, baby. I promise you that.” He kissed André, a hard, too-short kiss on the lips that lingered long after he’d pulled away. “Now, like you said earlier, let’s get this shit over with.”

The bodyguards exited the vehicle, then Will opened the door for them. Gideon got out first and held out a hand for André, helping him to climb out. They were immediately flanked by Gideon’s people. Gideon had shared with him that each member was only allowed to bring one bodyguard with them, but he’d decided to ignore that rule this time. His men escorted them to the door and some remained outside, but three guards followed them into the building.

It was a barn. The faint smell of manure and animals reached André’s nose, and he wrinkled it as he took in the people who’d been conversing amongst themselves in a low whisper. They sat around a long table in the middle of the space, men and women who all shut up and turned toward the door.

André sucked in a breath, keeping his head up. He couldn’t show weakness. Nobody had told him that, but he just instinctively knew that this wasn’t the place to broadcast fear or any other kind of weakness. Those sharks sitting around that table would pounce at the first sign of blood in the water.

“You’re late,” one of them said.

“Let this be the first and last time you summon me,” Gideon responded. André had never heard him sound like that: cold, deadly, and powerful. It raised the hair on his arms and nape.

“Some things have been brought to our attention, Winters. We demand an explanation for⁠—”

“You don’t get to demand anything,” Ennis interrupted. He stood to Gideon’s left with Samir at his side, and if André didn’t know better, he’d think that Samir was the only reason his father remained upright. “What you do get to do is hand over my daughter to me.”

“Sienna Canto is a proxied member of our council. She cannot and will not be handed over. You know that, Ennis. Now, explain yourself. Why didn’t we know you had a son?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you about my son?” Ennis exploded. “So you could sanction his death?”

A chill ran over André at those words and he stiffened. These people didn’t play. They could do that? They could so easily take someone’s life?

“Papers have been filed and submitted to The Council to make my firstborn, my rightful heir, my proxy,” Ennis said. Was he sounding a bit winded or was that just André’s imagination? He had to force himself to keep from glancing over at his father. Instead, he kept his gaze on the men and women at the table who eyed him as if he were something under a microscope to be studied.

“That is not happening.” The soft, feminine voice sounded first before the speaker stepped out from another doorway. His sister. André had never seen her in person, only on his TV screen and in magazines, but Sienna Canto was even more stunning up close. Blemish-free dark skin, a curly afro, tall and leggy. Her presence was magnetic. Even the cunning in her eyes added to her allure. “Hello, Father. Big brother, I’m so glad I finally get to meet you.”

André swallowed when she winked at him.

“This council”—Sienna motioned to the table—“is my birthright. I will not have a usurper swoop in and take my place.”

“Is that why you tried to kill him?” Gideon asked.

Sienna shrugged. “Things like that happen when you try to take what doesn’t belong to you.”

“But I don’t want it,” André blurted out. Couldn’t she see that? “I didn’t know any of this even existed until last night.”

“And why did you try to kill me?” Ennis asked his daughter. “How could you do that, Sienna? I’m your father.”

“Because you hurt me, Daddy. You tried to replace me.”

“I didn’t⁠—”

Bang.

André jerked, mouth opening in horror as he watched Sienna crumble to the ground with a hole in her forehead.

Silence filled the room as everyone stared.

“It’s against council rules to openly attempt to take the life of a sitting member,” Gideon said in monotone as he lowered the hand André hadn’t even seen him raise. The hand holding a gun. “Punishment for that is death.”

21

Gideon only had two regrets: that André had to witness him take a life and that Sienna got away so easily. He wanted to make her suffer for what she tried to do to André, but he would accept her death—as quick as it had been—as payment.

He heard André’s gasp, saw the way the other members of The Council stared at him, silent, all of their expressions passive. But aside from André, the one he really tuned into was Ennis. The older man hadn’t known Gideon’s plan; it wasn’t as if Gideon would tell him that he would shoot his daughter on sight. But Ennis had to know how things would go.

Nobody got a pass from Gideon.

Especially not for threatening André’s life.

He didn’t look, but he felt Ennis’s stillness next to him. Felt, too, the way André’s father’s breath died and didn’t seem to return. But Ennis didn’t speak. Didn’t make a sound. Good, because Gideon would have no problem giving him a bullet hole to match his daughter’s.

“Now that that’s been taken care of…” He refocused on The Council. “There’s a new proxy member to approve. Which,” he reminded them, lest they forget, “is merely a formality.” With Sienna lying dead at their feet, they had no choice but to accept André as Ennis’s proxy.

“There are procedures that must be followed, Winters.”

“I know.” Gideon nodded. “The necessary documents have already been submitted, like Canto said. All that’s left is for you to acknowledge it and swear André in.” Clearly, they thought because they’d summoned him that things would have gone a certain way. They still hadn’t learned that he wouldn’t be manipulated or handled in any way…unless he wanted to be.

One of them gasped at his words. “How dare you? You’re telling us how to do our jobs now? He has to be vetted, investigated⁠—”

“No, he doesn’t. He has the backing of two fellow council members. No other proxy has ever had that.” With other proxies, their backer would usually be the person for whom they would be proxy and no one else. Gideon reached down and took André’s trembling hand, linking their fingers. He didn’t look at his lover when he told The Council, “When we leave here, we won’t be returning, so get your shit together and let’s get this done. You have an hour.”

“Contrary to what you believe, Winters, you are not our leader.”

Gideon smirked. “I am whoever I say I am.” He tossed them a wink, then turned away, taking a silent André with him. He didn’t check to see if Samir followed with Ennis. He knew they would be behind him.

Nobody spoke until they returned to their vehicle, Ennis climbing in with help from Samir. Once they were all inside with the doors closed, Ennis rammed a fist into Gideon’s jaw, knocking his head sideways, then lunged at him, grabbing him by the throat.

“No!” André shouted. “Stop!”

“My fucking daughter! You killed my daughter!” Ennis’s fingers dug into Gideon’s flesh.

But Gideon simply rolled his eyes, not even bothering to defend himself. Instead, he remained still as Ennis struggled against Samir, who yanked him away. Gideon tugged on his shirt, smoothing it out and cracking his jaw. He took a moment before he addressed Ennis. “Your daughter tried to kill you.” He kept his tone calm and measured. “Most importantly, she tried to kill your son. Tell me, what did you think the outcome would be when you made her confess—in front of the entire fucking council—that she attempted to take your life?”

Ennis’s eyes were red but dry as he stared Gideon down, hatred hot and tangible in his gaze.

“You knew her actions required a death sentence, but I guess you didn’t expect I would be the one to carry it out, huh?” Gideon leaned forward, into Ennis’s face. “Make no mistake, I would kill her over and over again if I could. I will wipe you—and the entire fucking council—off the map if I have to, to protect him.” He jerked a thumb in André’s direction. “He’s mine, and my job is to protect him. It used to be yours but you abdicated your responsibilities.” He sneered. “Like a fucking coward.”

“Gideon.”

He ignored the reproach in Samir’s voice. “You’re alive because I think hurting you would hurt him. But if he gave me the go-ahead, you would never see me coming.”

“Gideon.” André touched his shoulder. “Enough.”

Gideon took a deep breath, allowing André’s touch to calm the furor in his chest.

“This is who you want?” Ennis turned to André. “He’s a monster.”

André cocked his head, staring at his father. “What is it that Gideon did just now that you wouldn’t have done? If she hadn’t been your child, your daughter, the one you raised with all that love and privilege and entitlement, would you have allowed the person who tried to kill you to live?”

Ennis didn’t have a comeback for that. “She was your sister,” he told André instead.

“Who tried to kill me twice. And you.” André shrugged. “According to the rules of your council, that was a hostile act punishable by death. You don’t get to pick and choose which rules should be followed and which ones shouldn’t.”

Listening to him, Gideon couldn’t hide his smile. He hooked an arm around André’s shoulders and pulled him close, into his side. “You are spectacular,” he murmured against André’s temple. His words were for André and André alone. He hadn’t expected his lover to defend him, let alone do it with such calm surety. It filled his chest with warmth, made his heart beat harder and faster. “Samir.” He lifted his head, meeting his friend’s narrowed gaze, and gestured.

They’d been around each other, trusting each other, for so long that Samir didn’t need Gideon’s words. He tapped Ennis on the shoulder before opening the vehicle door and stepping out, then taking Ennis’s hand to help him climb out. The older man moved gingerly due to his healing injuries.

Injuries given to him by the daughter he was trying to defend.

Fuck him.

Once he was out of the vehicle, still holding on to Samir’s hand, Ennis glanced over his shoulder, lips parted as if to speak, but Gideon slammed the door in his face. Since the driver and the rest of the bodyguards were milling about outside, he had André to himself, and Gideon immediately hauled André onto his lap.

“Gideon!” André gripped his shoulders as he straddled him, knees pressing into the seat on either side of Gideon’s body.

“Hey.” Gideon pinched his chin gently. “Look at me.” André peered down at him with an eyebrow raised. “Thank you for defending me to your father. For supporting me.”

André licked his lips, and Gideon’s cock liked that shit. A lot. He loved it even more when André wiggled on him, trying to get comfortable. “You should have told me you were going to do that.”

He should have. Gideon nodded. “I’m sorry.”

André cupped his face in both hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. His eyes were serious when he said, “I’ve had enough of death and violence, Gideon. In this short period that we’ve known each other, I’ve seen too much of it.”

Fuck. “I’m sorry, baby.” He brought his face to André’s throat, kissing his Adam’s apple. “I’m sorry.” They were so different, the two of them. André wasn’t cut out for the kind of life Gideon led. If he was a better man, he would’ve left André where he found him. Even now, he should break things off. Walk away.

But that wasn’t happening. It would never happen.

“Hey. Now it’s your turn to look at me.” André fisted his hair, tugging his head back. When their eyes met, a smile spread across André’s face, lighting his eyes up.

He took Gideon’s breath away. So fucking much. He couldn’t help but to steal a kiss, licking his way into André’s mouth, hands sliding down his back to palm his ass.

André broke their lip lock after a minute, peppering kisses along Gideon’s jaw. “You defended me.”

“Yes,” Gideon breathed.

“You protected me.”

“Always.” His eyes slid shut, body shuddering.

“You love me.”

Gideon opened his eyes, easing back just enough so he could meet André’s heavy-lidded stare. “Forever,” he vowed.

He hadn’t intended to talk about love. But something inside André had melted when he saw the way Gideon defended him. When he really, finally acknowledged that Gideon would—and had—kill for him. That couldn’t be anything but love, and so he’d voiced it, half expecting Gideon to deny it.

But instead, the other man had confirmed it.

He loved André.

Sitting astride Gideon, André cradled his face in his hands. Lost in the clear blue of his eyes, reading everything in their depths. There was a whole bunch of fucked-up shit happening outside the SUV doors. Things they had to face head-on, things André could no longer ignore and deny. But here, in this space with Gideon, all André knew was warmth and safety. And it was because of Gideon.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “I love you, Gideon.” Those few words, he hadn’t known that would be all it required to watch the Gideon Winters melt before him. And he damn sure hadn’t expected for a tear to roll down Gideon’s face.

“The last person who told me that was my father before he died,” Gideon told him with a low sniff. “And before that, it was my mother just before she died.”

“I’m sorry.” He swiped a thumb over Gideon’s wet cheek.

“No.” Gideon shook his head. “No. There’s nothing to apologize for. In fact—” He smiled, eyes still wet, red-rimmed but sparkling. “Say it again.”

André grinned and lowered his head so their noses could brush, their lips could meet. “I love you, Gideon Winters.”

Gideon’s arms tightened around him. “Thank you for being here with me,” he murmured. “For having my back.”

He didn’t have to thank André for that. “Always,” André assured him. “I will always be at your side and I will always have your back.” There was still so much he didn’t know about The Council and their dealings, but he didn’t fear it as he did before. They were just people, flesh and bone. And besides, he had Gideon.

“You can trust that I won’t ever hurt you,” Gideon told him as if he’d heard André’s thoughts. “That I will ensure you’re happy, always. And that I will go to my grave protecting you and Jules.”

“No talk about graves.” André pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “Tell me about this swearing in that I have to do. What does it entail?” He wanted to be as informed as possible and didn’t want to make any mistakes.

Curled up in Gideon’s lap, the other man’s lips absentmindedly grazed André’s temple as he explained what André had to look forward to.

“There won’t be bodyguards or anyone who isn’t a member of The Council present. You stand in front of them and state your name and your designation, which for now is proxy. You have to recite the rules that govern the proxy members, which is slightly different than the ones for actual seated council members. If there are any objections to your membership, it will be voiced. If there are more than three objections, the process is halted while you’re reviewed. During that time you can try to sway the holdouts to your side—bribe them, offer shit you know they want, promise whatever. But everyone needs to be in consensus. Then you’ll be sworn in. Pretty simple.”

André blinked at him. “How in the hell is that simple? They can reject me? You didn’t mention that before.”

“They know better than to reject you.”

“Um.” André furrowed his brow. “You’re not about to kill anyone who votes against me, are you? Because I did ask for a pause on the bloodshed.”

Gideon chuckled. “No killing, I heard you.”

André worried his bottom lip. He didn’t like how Gideon made it seem so simple when it didn’t feel like it. From what he’d heard in there, those people didn’t want him in their little murderous, controlling-ass club. He doubted they would allow him to go through without pushback. “I don’t know how to bribe someone,” he whined. “What am I supposed to promise them to make them pick me?” And did he even have the guts to do all that shady shit?

“Hey, all that’s being handled as we speak.” Gideon pinched his chin lightly, tugging him close to kiss him. “I know where all the bodies are buried. You don’t have to do shit but look good while you take your rightful place.”

And if André was going to do this, then he would have to switch up his thinking, wouldn’t he? If the members of The Council had weaknesses, he needed to know it too because he had no doubt that they were poking around in his life, searching for his weak spots at that very moment. “Tell me.” He nudged Gideon. “Whatever I need to know about those people in there, tell me.”

He listened intently as Gideon schooled him, sharing dark, depraved shit about members of The Council. It was still too early for André to be able to put faces to names but Gideon helped by taking out his phone and pulling up images. So many secrets, each one darker than the last. Each one turning André’s stomach, some filling his eyes with tears as he was exposed to how vile and corrupt people could be.

Those were the people he would soon be peers with.

Who cared only about themselves and their bottom line. Motherfuckers who orchestrated disasters for profit. The wealthy and the powerful. His father was one of them. Gideon was one of them. And now, André.

Was this really what he wanted? Could he do this?

“Hey.” Gideon touched his face. “I know it’s a lot⁠—”

“A lot?” He scoffed, shuddering. “Gideon, it’s… I don’t have the word for what it is.” He wanted to throw up.

“I know.” Gideon nodded, expression solemn. “I have plans for The Council, but that’s a long-term strategy I’ll share with you another time. For now, this is what it is. Can you handle it?”

Could he? As he stared into the eyes of the man he loved, André didn’t know.

A knock came on the back passenger-side door, then it opened and Samir peered in. “They’re ready for the swearing in.”

André’s heart shot up into his throat.

Gideon took his hand. “It’s time to decide.”

22

Honestly, Gideon didn’t care what André chose to do—agree to officially become his father’s proxy or walk away from it all—Gideon would support him either way. And he would deal with The Council the way he planned to, eventually.

But this was André’s choice to make.

So Gideon waited for him to make it. He held André’s hand, staring into the other man’s eyes. They were wide, a little spooked, a little unsure. “It’s your choice,” Gideon told him softly. “Your decision. Whatever you want to do.”

André huffed out a breath. Then he jerked a nod. “Okay, I’m in.”

“You’re sure?” He tightened his grip on André. “There’s no out except for death,” he warned. Not that he would allow anyone to even breathe hard in André’s direction, but the other man had to know the risks. “You can’t change your mind a month from now or even ten years from now. That’s not how this works.” He wanted to make sure André understood the severity of his decision. “By walking into the barn earlier, you already know way too much. Once you’re sworn in, that’s it.”

André’s face looked a little pale, but he nodded again. “I’m sure.” He patted Gideon’s cheek. “As long as I have you, I’m sure.”

Gideon kissed him, quick and brutal. “You will always have me.” There was no doubt about that. “C’mon then. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.” He wanted to get André in a bed. On any flat surface really. One last lingering kiss and he opened the SUV door to find Samir and Ennis standing out there glaring at each other. Gideon ignored the tension between them and turned, holding out his hand to André and helping him out of the vehicle.

Once André stood at his side, Gideon addressed Ennis. “Any holdouts?” They had to know the names of any members of The Council who didn’t plan on voting for André. That way Gideon could get down to the threats and blackmail because nobody was gonna stand in André’s way.

“Three,” Ennis answered in a surly tone.

“Names?” After Ennis called them out, Gideon asked him, “What do you have on them?” He knew what he had on each member of The Council, but it wouldn’t hurt to add more bullets to his gun.

“Why should I share⁠—”

“If you want me to go through with this proxy shit, you will share any information you have with him,” André informed his father. “Now.”

Gideon didn’t bother hiding his smile. This side of André was sexy as fuck, he couldn’t lie. It was amazing, seeing how much he’d grown. He still maintained his goodness, his softness at the core of his being, but he’d definitely hardened. Maybe it was because his eyes had opened to an entirely new world around him and he’d adjusted to fit. Whatever it was, Gideon loved it.

He loved, too, that Ennis immediately did as his son bade, grudgingly spilling information. Most of it Gideon already knew, but there were still some gems he hadn’t been privy to.

“I think we’re all set,” he said once Ennis finished talking. Holding André’s hand, Gideon started walking back to the barn. This time it was just the three of them—him, André, and Ennis—since bodyguards couldn’t be present for the swearing in. When they crossed the barn’s threshold, André’s grip tightened on him, but Gideon swiped his thumb over his knuckles, trying to soothe him.

No one would hurt him. Gideon had already vowed it.

The stage was set, with the members of The Council standing around in a semicircle. Once the door shut behind them, Gideon led André forward, releasing him so he could stand in front of the others with his head high and shoulders back.

He kept his gaze on André as someone handed him a piece of paper, old and frayed that had the rules of the proxy. Gideon knew those words by heart even though he’d recited them when he’d been just a mere boy. He remembered being scared out of his mind then, wanting to cry as all those scary grownups stared at him.

He listened now, as André recited the proxy vows in an unsteady voice. Gideon’s heart swelled with pride. He’d had no clue when he’d first encountered André that they would end up here. And he knew André still had reservations about being a part of The Council in any capacity, but this felt right somehow.

Silence settled around the room as André finished speaking.

“Now, we cast our votes.”

He held out a hand for André, who took it and asked in a whisper, “Wh-what happens now?”

“Now, we wait for the members to cast their votes,” Gideon told him. “I need to make my rounds.” He stared into André’s eyes pointedly. “Make sure everyone makes the right decision.”

André pressed his lips together with a nod. “Okay.” He leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed. “I’ll be here then.”

“I won’t be long,” Gideon kissed him, then headed for his first target.

It didn’t take long at all. All he had to do was whisper a few words and he had those fuckers quaking and ready to vote in André’s favor. Joseph Morrow wasn’t in attendance, but his proxy—his son-in-law—was and seemed amenable. Satisfaction washed over Gideon as he made his way back to André. Once all The Council members, including both Gideon and Ennis, voted in André’s favor, it would be official. He was ready for it all to be over, honestly. Ready to take André back home. To be with Jules.

“The votes are in!”

He took André’s hand, the other man leaning on him as they faced The Council members, who now sat at the long table. Chinh Dang, now the only female on The Council, spoke. “All members except one voted yes.”

Gideon froze. Somebody voted against André? But he’d covered all the bases, bribed and threatened all the holdouts Ennis told him— He narrowed his gaze, turning his attention to André’s father, who sat there with his gaze averted.

The bastard couldn’t have.

“Who was the holdout?” Gideon asked.

“Winters, you know⁠—”

“Who was the holdout?” he demanded. “I want a name now!”

“Gideon.”

He ignored André as he stalked toward Ennis. “Give me the name of the holdout,” he told Chinh Dang. “And then I want said holdout to tell us why he did all this, named his son as his proxy and brought us to this moment, only to vote against him.”

“What?” There was so much hurt in André’s voice, but Gideon couldn’t focus on it. Not now.

“Tell us.”

Ennis heaved a sigh. “Maybe I was wrong. This might not have been the best⁠—”

Gideon held up a hand. “We need a recess. We will reconvene in half an hour,” he told the other members. “Meet us outside,” he directed at Ennis. “Now.” He went to André and took his hand, leading him back out of the barn.

“How could he do that?” André asked, hurt and confusion so heavy in his voice. “I thought this was what he wanted? How could he vote against me?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll fix it. I promise you.”

“Ready to leave?” Samir asked as they approached the vehicle.

“Not quite. Fucking Ennis voted against André.”

“Fuck.” Samir frowned. “Why?”

“That’s what I’m gonna find out. Get me Jorge.”

Samir stilled. “You’re sure?”

Jorge was one of Gideon’s men who was out on a special assignment, keeping watch over somebody integral to Gideon’s plans. He hadn’t known when that somebody would come in handy, but apparently, today was the day. “I’m sure.”

Samir pulled out his phone and turned away, and Gideon climbed into the SUV, André joining him.

“What happens next?” André asked.

“Technically, you’re safe. You needed three votes against you to halt the process, but there’s only one, so you’re good. Still, I want answers.”

The vehicle door opened and Ennis climbed in. “You think you can command me? You’re not⁠—”

Gideon rammed his fist into the bastard’s face. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you, Canto. And you can’t do shit about it.” He watched with a smug kind of satisfaction as blood dripped from the fucker’s nose down to his chin. “I want to know why you made us go through all this shit if you were just going to turn around and humiliate him.”

“He’s safe.” Ennis wiped his nose with his sleeve. “He has the votes.”

“But not yours, right?” André asked. “You brought me into this thing. I wanted nothing to do with it but you brought me in, and when you could have shown that you supported me and that I had your trust and confidence, you decided to fuck me over instead?”

“I don’t trust him.” Ennis pointed at Gideon. “Look what he did to me. I’m your father and you’re letting him treat me like this?”

“You’re nothing to me,” André told him. “All you are is a stranger.”

Hurt flashed in Ennis’s eyes.

“Change your vote,” Gideon told him. “He’s your proxy. How does it look that you don’t cast a vote for your own fucking proxy? They won’t respect him if you don’t.” And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I’m not gonna do that.”

Gideon shrugged. “Okay.” He tapped on the SUV door and Samir ducked his head in just long enough to hand Gideon an iPad. “Jorge.” He greeted the man on the screen who had a balaclava on his face to hide his identity.

“What’s up, boss?”

“Show him to me.” The video panned away from Jorge to show a man kneeling on a carpeted floor, bound and gagged. Gideon enlarged the video and handed the iPad to Ennis. “Recognize him?”

Ennis went deathly pale.

“He’s your twice-a-week appointment. Has been for the past five years...”

“Winters, don’t⁠—”

“Toby, right? Just a few years older than your own son. You were fucking him while you were married to your daughter’s mother. Out of all the men you’ve had, he’s lasted the longest.” Gideon smiled. “That tells me you have some kind of tender feelings for him.”

“Winters.” All that pleading in Ennis’s voice.

“My father was the one to tell me about him. Yes, he’s always known your secrets. I didn’t know when I’d have use for Toby, but today seems perfect.”

“Don’t hurt him.”

“But you could hurt your son? Nobody hurts André while I’m alive. Nobody. And that goes for you most of all.” Gideon grabbed the iPad back from Ennis’s trembling hands. “Now, I’m going to tell you one last time, change your vote.”

“I—” Ennis licked his lips, gaze darting from Gideon’s face to the iPad. “Okay, fine. I’ll change it.”

Gideon smiled. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” He held up the iPad and spoke to Jorge. “Jorge, stand by.”

“Gotcha.”

They returned to the barn, Ennis casting his vote in favor of his son. There were mumbles among The Council as to what could have transpired during that recess. Gideon didn’t care if Ennis shared or not. He would actually prefer that the old man did, that way everyone would know not to fuck with André.

Once the votes were in and André’s name was added to the permanent proxy list, they were done. They returned to their vehicle, Gideon already itching to get the fuck away from those people.

Standing outside, just before they all piled into their SUVs to head back to the jet, Gideon took the iPad back from Samir.

Jorge was on screen, awaiting orders.

“Jorge?” Gideon left André’s side and walked over to a sulking Ennis.

“Here, boss.”

“Do it.” He issued the order and held up the iPad so Ennis could witness the moment Jorge put two bullets in Toby’s head.

Ennis’s body rocked. Gideon thought he was gonna fall to his knees, but he didn’t. “You—You bastard.”

“Let that be a lesson. You hurt him, I hurt you.”

His father had double-crossed him in the end.

André could say it didn’t matter to him what Ennis did, but he would be lying. He didn’t know what he expected from the man who’d contributed to his creation, but for Ennis to look him dead in the eye and say one thing, then turn right around and do something else? After being the one responsible for André even being in his current position?

André had no respect for him.

None.

Ennis Canto could kick rocks.

Gideon had done something. André didn’t ask at the time, maybe he was being a coward, but he knew that right before they got into the vehicle and headed for the airport, Gideon had done something. Maybe it had to do with the secret lover Gideon had revealed. Maybe Gideon had followed through on his threat and had the man killed. André didn’t know. But this was an entirely different playing field, where he was still familiarizing himself with the rules. A game where players would just as soon slit your throat while smiling at you.

He would have to toughen up if he wanted to remain in that world.

Gideon’s world.

They were on Gideon’s private jet now, headed back home. André was curled up on the bed in the bedroom at the back of the plane while Gideon and his team discussed business outside. André hadn’t spoken since they left the barn behind. They’d left Ennis as well.

Gideon had instructed the drivers to pull off, leaving Ennis standing alone on the sidewalk, ashen and visibly shaken. Samir didn’t like it, André knew that much. But Gideon’s coldness? André knew it was on his behalf. Funny how Gideon went harder for him than who was supposed to be his own flesh and blood. Gideon proved himself over and over. Before he met Ennis, André had a million questions for the man his mother said was his father.

Now?

He understood that saying about being careful what you wished for. He didn’t want anything to do with Ennis. For a moment, before they left Gideon’s penthouse to go meet with The Council, he’d entertained the brief notion of maybe there being something to build on between him and Ennis. He’d been a fool, though. Ennis and his now-dead daughter weren't people André cared to know, to be associated with. And maybe that was hypocritical of him when his lover was the same or maybe even worse.

But Gideon hadn’t failed him, not once.

He hadn’t hurt André, not once.

All Gideon did was care for him, protect him, and love Jules just as much as he loved André. How could André not love him? How could he not want to be by Gideon’s side?

The sound of the bedroom door opening had him lifting his lashes, and he watched as Gideon crawled onto the bed with him. He curled up next to him, stroking André’s head.

“Are you okay?” Gideon asked softly.

André rolled onto his back, gazing up at him. All he saw when he looked into Gideon’s eyes was genuine love and concern. Ennis had wanted André’s loyalty, just off the strength of their shared DNA. But Gideon showed and proved, every time. “You killed him, didn’t you?” His voice was low and raspy. “That Toby guy. You had him killed.” He’d thought about not bringing it up, but he wanted to always have the facts between him and Gideon.

“I did,” Gideon answered simply. And André loved him more for his honesty. “Ennis must never forget what happens when he decides to hurt you for his own selfish reasons.” He stroked a finger down André’s cheek. “Are you mad at me for that?”

Was he? André didn’t think he could stomach doing that, ordering somebody’s death as casually as Gideon did. But he wasn’t Gideon. They weren’t raised the same way. Hadn’t experienced the same things. Gideon was born into a life of politics, money, and bloodshed, and he navigated it flawlessly. He wouldn’t handle issues the way André would. “I’m not mad,” André told him. “You handle things the way you see fit.” Ways André couldn’t. But Gideon’s ways kept André and Jules alive and protected. André couldn’t be mad about that.

Gideon exhaled. “He’s your father. You can be upset, I promise I’ll understand.” Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against André’s. “I can also promise that I won’t allow anyone to hurt or disappoint you. Not while I’m alive.”

André sank his fingers into Gideon’s hair. “I love you for that.” Nobody had ever loved him like that, except maybe his mother. He couldn’t lie, knowing that he had a man willing to kill for him? That was some heady shit. “What’s your end goal? You told me you had plans for The Council.”

Gideon lifted an eyebrow. “You want to talk about that now?”

“Yep.” André nodded. “We have another two hours until we land, right? We need something to pass the time, so what better time than the present?”

“I know something else we can do to pass the time, and it does not involve talking about the fucking council.” Gideon licked his lips suggestively and André shook his head.

“Uh-uh. No distracting me with sex. Tell me your plans.”

Gideon huffed out a breath. “Fine.” Sitting up, he retrieved his phone from his pocket and pulled up an image. “You remember this guy from earlier? He’s on The Council.”

The image was of an older white man with thinning gray hair, heavy bags under his eyes, and skin that looked like curdled milk. “I do, yeah.”

“In a few hours, he will be arrested.”

André’s eyes narrowed. “But he’s on The Council. Aren’t you guys untouchable?”

“We are. The charges won’t stick, no. His money and power will take care of that. But the arrest is a fake-out. Social media is what we want. My people will ensure his arrest, as well as some highly incriminating videos, trends. My plan is to get him off The Council and put somebody in his place who’s loyal to me.”

André cocked his head. “But what about his proxy?” Wasn’t the whole point of a proxy to be on standby if the original member wasn’t able to conduct their duties?

“Will be handled,” Gideon reassured him. “Once I find my mother’s killer or killers, I plan to disband The Council. Permanently. But until that happens, I’ll be getting rid of the OG members, putting in replacements who are loyal to me.”

André studied his features, the fierce determination in his eyes. The depths to this man. Playing chess while everyone else played checkers. He was glad he was around to witness the power that was Gideon Winters. “Is that why you wanted me as Ennis’s proxy so badly, because I’m loyal to you?”

Gideon grinned, eyes wrinkling at the corners. “Are you?” He licked his lips again. “Are you loyal to me?”

André regarded him from under his lashes. “I might be.” He slid a hand up Gideon’s chest and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Depends on how good this sex at over ten thousand feet turns out to be.”

23

Gideon walked out of the bathroom after a much-needed shower, hair still dripping, a towel around his neck, to the sound of a knock on the bedroom door. He hurried over to open it, ready to silence whoever waited on the other side.

“Miss Juliette.”

Jules didn’t answer him. Instead, she peered past him, taking in her brother, who was face down on the bed, hugging the pillow, snoring loudly. Only then did she gaze up at Gideon from her wheelchair, one eyebrow raised. “So, you and Dré are really together, huh?”

Okay. He was in no way prepared for an interrogation by a fifteen-year-old, but he would take it. For André. And for Jules. “Why don’t I get dressed and we can talk, huh?” It didn’t feel appropriate to stand in front of her wearing a pair of loose pants and nothing else. He glanced at the bodyguard he’d assigned to her, who stood a little ways off to the side, then back to Jules. “Have you eaten?” He looked over his shoulder at the digital clock on the nightstand on André’s side of the bed. Almost one p.m. He and André had crashed—hard—when they’d gotten in from meeting with The Council.

“I had breakfast,” she told him.

“Then you and I can have lunch. Give me a minute.” He tossed her a wink, then closed the door gently in her face with a soft chuckle. The way the siblings loved each other, he’d known that sooner or later Jules would want to give him a speech, and he would listen and take it to heart. He respected André’s little sister more than Gideon respected the man who was actually complicit in his lover’s birth.

He dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt and pulled the covers up over André before he exited the bedroom. With a tilt of his chin, he dismissed Jules’s bodyguard, and Gideon pushed her wheelchair as they made their way down to the kitchen. He was still so fucking tired he could’ve slept for another ten hours, but his body was trained to rise at a certain time, so there he was, smothering a yawn as he entered the kitchen.

He greeted the chef and the couple of other people in there, grunting his thanks when the chef immediately poured him a cup of coffee. At the large kitchen table off to the side and out of the way of the people in charge of making his food, he joined Jules, who studied him with narrowed eyes.

“How come you don’t use the actual dining room?” she asked.

The room in question was a formal dining room, very opulent, large enough to host at least a fifty-person dinner party. “The kitchen feels more like home,” he told her. It reminded him of being young and sitting down with his parents for a meal. Ironically, he and his family had shared their meals in a formal area, but it wasn’t the same. Unlike his dining room, being in the kitchen felt homey, warm, and intimate.

He guzzled his coffee, holding the cup in both hands, eyes closed, but all the while he felt Jules’s gaze on him. “Something on your mind, Miss Juliette?” He didn’t open his eyes when he urged her, “You can speak. I’m listening.”

“Sir.”

He lifted his lashes to find the chef standing over his table.

“Anything in particular you’d like us to prepare for your meal?”

“A sandwich. The way I like it, please.” He held up the cup. “More coffee. What about you, Miss Juliette? What do you feel like eating?”

She shrugged. “A sandwich is fine.”

“Very well.” The chef topped off Gideon’s coffee, then turned away. “Sandwiches coming right up.”

“Thank you,” Gideon called after him before refocusing on Jules. “You were saying?”

“Do you love him? Do you love Dré?” There was worry in her brown eyes. Worry for her brother. Fear too.

Gideon didn’t like it, not one bit. He didn’t like that those two had been on their own, fending for themselves and having only each other to look out for them, for so long. He didn’t like that Jules—at such a young age—already had such an adult and maybe even jaded view of things. He reached over to her, palm up on the table, and after a small hesitation, she placed her hand in his.

Gideon linked their fingers, squeezing her gently. “I love your brother very much. I am in love with him, yes.” He nodded. “And as you are a part of him, I love you too, Miss Juliette.”

Her lips trembled and she blinked rapidly.

“I will never hurt André or allow another soul to hurt him. I will never hurt or allow anyone to do the same to you. I already told him, now I’m telling you, you are safe with me. Every part of you.”

She stared at him and he smiled.

“Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” Her voice wobbled but she got the word out, and it filled him with the warmest, most tender sensation.

Staring into Jules’s shining eyes, holding her shaking hand, it hit Gideon then. All this time he’d thought his purpose was destroying The Council. He’d thought it’d been finding out the identity of who’d killed his mother. But now, he was coming to suspect that his purpose was this.

André and Jules.

To love them and to be loved by them, in return. To protect them. To have a true family with them.

He released Jules and sat back slowly.

His father had loved him fiercely, completely, but Aldo had also been a man grieving the loss of his wife and his son, since Gideon had to be in hiding, away from him. They saw each other in person, but those instances had been few and far between. Their relationship, for the most part, had been conducted over video and phone calls. Aldo had been his teacher, his commander, honing Gideon into the man his father wanted him to be. The man Aldo couldn’t be. And Gideon had taken up that mantle because it’d been all he knew. All he’d been fed—revenge, payback, destruction.

Now, staring at that young lady across the table, he wanted the things he’d never once considered back when he’d been learning ten thousand ways to destroy a man without killing him. He wanted a family. He wanted a love that was all his and unconditional.

“Are we gonna be living here with you from now on?” Jules asked as if reading his mind.

Gideon chuckled. “That’s not something your brother and I have discussed, but if and when we do, you’ll know.” It was what he wanted, though. But was it too soon to broach that topic with André?

They settled into silence, Gideon staring into his coffee cup. When was the right time to ask André to move in with him? And would he say yes if Gideon did ask? He wasn’t sure.

The chef brought their food a short time later and they dug in, Gideon humming in appreciation. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d eaten. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked Jules.

She didn’t look up from her plate. “Nothing. Well, I have to talk to that therapist you and Dré got me.” She lifted her head then, rolling her eyes. “And then I have a project that I have to put the finishing touches on before I turn it in.” She was attending classes remotely—after Gideon had a nice video chat with the principal of her school—and seemed to be doing well so far, though both he and André knew that Jules missed seeing her friends and socializing.

He had to wrap up his business, or at least ensure that it was safe enough for her to return to the life she knew and loved. He didn’t want her isolated the way he’d been growing up.

“The therapist is nonnegotiable, so don’t even think about missing any appointments.” After all she’d experienced lately, it had been imperative that they got her to speak to a professional. “Want to have dinner with your brother and me? You can choose the menu.” He’d noticed that Jules liked being included in things, and he tried to make sure she always was. It was worth it, especially when she smiled so widely.

“I would like that. Thanks, G.”

“Nope.” He wagged a finger at her. “We’re not doing that. You, Miss Juliette, can only call me by my full name.” He wasn’t serious though, and she knew it because she laughed with a mouth full of food as Samir entered the kitchen, expression somber.

“It’s begun,” Samir told him.

The plans Gideon had set in place, everything he’d laid out for André on the plane, was happening. If this was any other time, he would’ve gotten up from the table and run to watch it unfold, but not now. Right now, he would sit and enjoy his meal with Jules. He lifted a fork in a mock salute to Samir as Jules’s confused gaze ping-ponged between the two of them. “One domino down…”

Soon they would all fall.

André came awake to a warm wet mouth wrapped around his dick and slurping noises filling his ears. He moaned, widening his thighs without opening his eyes, and reached down, palming the back of Gideon’s bobbing head.

“Hmm.” He rolled his hips lazily until fingers, wet with saliva and pre-cum, breached his ass, and then his eyes flew open, legs lifting as well. “Gideon, fuck!”

Gideon chuckled, and the sound vibrated down the length of André’s shaft, making his eyes roll back in his head. He arched, fisting Gideon’s short hair and bucking into his mouth, down his throat. He shuddered at the sounds the two of them made together, the symphony of pleasure that filled the room. And he floated, lost to the heat melting his bones as Gideon sucked the life out of him.

Gideon’s fingers kept thrusting inside of André, curved to press against his spot while his tongue incapacitated him.

“Shit. I’m coming! Gideon, fuck!” Just like that, André was shaking, ass muscles clenching and cum spurting into Gideon’s waiting mouth. His hips jerked as Gideon didn’t pause sucking him, not for a moment, emptying his balls until André had nothing.

Not even air in his lungs.

He fell back against the pillows and eventually Gideon eased off him, allowing André’s spent dick to slide out of his mouth, fingers dragging out of him. André’s breath hitched, his entire body quivering.

Gideon kissed his way up André’s body, then dropped onto the bed next to him, cupping André’s face. “Are you okay?”

André smelled himself on Gideon’s breath, spotted a drop of cum at the corner of his mouth, and leaned forward, tongue flicking out to clean it up. Gideon moaned, lips parting, begging for André’s tongue, so André gave it to him while reaching between them, into Gideon’s underwear, and fisting his erection.

He liked it when Gideon moaned. It was a low, rumbling thing that never failed to bring goose bumps to the surface of André’s skin. And he liked it when Gideon’s hips rolled, his swollen dick with the wet tip plunging in and out of André’s grip. André kept kissing him, wild and hungry as he jerked the other man off. Their tongues twisted, wrapping around each other as they panted into the kiss.

“Come for me,” he growled into Gideon’s mouth, and Gideon did with a low whine, hot cum spurting over André’s knuckles. More than anything else, André loved that he had the power he had, to command the Winters. He kept tugging on Gideon’s shaft while tongue-fucking him, and Gideon clung to him, his breaths harsh and body jerking.

André felt powerful within their dynamic because Gideon had done everything to empower him. But in bed, knowing he could do whatever he wanted and the other man would let him? That was something else entirely.

He finally released Gideon, wiping his sticky hands on the sheets. They lay on their sides facing each other, panting, bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of their orgasms.

“Are you okay?” André repeated Gideon’s question back to him.

His eyes were closed but Gideon opened them, meeting André’s gaze. The haze of orgasm was already fading from his blue eyes and his lips curved before he answered. “When I’m with you, I am.”

But when he wasn’t with André? He touched Gideon’s face, absentmindedly stroking his cheek. He was in the middle of it now with Gideon, so he had an up-close-and-personal look at how the sausage was made, as it were. People on the outside looking in would only see the money and the status, the power. They didn’t know anything else about the man behind the powerful name. André had been one of those people once upon a time, judging a man he didn’t know based on brief snippets of shit he saw in the media. He was so thankful that he’d gotten to know the true Gideon Winters.

He was also thankful that he’d put his unfounded bias aside. Otherwise, he would have lost out on this.

“Anything you wanna talk about?” he asked.

Gideon breathed deeply, then shook his head. “Yes, but not right now.” He sat up, regret in his eyes. “I have a meeting that I can’t miss. And I want you there with me.”

“Okay.” André sat up as well. “Whatever you need.”

“I promised Juliette we’ll have dinner with her tonight.” Gideon got out of bed and stripped off his underwear. “So, we need to get going.” Striding past the clothes scattered on the floor, clothes he’d likely taken off before joining André in the bed, he entered the bathroom and André followed.

“What’s the meeting about?”

Gideon didn’t look at him as he turned the shower on. “That plan I told you about on the plane?” He glanced over his shoulder and André nodded. “It’s already in motion. I need to ensure the next step is in place, so that’s what we’re doing.”

That didn’t really explain much, but André didn’t call the other man out on it. He knew Gideon would go into more detail whenever he felt ready.

They showered, taking turns washing each other. Their bodies responded to the soft touches and kisses they kept pausing to sneak in, but they didn’t take it further than sucking on each other’s tongues. When they were finished, they got dressed, André in a suit matching Gideon’s. A suit Gideon had provided for him, in his size and everything. A suit André would’ve never bought for himself simply because he couldn’t…the designer was that expensive.

When they were dressed, Gideon eyed him with a lick of his lips and lust in his eyes. André chuckled and took a step back.

“Don’t look at me like that. We don’t have time for whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“We could make time.” Gideon closed the distance between them, hands landing on André’s hips, burying his face in André’s neck and inhaling deeply. “You smell so good.”

His breath on André’s skin had him shivering, and he brought his hands up, tunneling fingers through Gideon’s hair and jerking his head back. Kissing him. A peck at first. And then they were tonguing each other down, grinding on each other. Gideon’s hands dropped from André’s hips to smooth over his ass cheeks before cupping them, squeezing just as a knock came on the door.

“G.”

Gideon released a despondent moan at the sound of Samir’s voice. “No.”

His sentiments exactly, but… “Looks like we have to go,” André murmured against his lips. “I’ll make it up to you later though.”

“You’d better.” Gideon pecked him one last time, then blew out a breath and stepped back, tugging on his jacket and then smoothing his hair. “Let’s go.” He held out a hand for André as he opened the door to find Samir eyeing them with full-on judgment in his eyes. As if he knew what they’d been about to do.

“Ready?” Samir lifted an eyebrow.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” Gideon told him.

They took the helicopter. And this time every last one of Gideon’s core team of bodyguards was present. Something big was going down. He held his tongue and didn’t ask questions. Not even when they landed about twenty-five minutes later and were quickly ushered into blacked-out SUVs. André just held Gideon’s hand, half listening as his man talked to Samir and the others.

He almost drifted off to sleep until they came to a halt at a restaurant. Well, they were in the back alley of a restaurant that André didn’t know the name of. He and Gideon waited until the bodyguards exited first, then Gideon got out and helped André down.

When André straightened and looked around, he bit back even more questions that formed on his tongue. Men dressed in black, wearing serious expressions and earpieces, were positioned all around them. They weren’t Gideon’s men.

Leaning over, he asked Gideon in a whisper, “Who are we meeting?” Had to be somebody big. Somebody important. Even Gideon didn’t have that many bodyguards around him when he went out.

A back door opened before Gideon could answer, and someone stood in the doorway. “Mister Winters.” The woman—white, who appeared to be in her thirties, with long red hair and dressed in black trousers and a cream blouse—motioned for Gideon to follow her. “This way, please.” She was familiar, but André couldn’t place her.

Gideon followed, holding on to André’s hand. Samir and the others brought up the rear.

The woman paused. “Your people will have to remain here, Mister Winters.”

“No, they will not.” Gideon didn’t break his stride, nor did his tone leave any room for follow-up conversation.

The woman let it go and they entered the restaurant’s kitchen. It was empty. Sparkling clean, smelling like cleaning products. No sight of food anywhere, which reminded André that he hadn’t eaten anything since he’d woken up.

Even more men in black were posted up inside the restaurant. He still hadn’t gotten an answer to his question of who they would be meeting.

The familiar-looking woman led them past the silent sentries and into the restaurant’s dining area. It was dimmer than it should have been, as if someone had forgotten to change out the expired light bulbs. It took André a minute to realize that the place was closed up. No daylight came in because the windows were all closed and shuttered.

It was empty, save for one table where a man sat waiting. His head had been tilted up as he spoke to the other person standing next to him, but as they entered the room, he glanced in their direction.

André’s steps faltered.

The president?

“We’re meeting with the president?” he hissed at Gideon.

“Hm-hm.”

“Of the United States?” The question was shrill, but seriously, what the fuck?

“Gideon, my boy.” The president got to his feet slowly and Gideon released André, walking over and clasping hands with the older man.

The. President. My God. What was life right now? André stared at the two of them without blinking. Now the men in black made sense. But so many other things didn’t. He and Gideon hadn’t even been searched. Shouldn’t they have been before being in the same room with the president? But then he remembered how Gideon had spoken to the woman with the red hair.

And he wondered, between Gideon and the man he was shaking hands with, which one of them actually held the most power?

“Mister President. Good to see you again.” Gideon turned toward André, beaming as he waved him over. “Allow me to introduce you to someone special.”

24

Gideon glanced at André from the corner of his eye. The other man hadn’t said anything since they left their brief meeting with the president half an hour ago. His lover hadn’t even asked where they were headed when their driver detoured from the way back to the airstrip.

“You okay?” He nudged André with his shoulder. After being introduced to the president, André had gone off and stood with Samir and the others—André’s decision, not Gideon’s—while Gideon conducted business. So André hadn’t been privy to the discussion and many plays that were in motion. Gideon had expected him to ask about it as soon as they got back to the vehicle, but he hadn’t.

At his question, André turned to him, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, just trying to wrap my head around all that’s transpired in the past few hours.”

That made sense, but Gideon didn’t like it when André was quiet. He loved listening to the other man’s voice. “Want to talk about it?”

“Why don’t you tell me what the meeting was about?”

That he could do. Gideon settled back in his seat, throwing a hand around André’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Joseph Morrow is the member of The Council I told you I’m about to get rid of, remember?”

“I do.”

“Well, I didn’t tell you the specifics. Morrow has a long history of holding young girls hostage and sexually assaulting and torturing them.” He didn’t allow André’s gasp to stop the flow of words. “I have actual footage of it. Of him in the act. That was taken by my father when I was still in hiding. My dad knew we would have to remove members, and he made sure to get dirt on all of them.” He didn’t know how his father was able to do it, to deal with those people while maintaining his focus on the long game. Gideon was already losing fucking patience with those motherfuckers. “In the videos, Morrow is talking about it.” Disgust twisted up his insides. “Not just talking, but boasting, gleefully bragging about all the barbaric shit he gets up to.”

“So, your father knew about all this years ago and just what…kept it a secret until the right time presented itself?”

Gideon understood the sentiment behind André’s incredulity and didn’t attempt to make any excuses for it. “Yes. And I did the same because my father and I knew that Morrow’s money and connections would easily sweep it under the rug if we didn’t have a failsafe, a backup plan in place. It took a while for that to happen, but it has. Finally.”

André leaned back, meeting his eyes in dawning comprehension. “That’s what the meeting with the president was about?”

Gideon nodded. “Yes. Morrow got arrested but will no doubt make bail. We expect it, but the videos will all be leaked online the minute he walks out of the courthouse. Everything is in detail. His own words and actions will be used against him.”

“Okay.” André dragged the word out. “But what comes after that? Because from what I’m learning, every single one of the members of The Council is corrupt and fucked up—” He rolled his eyes when Gideon fake-gasped and touched a hand to his chest. “Yes, even you. So why would they get rid of Morrow?”

Gideon cupped André’s jaw, stroking his skin as he spoke. “When she was fifteen years old, Nivea Arceneaux disappeared from a mall, taken right from under the watchful eyes of her bodyguards. She’s been missing for three years. Weeks ago, she was rescued from Morrow’s dungeon.” He didn’t need to tell André that he’d been behind the rescue. “Her family doesn’t know it yet—as per her request—but she’s in a facility being treated for the damage Morrow did to her body and her mind.” He swallowed. No matter what his plans were, it wasn’t easy being witness to evil like the evil Joseph Morrow perpetuated. That man had to go. Permanently. “She is the granddaughter of Robert Vale.”

André’s eyes bulged. “He’s on The Council.”

“Yes. Joseph Morrow kidnapped the granddaughter of a fellow member of The Council and held her captive for three years, all the while offering Vale and his family his help and resources in trying to find Nivea.”

“Goddamn.” André blinked. Then blinked again. “That’s-that’s diabolical.” He shuddered. “How can people like that exist?”

“Easily.” Gideon hated to tell him, but… “They get to live and thrive because they surround themselves with money and power and people who would enable their deviances. There’s a reason Morrow ensured his spot on The Council, it made him untouchable, and he was…until he took Nivea. My father had to pretend to have the same proclivities as him in order to get close, to get him to lower his guard.” He felt sick at the thought. “Robert Vale will get to deliver Morrow’s death sentence. And Morrow’s proxy, his son-in-law, will not be allowed to take his seat. That I will make sure of.”

André swallowed. “You’re gonna kill him?”

“Yes.” Gideon blew out a breath. “Morrow has two daughters, one who’s a socialite and the apple of his eye, married to the man who is his current proxy. And the other has been estranged from her family for close to twenty years. She’s a civil rights attorney and is engaged to be married to the president’s son.”

“Ah.” André smiled. “Now the picture is getting clearer.”

Gideon chuckled. “Is it?” He kissed André’s nose. “Amy, Morrow’s estranged daughter, has zero connections to her father. Her fiancé comes with his own money, his own power, and his own connections.”

“The biggest being the president?”

“Nah.” Gideon waved a hand in dismissal. “The biggest being the reclusive Saudi prince he’s fucking in secret.”

André coughed in shock. “Jesus.”

“I know.” Gideon shrugged. “What can I say, finding out people’s secrets is a gift.”

André shook his head, though his expression held zero judgment. “So you’ll blackmail the president’s son into taking Morrow’s seat and work and spy for you?”

“He’ll report to his father, which is what The Council will expect. The president will talk him into accepting the position, and it’s through the president that I will give Alexander instructions on what to do and when and how to do it. I also have a few names I’m kicking around for choice of his proxy.” In putting a buffer between himself and Alexander, the president’s son, it removed any suspicion that The Council might have about Gideon.

“And Prislaya’s empty seat?”

“That remains as is for now. As the one who holds the purse strings, they can’t put anyone in there unless I’m onboard. And I’m not.”

“Oh, so you got it like that?”

“I do.” It was just a matter of fact.

“But now that you’ve filled your father’s seat, you’ll need your own proxy. Won’t you?”

“I had Samir sworn in as my proxy the moment it was confirmed that I was who I claimed to be,” Gideon told him. “You haven’t asked where we’re going.” He gently elbowed André, who leaned against him.

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Gideon gazed at him, greedily drinking in his features. He especially liked that sparkle in André’s eyes. The softness of his expression as their gazes held. “You trust me.” That was… It humbled him. Made him feel as if he didn’t deserve it. Made him want to do anything he could to ensure he never lost it.

“I do.” André pursed his lips, silently begging for a kiss, and Gideon gave it to him. Softly at first, just the press of lips. Then André parted for him, inviting him in, and Gideon swept in with a low moan.

That easily he lost himself in André. Oblivious to the other members of his team who were up front in the SUV as they sped along the highway. It was only them, he and André, lost in their own world. In each other.

Until Samir cleared his throat. “Morrow made bail. He’s holding a press conference, talking about baseless allegations.”

Gideon reluctantly lifted his head from André and licked his lips. “Have our techs release the videos. One each hour beginning immediately after Morrow wraps the press conference.” He eased away from André. “We’re going to see your father.”

André froze, eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck would we do that?”

“Because Ennis will be the one to put Alexander’s name up for nomination as Morrow’s replacement. I can’t do it, otherwise they’d suspect I have an agenda.”

“Which you do,” André so helpfully pointed out.

“Which I do, but they can’t know that yet.”

“Okay, but why would Ennis do anything for you? You killed his daughter, his lover, and left him stranded out in the middle of nowhere.”

Gideon didn’t need reminding. And he’d do all of it all over again. “I think your father would do anything if you asked it of him.”

André stared at him.

Gideon stared back.

André broke first. “Ugh. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” Smile splitting his face, Gideon pressed his forehead to André’s. “I’m very lucky.”

André stared.

Gideon’s driver had pulled up to a gate that was at least seven feet tall. Between that and the abundance of large trees, he couldn’t see anything of what was hidden beyond. He hadn’t known where Ennis lived, but clearly Gideon knew. A part of André didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to lay eyes on the man who’d fathered him, but Gideon had asked him for this favor.

The least André could do was try.

“Up to you,” Gideon told him gently. “We could leave and I’ll figure out another way if this is too much for you.”

André didn’t know what it was to him yet, but he knew he couldn’t disappoint Gideon, so he just shook his head and climbed out of the vehicle, Gideon following closely behind. There was a guard booth near the inside of the gate, but it was too far away from him to see or talk to whoever was inside. He pressed the buzzer on the retaining wall on the outside of the gate and waited for someone to respond.

They didn’t make him wait. “What do you want?”

Okay, rude much? “I’m here to see Ennis.”

“Who are you?”

“Tell him André is outside.” The sooner they got this over with, the better. Gideon stood next to him, silent and watchful, on guard as they waited. “What if he refuses to see me?” he muttered to Gideon.

A hand settled on his lower back and Gideon leaned in. “Your old man is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one,” he said softly. “He won’t pass up a chance to see you.”

Maybe Gideon was putting too much faith in Ennis. All his father seemed to want was a way to get André away from Gideon, and that definitely wasn’t happening.

A low clank sounded and they spun around, watching as the gates opened. Gideon glanced at him, eyebrows raised in a told you gesture. Rolling his eyes, André grabbed Gideon’s hand and tugged him back to the vehicle.

They had to drive almost a quarter of a mile more before they arrived at the massive house. André frowned as he exited the SUV and stood with hands on his hips. This was where Ennis lived? Where he raised his daughter while ignoring André’s existence? It all seemed so over-the-top.

Or was that just his bitterness talking?

Armed men appeared, approaching them from all sides. Huh. Someone had upped his security since the last time he’d tangled with Gideon. Gideon didn’t protest when they were told they would need to be searched, so André didn’t either.

“They’re staying out here,” Gideon said, voice barely above a growl when Ennis’s men turned to Samir and the others in Gideon’s security detail.

André hiked a brow at that. “Is that a good idea?” he asked Gideon out of the corner of his mouth. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Ennis will shoot you the moment he sees your face.” And the thought had him ready to drag Gideon back into the vehicle and drive them far away.

If he was concerned, Gideon didn’t show it. Instead, he shrugged. “He can try.”

“Okay, stop.” André placed a hand on Gideon’s chest, glaring into his eyes. “You are not fucking bulletproof, nor are you invincible. Stop acting as if you’re not flesh and blood.” It terrified him how nonchalant Gideon was about his own safety.

“I’m fine.” Gideon wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gaze searching their surroundings before he dropped a quick kiss to André’s lips. “I know what I am,” he murmured. “And I know what I’m not. Your father can’t touch me. He knows better.”

André released a sigh. Maybe that kind of delusion came with being a Winters; he wouldn’t know. But he wouldn’t leave Gideon’s side, no matter what happened beyond those doors.

They held hands, just him and Gideon following Ennis’s men into the mansion. The outside might have been a monstrosity but the inside felt…like a home. As if an actual family lived there. And they had. Just not him. Not André. Resentment flared and he swallowed the bitterness as their footfalls echoed on pristine white floors. Proof of Ennis’s wealth was everywhere—in the oil paintings and gold chandeliers.

Hell, even the painted walls looked like money.

“You okay?”

He nodded at Gideon’s question but didn’t look at the other man. He just might break down. He just might turn around and walk out, never looking back, always hating the man who didn’t raise him.

They were led to an office, its door already open, and waved in. Gideon entered first. Then André. The door closed behind him as he met the back of the man who’d fathered him.

Ennis stood at a window, staring out at his expansive and perfectly manicured grounds, a hand in the pocket of his dark slacks. Guess he was feeling better. André tore his gaze off the older man to study his surroundings. The office was just like everything else in his father’s house: enormous. Furnished in rich supple leather and black. Lots of plaques and paintings.

Pictures all over the walls of Ennis and people André recognized, like his dead wife and his dead daughter. Other members of The Council, billionaire businessmen, and foreign dignitaries.

None of André, though.

And why had he expected anything else?

“You have some fucking nerve.” Ennis moved away from the window, facing them with a scowl. “You come into my home after all the shit you did?” he spat at Gideon, who regarded him with an impassive expression. “You think you’re untouchable?”

“He’s not,” André answered. “You just can’t touch him.”

Ennis turned to him. “You need to get away from him. He’s not good for you.”

André shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m the one who gets to decide, not you.” He glanced around. “Now, this isn’t a social call. We have things to discuss.”

Ennis held his gaze for a beat, then barked out a laugh. “You sound like him.” He shook his head, expression mournful. “Wow.”

Sounding like Gideon was a good thing in André’s opinion, so he ignored Ennis’s words. “Joseph Morrow is on his way off The Council.” He got down to business. “Alexander Grant will be taking his place; you just need to present the offer to him.”

Ennis blinked at him. “What?”

“You need⁠—”

Ennis slashed a hand through the air, waving away his words. “That’s not you. Telling people what to do is his role.” He jabbed a finger in Gideon’s direction. “What, suddenly you’re doing his work for him?”

“I could make you do what I want.” Gideon spoke for the first time. “But I was trying to help you save face in front of your son. Get Alexander to agree to take Morrow’s seat.”

“You can’t make me do shit,” Ennis told him, eyes narrowed. “You think⁠—”

“Maybe he can’t,” André said, cutting him off. “But I can. I hear you and Alexander run in the same circles, so you shouldn’t have any problems getting him to agree to what we want by this time tomorrow.”

Ennis straightened, folding his arms as he stared at André as if truly seeing him for the first time. He moved gingerly, André realized, likely still dealing with the effects of being ambushed and shot. The one where his daughter sent men to kill him. He still had her up on his walls and still showcased her everywhere, though. And where were his pictures of André? Hidden in a box in some dark basement?

If he even had any.

“You’re really embracing this new life, aren’t you?” Ennis eyed him up and down. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I’m your son, aren’t I?” André challenged him. “Some would say I was born into this life.” He felt Gideon’s gaze on him, his lover’s pride and love and satisfaction. And that urged André to be bolder. “What I don’t know, I’ll learn.” A smile graced his lips, and he couldn’t help glancing at Gideon. “I have the best teacher.”

Silence settled around the three of them; Ennis’s gaze locked on André’s, Gideon off to the side just watching them, allowing André to handle the situation however he wanted to.

“That’s what I want,” Ennis said finally. Softly.

“What?”

“You.” He stepped forward, eyes pleading. “I want my son.”

André felt Gideon tense. And he swallowed the automatic rejection that formed on his tongue as Ennis continued.

“I want to have my son in my life. It’s time.”

André cocked his head. “Is it? Funny how it wasn’t time when your wife was alive, when my mother was alive, when your darling daughter was alive. But now, you’re alone. You’re getting old and you’re all alone in this big, echoing house. So now you want your son in your life?”

“I always wanted you,” Ennis rasped. “Always.”

“Hmm. I can’t help but notice I’m nowhere on your walls.” He made a show of looking around. “But the child you raised, the one who tried to end your life, remains. All I ever got from you was dollars in my back account every month.” He chuckled, the sound cutting off when Gideon moved to stand at his side, his shoulder brushing André’s. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Get Alexander to agree to what I want. Not Gideon, me.” He tapped a finger to his chest. “And I’ll see if I have room in my life for the father who didn’t want me.”

“André—”

He ignored Ennis’s plea and walked out of the office, Gideon at his side, ignoring the security guys who guided them out of the house and outside to where Samir and the others waited, surrounded by armed men.

Gideon’s team didn’t seem to mind.

And they didn’t ask questions when André and Gideon climbed into the SUV. Gideon’s arm went around André as they drove off Ennis’s palatial estate.

“Are you okay?”

No. He hated that he was still affected by Ennis’s rejection of him. He hated that a part of him had wanted to agree, to say yes when Ennis said he wanted his son. Because the boy inside of André wanted his father.

But he didn’t know if he could trust Ennis. He didn’t know if he could forget all the years when he felt unwanted and unloved by the man who’d contributed to his life.

His tongue felt paralyzed though. He couldn’t say those words to Gideon, so he just shook his head, burying his face in the other man’s neck.

While his eyes burned with tears.

25

If Jules thought something was off with her brother, she didn’t mention it.

André had been extra quiet since they left Ennis’s place, and now Gideon was beating himself up for insisting André be the one to make the request of his father. He’d fucked up and was trying desperately to figure out a way to fix it. André hadn’t been ready, but Gideon had forced the issue, making the plans and only letting André in on them when they were on their way to see Ennis.

He’d fucked up.

They were back home and had shared dinner with Jules, who’d done most of the talking, with André contributing single-word responses and grunts every now and then. At least dinner was over now and Jules was watching a movie with some of the kitchen staff. That gave Gideon the chance to make things up to André.

“Come on.” He got up from the table and held out a hand.

Though curiosity lit his eyes, André didn’t hesitate to put his hand in Gideon’s, to allow Gideon to gently pull him to his feet. Gideon didn’t release him; instead, he tugged the other man to his chest, pressing a kiss to his neck before leading André up to his bedroom. Inside, he closed the door and backed André up against it, taking his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry.”

André blinked at him. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have let you go to Ennis.” He swallowed, guilt and remorse roughening his voice. “I fucked up, baby. And I’m so sorry.”

André shook his head. “No. Gideon, no. It’s fine.” Now he was the one touching Gideon’s face, soothing him. “You’re fine.” He sighed, then pressed his lips together briefly. “I’m just… It’s all so complicated, you know?”

Gideon didn’t know what it meant to not have his father around. Even when he was in hiding, Aldo had been there. If not in person, then via a phone call, letters, anything. So no, Gideon couldn’t really understand not having a father around who he knew loved him beyond reason. But he’d lost his mother. He could relate to how it felt, wanting your parent around and not having them.

“Part of me wants nothing to do with him,” André said as they held each other. “And the other part wants what I never had, what he’s offering.”

“It’s okay to feel that though.” Gideon pulled away and began unbuttoning André’s shirt and removing it. “It’s okay to be scared but to want it anyway.”

André peered at him through his lashes. “You have experience with that?”

Sinking to his knees before André, Gideon grinned up at him. “Loving you.” He dipped his gaze to focus on removing André’s belt and undoing his pants, ignoring the growing bugle beyond the zipper, before bringing his gaze back to André’s. “Loving you wasn’t part of the plan,” he confessed, tone soft. “Caring for you, when you’re the son of my enemy?” He shook his head. “Sometimes, I imagine my father rolling over in his grave.”

“Gideon.” André’s eyes got all sad and he cupped Gideon’s jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He caught André’s hand, kissing the knuckles. “I’m not sorry. Besides, I think my father would surprise me. I think he would love you and he would approve of me pivoting to a plan that didn’t involve hurting you.”

André’s lips trembled as he stared down at Gideon. “But your father loved you.”

And Ennis loved him, but Gideon didn’t think André was ready to hear that. Instead, he pulled André’s pants and underwear down his hips. “Lift your foot.”

André followed his instructions, lifting one foot then the other as Gideon removed his shoes, and when Gideon tossed his clothes to the side, he asked, “Is there a reason you’re stripping me bare, Winters?”

“Yep.” Gideon stood, ignoring the way his body stirred at the sight of André standing before him in nothing but skin. Smooth, glorious brown skin. “I’m gonna bathe you. Then you’ll get a massage by these hands.” He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers.

André smiled. “A massage, huh? Does it come with a happy ending?”

“Play your cards right and it just might.” He winked and André laughed and everything felt right. Everything felt as it should be. He wanted to make André laugh for the rest of his life, he realized as he motioned for André to enter the bathroom ahead of him. He ogled that ass, pert and taut, and started making plans. Plans that would ensure he got to have André, that he got the privilege to make the other man laugh, for the rest of both their lives.

He was supposed to bathe André, but somehow Gideon found himself in the bath too, the two of them washing each other’s back. He heard his phone going off where he’d left it in his pocket back in the bedroom.

There were a million things happening at the moment, things he needed to keep on top of. But nothing was as important as making André smile, or hearing his roaring laughter when Gideon tickled him and he thrashed about in the bath, sending water splashing over the lip of the tub onto the floor. It took a lot to refrain from sitting André on his dick that throbbed and bobbed between them in the water, but he wanted to do this. Wanted to take care of André. Wanted to make him his sole focus. His soul’s focus.

They touched. Because Gideon didn’t have that much self-control. If André was close, then Gideon’s hands just had to be on him. And André did the same, fingers trailing down Gideon’s chest, across his shoulder.

By the time he climbed out of the bath and held a towel open for André, Gideon was a mess of arousal. But he held it together, drying André and ignoring his own wet skin before bringing his lover back to the bedroom and positioning him face down on the bed. After retrieving all the stuff he needed, he straddled the back of André's legs and went to work massaging André with oils that had the room smelling like citrus.

Every groan André uttered echoed in Gideon’s chest. Taking care of André like this gave him pleasure. Made him feel proud that he could do it at all. Of all the plans he’d had when he’d emerged from the shadows, love had been nowhere on the list. Aldo had planned for all contingencies except that one. But he meant what he’d told André. He knew his father, and he was confident that Aldo would’ve championed Gideon's love for André. And his father would’ve been the first one to suggest they find other ways to implement their plans.

Because his father had loved him.

As Gideon kneaded the tight muscles in André’s back, he thought back to their visit to Ennis. As much as he wished he didn’t have to admit it, Ennis loved his son. He’d been earnest when he’d told André he wanted him in his life. And André wanted it too. He was just afraid to want it, to voice it, and then be disappointed. Gideon understood, but he couldn’t see how those two could move past their issues.

Unless he helped them.

It was, after all, his duty to give André whatever his heart desired.

Snores reached his ears and he paused.

André was asleep.

He chuckled, climbing off the slumbering man and cleaning up, washing his hands and putting the oils away. His phone went off just as he was about to crawl into bed next to his man, and he grabbed it up quickly so it wouldn’t rouse André.

“Yeah,” he answered the call.

“Alexander Grant is on board.” Ennis. As if Gideon’s thoughts had conjured him. “He has agreed to take Morrow’s seat.”

“Excellent.” It happened sooner than he’d expected, but it wasn’t as if Gideon had any doubts that it would happen.

“This is you, isn’t it? What’s happening with Morrow, that’s all you.”

Gideon’s gaze flicked to André snoring inches away. “What is happening with Morrow?”

Ennis snorted. “You’re playing God with the wrong people’s lives, Winters. Nothing good can come of it.”

“As far as you’re concerned, I am God because I can give you what you want.”

“What do I want?”

Okay, so he was gonna make Gideon spell it out. He rolled his eyes. “You want your son. I have him.”

“You—”

“I have his ear and his heart.”

Ennis paused, his heavy breathing the only thing Gideon heard. But he already knew what the response would be. He didn’t bluff and he didn’t play games he couldn’t win.

“What do you want in return?”

Gideon smiled as he dimmed the lights and got into bed. “I want to know who killed my mother.” He brushed his lips to André’s temple, lowering his voice when he told Ennis, “You have information.” That wasn’t a question. He knew the older man had information. “Dinner tomorrow night. I’ll have Samir send you the details, but Ennis, you’d better come prepared to spill secrets. Otherwise, you won’t leave my presence alive, and I can almost guarantee you that your son will help me bury your body.”

He ended the call and tossed the phone aside, cuddling up to André and inhaling deeply.

“Almost there,” he whispered to his father, to his mother, because he had no doubt they were together. “Almost there.”

André opened his eyes to the sound of Gideon snoring. He smiled and rolled onto his side to face the other man. He didn’t recall falling asleep last night. The last thing he remembered was Gideon massaging him and how good it felt. His nakedness told him that he’d fallen asleep under Gideon’s hands.

Now, André studied the sleeping man next to him.

He looked peaceful, lashes brushing his cheek, hair a tousled mess. He liked all iterations of Gideon Winters, but André really liked when the other man slowed down. There were a million things pulling Gideon in a million different directions on a daily basis but he never complained. He always looked good handling business. And he’d put all that aside to take care of André last night.

Maybe André could do the same for him.

He got up carefully from the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom, closing the door so he wouldn’t wake Gideon as he used the facilities and brushed his teeth. When he was done with that, he returned to the bedroom and crawled into the bed.

He tugged the covers off Gideon and took him in, lips lifting in appreciation. The sleeping man wore only black briefs, and André had never seen a finer specimen, honestly. He could barely remember what the men who’d come before looked like when he had a veritable feast spread out before him. Gideon was all golden skin and muscles, and André wanted to lap him the fuck up.

He dipped his head, pressing kisses to Gideon’s knees, spreading them wider and nuzzling the inside of his thigh until he got to his groin. He pressed his face to Gideon’s crotch, inhaling with a deep moan that echoed.

Except that wasn’t his moan.

That was— He lifted his head then, gaze clashing with Gideon’s half-opened blue eyes. André winked and pulled Gideon’s underwear down, ripping them off and tossing them aside.

“Baby.”

The raw scratchiness in his voice had André shivering. “You took care of me last night,” he murmured against Gideon’s hip. “Now it’s my turn to take care of you.” He fisted Gideon’s dick, stroking it a couple of times, then holding it at the base as he ran his tongue over the crown.

Gideon cried out, arching.

André tightened his grip, dragging his tongue down the length of him. Then up. Over the crown. Repeating that movement over and over while Gideon bucked and writhed under him. André’s mouth watered, Gideon’s salty flavor hitting his taste buds just right. He relished it, moaning as he laved the dick in his mouth, tonguing Gideon down until his entire length was soaked and dripping and his hips were circling.

André pushed his throbbing dick into the mattress. He ached, but he focused on Gideon, on making him feel good, taking him apart.

He sucked Gideon into his mouth, and Gideon’s hand settled on the top of his head as André bobbed and weaved on the dick that pulsed against his tongue, pre-cum spilling and flooding his mouth. His eyes closed on a moan, all his senses locked in on Gideon—his taste, his texture, the weight of him.

Gideon held on to him but his touch was gentle. He wasn’t forcing André to take him deeper, wasn’t ramming his way down André’s throat. André took it upon himself to sink onto him, taking him as far as he could. Not stopping until his nose was practically buried in Gideon’s pubes, his eyes were watering, and his throat was convulsing.

“Fuck.” Gideon’s nails dug into the back of his neck. “André. Shit.” His ass came off the bed as he circled his hips.

André retreated and Gideon slid out of his mouth as saliva spilled down André’s chin, soaking them both. With both palms flat atop Gideon’s thighs, André dipped his head again, taking him back into his mouth, slurping him up all while he fucked the bed. Gideon’s grunts and moans filled his ears, as did André’s own pants and the wet sounds he made as he gobbled up the dick.

He moved one hand from Gideon’s thigh and fisted his balls.

Gideon moaned his name, his body vibrating under André’s touch. Releasing him, André inched lower, pushing Gideon’s thighs up with both hands and dragging his stiffened tongue from his balls to his ass.

“Ugh. Fuck.” He liked how Gideon’s vocabulary disintegrated as if he could no longer access his words.

And pride filled André because that was all because of him. Gideon only ever presented as cool, calm, and composed to the outside world. But André knew better because he knew the things to do to get the powerful Gideon Winters stammering.

So he did them.

Using the tip of his tongue to circle Gideon’s hole, then flattening and dragging it over the same spot. Gideon’s legs trembled, his heavy grunts filling the room as he pushed back on André, silently begging for more.

André gave him what he couldn’t seem to articulate, tonguing his hole until it was drenched, then inserting a finger, pressing in and punching deep while Gideon cried out and spread his legs wider. His own aching body was forgotten as André made it his mission, his entire identity at that moment, to make Gideon fall apart. Alternating between sucking his balls into his mouth one by one and licking his hole as he drove one, then two fingers in and out.

Gideon rode his face, fucking himself on André’s fingers.

Crying out.

Calling André’s name in a hoarse and broken voice.

André finger fucked him through it all, ramming into Gideon’s clenching body over and over, hitting that spot, his spot, until Gideon seized up, bellowing out his release as he came. It was the way his body squeezed around André’s digits that had him spilling onto the sheets, coming on himself.

He kept fucking the mattress as he wrung everything he could from Gideon, before pulling his fingers out and sagging onto him, his head half on, half off Gideon’s right thigh. Their harsh, heaving breaths echoed and Gideon petted him, touching the top of his head, his ears, and his brow.

They didn’t move for a long time.

Until André just had to get up because remaining in his own cum was not his idea of relaxation. He made his way to the bathroom on unsteady legs and cleaned himself up, then got a wet rag and did the same to Gideon. And the whole time he was wiping cum off Gideon’s pubes and lower belly, the other man was stroking André—his thigh, his side, his butt.

André discarded the rag and got onto the bed, careful of the wet spot. He’d cleaned up the mess, but the sheets would have to be changed in a little bit. When he had the strength to do it. For now, Gideon pulled him into his arms, kissing André’s eyes, his nose, his lips.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

André smiled into the kiss. “For making you come?”

“No, smartass.” Gideon’s eyes twinkled. “For taking care of me.”

André stroked his hair. “That’s what we do, right? We take care of each other.”

“Yeah.” Gideon brought their foreheads together. “Yeah.”

André hummed and kissed him again. “Go take your shower. I’m gonna have the chef make all your favorite breakfast foods and send it up.”

Gideon pulled back, studying André with a gaze that was heavy, but not in a bad way. Just…heavy with appreciation. With gratitude. André was glad he’d let his instincts guide his actions. For all the money he had, for all the power he wielded, Gideon Winters was just a man who wanted to be loved, appreciated, and cared for. André would gladly take on the responsibility.

“Go.” He tapped Gideon’s shoulder lightly. “I know you have a lot of things waiting to be handled.”

“I can put them off.”

“No, you can’t. Or maybe you could, but I don’t want you to.” He cupped Gideon’s jaw. “The sooner you get it taken care of, the sooner we can get back to moments like these.”

Gideon’s smile bloomed like a fucking flower in slow motion. “I want more of these moments,” he admitted softly.

“Me too,” André whispered, pecking his lips. “Me too. Now go wash up.”

Gideon bounded out of bed with a chuckle and André watched his retreat with a happy sigh. Yes, there definitely would be more of these moments.

26

André wore a suit that probably cost as much as someone’s six-month salary.

And he sat next to Gideon in the helicopter, not knowing exactly where they were headed. But he knew they were going to dinner and who they would be sharing it with. He’d been surprised when Gideon told him they would be having dinner with Ennis.

Fucking Ennis.

He squirmed in his seat beside Gideon and the other man cupped his knee, squeezing him gently. André hadn’t said much once he’d gotten dressed in the perfectly tailored suit Gideon had provided for him. He looked good in the oxblood and black combo, he couldn’t lie. And Gideon just wore black, all black, but he did look mouthwatering.

If André had a preference, it would’ve been for them to stay home in bed and never come out until they were both dehydrated from coming too much. He definitely didn’t want to have to deal with Ennis and his begging to be a part of André’s life or the anger on his face whenever he looked at Gideon.

André could do without that.

But he’d agreed to come because this was important to Gideon. Ennis had information about who killed Gideon’s mother, and André would do anything—even break bread with the man who’d denied him—in order to get Gideon the answers he craved.

His eyes widened and he turned, staring out the window to his right. They were over water, in the middle of the ocean somewhere, the setting sun making the blue water glow and shimmer. But it was the massive yacht that they were clearly headed toward that made him turn to Gideon with his mouth agape.

Gideon glanced at him and grinned. “Close your mouth, baby,” he said, speaking through the headsets they both wore.

“We’re having dinner on a fucking yacht? Whose— Never mind.” He was involved with The Gideon Winters. It was easy to forget sometimes about the wealth Gideon possessed.

A yacht.

He shook his head as the helicopter landed. He didn’t know if he would ever get used to this. One of the members of Gideon’s security team—the only woman, named Will—approached the chopper, and André spotted Ennis standing off to the side.

“He’s here already?”

“Yeah,” Gideon answered. “I had Will bring him earlier.”

André stared at Gideon, eyes narrowed. “You made him wait for us? For how long?”

“For as long as it took. He’s not the one in charge here and he needs to know it.” Gideon grabbed his hand. “Ready?”

André shrugged. “As I’ll ever be.”

Gideon paused, searching his face. “Listen, as much as I would like to know what information Ennis has, this dinner isn’t all about that. I believe he wants to know you, wants to build a relationship with you, and I think deep down inside you want the same. This could be your chance.” He mimicked André’s shrug. “But, if the way he looks at you, or the way he chews, or the way he fucking breaths offends you, then I will have his ass tossed overboard in a minute.”

André scoffed. “Something tells me you would have done that regardless.”

“I might, depends on how this dinner goes.” Gideon brushed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Come on.” He released André and got out, then turned, offering André his hand.

He put his hand in Gideon’s, allowing his lover to help him out of the helicopter. Together they made their way over to where Ennis stood with his arms folded.

“How is he?” Gideon asked Will, jerking his chin in Ennis’s direction.

She chuckled. “Pissed that he couldn’t bring any of his own security.”

André’s brow lifted at that. Ennis had agreed to come out into the middle of the ocean, to have dinner with Gideon Winters on his mega yacht, without any kind of protection?

Was his father brave or just foolish?

When they stood in front of Ennis, the older man scowled. “I’ve been here for two fucking hours!”

“Be grateful,” Gideon told him, all nonchalant. “Could’ve been more.” He linked his fingers with André’s. “You hungry, babe?”

“I could eat.”

“Let’s do that then.”

Night had fallen by the time the three of them were seated at a table outside, under the stars, the water all around them. Gideon’s people were present, but out of sight.

André sipped his wine, feeling Ennis’s eyes on him. In his favor, the older man hadn’t done much talking since they’d sat down to partake in the five-course meal the award-winning chef Gideon hired for the evening had prepared for them. Bits of stilted conversation about shit that didn’t matter had punctuated the entirety of their dinner.

“What was the reason I wasn’t allowed to bring my bodyguards with me?” Ennis asked Gideon after the servers had placed their dessert in front of them and walked away.

“I don’t trust you.” Gideon shrugged. “Besides, why would you need security while sharing a meal with your long-lost son?”

“And I don’t trust you,” Ennis shot back. “Yet here I am, surrounded by all your armed men.”

André sighed around the forkful of delicious confection melting on his tongue. “Well, took you two long enough, huh?” He’d expected them to start going after each other the moment they sat down, but at least they had the decency to wait until after André’s belly was full of food he couldn’t even pronounce. Both men looked at him. “Why don’t we get down to the heart of the matter, hm? No sense in pretending.” He paused. “Do you know who is responsible for Gideon’s mother’s death?” he asked his father.

Next to him, he felt the sudden tension that flooded Gideon’s body. He lowered a hand between them, stroking Gideon’s thigh in an effort to soothe him, though he wasn’t sure if it would work or for how long it would last.

“What do you plan to do with this information?” Ennis asked Gideon, who stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Kill everyone involved,” Gideon responded harshly. “That’s what I plan to do.” His nostrils flared, muscles tight under André’s palm. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’re stalling.”

Ennis faced him squarely. “I am here only because I love my son and I want to do right by him.”

“Fuck you,” Gideon spat. “You only suddenly decided you wanted to do right by him when you found out he was with me.”

“Hey.” André nudged him with his shoulder. “Let’s take it down a notch. Please.” He understood Gideon’s anger and frustration but didn’t want the situation to get out of control. “Tell us what you know and we’ll all go our separate ways.”

Ennis glanced away briefly before meeting André’s eyes. “That’s not what I want. I don’t want us to go our separate ways.” His eyes beseeched André even as he said, “Although, I don’t know how that happens after today.”

It was André’s turn to stiffen. “What does that mean?” He watched Ennis’s Adam’s apple surge. “Who killed Gabriella Winters?”

“I did,” Ennis whispered. “I killed her.”

Before that could fully register, Ennis was on the floor and Gideon was standing over him with a gun in his face.

André jumped up. “Gideon!”

Armed men peeled away from the shadows, encroaching on them with their weapons drawn. André froze, his hammering heart plunging to the soles of his feet.

“You killed my mother?” Gideon roared, his body trembling as he pressed the gun harder against Ennis’s forehead. “You fucking⁠—”

“I was given a choice…” Ennis lifted his chin, meeting Gideon’s crazed eyes. “Your mother or André. I chose my son.”

Gideon’s entire body shook. The hate, the anger, the remembered agony of just what he’d lost, vibrated through him. Relief too, that he was finally getting answers. But his hand remained steady. The gun in Ennis’s face didn’t waver, not once.

Because Gideon knew what he had to do. He knew.

He’d suspected Ennis—just as he’d suspected every single member of The Council—of being behind his mother’s death. Behind the second attempt at Gideon’s assassination. But hearing it now, knowing the truth, he wanted to toss the gun aside and tear the man on the ground apart with his bare hands.

“They gave me a choice.” Ennis wasn’t even looking at him. Instead, his gaze was on André, who was making sounds of distress just over Gideon’s shoulder.

But Gideon couldn’t focus on him.

“I chose you,” Ennis told André.

Gideon swung, smashing the gun into Ennis’s face.

“Gideon! Oh my God!”

He ignored André’s shout. “Don’t look at him,” he snarled at Ennis. “Don’t fucking talk to him.”

Blood ran down Ennis’s temple, but he still didn’t look at Gideon. All his attention was now on the son he claimed to have been protecting.

“I got an envelope one day.” Voice shaking, Ennis’s eyes pleaded with André. “There were pictures of André inside.” He faced Gideon then, with blood running down his face and emotion roughening his voice. Gideon didn’t give a fuck about any of it.

“Speak,” he ordered. He wanted all the details, and then he would make that motherfucker pay. The way he’d been itching to do for so long.

“Photographs of André and his mother were in the envelope, along with a note. The person said they knew who André was to me and that he and his mother would die if the Winters heir wasn’t dead, by my hand, within a week.”

André made a forlorn sound, stepping up to stand beside Gideon. Maybe he was seeking comfort, maybe he was offering his own, but Gideon couldn’t get past the heat of anger, the rush of pain. It was a tight ball stuffed down his windpipe and he couldn’t fucking breathe, couldn’t think. He just wanted to spill more of Ennis’s blood so the sonofabitch could feel what he felt, could experience what he’d experienced. What no child should experience.

“I tried to find out who was behind it, but I couldn’t. And there wasn’t much I could do within The Council, otherwise they would find out about André, and I couldn’t let that happen. His mother didn’t want him exposed to any of that.”

“So, you came for me instead.” The words were garbled to Gideon’s own ears. His fingers flexed on the trigger as he kept the gun pointed at the middle of Ennis’s forehead. “You came for me and you took her in-instead.” The way his voice cracked as he remembered that day. The terror of hiding and then coming out to find his mother on the floor, shot and bleeding out. The agony of begging her not to leave him, telling her she would be okay when he knew, as young as he was, that it was a lie.

His hands covered in her blood.

Her pale skin.

It took years before he stopped seeing it, stopped crying out for her in his sleep. And when he opened his eyes in the darkness, there’d been no one to comfort him because his father had to send him away for fear of losing him too. All those years he’d spent far from home, alone, and here Ennis sat as if it’d been justified. As if it could be explained away.

“Do you know what you took from me?” Gideon asked him. He stepped in closer, legs on either side of Ennis’s body as he stared down at that motherfucker. Voice hoarse, Gideon asked him again, “Do you know what you took from me?”

“Yes.” Ennis didn’t break eye contact. “I do.” There was no remorse. Just like Gideon would feel no remorse for what he would do to him. But first…

“Who was behind it?” If he could even believe anything Ennis had to say in regards to that.

“I never found out.” Here, frustration had the older man’s features twisted up. “After your mother, there was a second note telling me to finish the job. You remained the target, but I said no. I immediately moved André and his mother to a safe house and nobody but me knew where they were. Then I began searching, but nothing ever came up.”

“You tried again,” André said. “You tried to kill him again.” He sounded as if he were crying, and Gideon ached to touch him, comfort him, but he couldn’t. He just…couldn’t.

“I didn’t.” Ennis shook his head. “I was not involved in any other attempts on your life,” he told Gideon. But Gideon knew better than to believe him.

“All these years on The Council, you got a front-row seat to my father’s grief. You sat in his face and watched as he withered away from losing not just my mother, but me.”

“I had to protect my son. If I’d shared what I knew, what I’d done, André would’ve been in even more danger and that could not happen. I will never allow it to happen.”

But he could allow another man to suffer that fate. To bury his wife and send his son off into hiding, not knowing when he’d see him—if he’d ever see him—again.

André let out a sob at his father’s words.

But Gideon, the only thing he felt, the only thing he embraced, was the hate. All he wanted was the oblivion of violence because his wounds—the ones he’d thought were scabbed over—were now raw and bleeding, and somebody had to feel it like he did, somebody had to suffer like he did. He’d been trained for this moment. Had been ready for it for a long time. And here it was. He lifted his head, meeting Samir’s gaze as his head of security stood in front of him, behind Ennis, his gun pointed at the back of Ennis’s head.

“Take him,” he told Samir.

“No!” André grabbed his arm. “Gideon, wait. Please.”

He looked to his side, meeting André’s eyes for the first time since Ennis’s confession. His lover’s eyes were wet, his cheeks tear-streaked. He looked traumatized.

“Don’t.” André’s lips trembled and his gaze darted from Gideon to where Samir and two others were hauling Ennis to his feet. “Please don’t kill him.”

Gideon stared at him. The love he felt for this man was monumental, it was special, it was fucking manna to his soul. He released a sigh and cupped André’s nape, urging him closer so that Gideon could kiss his forehead before bringing their heads together. “I would give you anything,” he whispered as André shook against him. Gideon’s voice was unsteady too, his heart thumping hard and furiously in his chest. Because this moment, this moment, could cost him more than he’d ever expected to lose. “You and your sister have my heart, my soul. You can have everything I possess…” He lifted his head and dropped his hand, stepping away. “But I can’t spare him. I won’t.”

André watched him with wide, heartbroken eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“I don’t want to.”

27

He didn’t recognize Gideon. Not the man who stood before him with all that anger and violence in his eyes. Not the man who’d pointed a gun at Ennis, ready to take his life.

Until that moment, André would’ve said that he didn’t care if Ennis lived or died. He would’ve said there was no way he would ever beg for the life of the man who’d abandoned him to be spared. And honestly, he wasn’t even sure how it happened, how it came to be that he was begging Gideon to spare Ennis’s life.

But he did.

He’d begged.

And Gideon denied him.

André wanted to hate him for that. He watched through wet eyes that felt swollen as Samir yanked Ennis to his feet while the others surrounded them with guns drawn and pointed at Ennis—his back, his temple, his face. He couldn’t believe that the man who’d fathered him had tried to kill a child. Gideon had been a child at that time. Ennis had taken Gideon’s mother’s life instead. Destroying any kind of innocence Gideon might have harbored and in the process ripping him away from the parent he had left.

So much damage had been done.

And still, the moment he saw Gideon put that gun in Ennis’s face, André had to speak up.

The pain Gideon must feel, André couldn’t begin to imagine it. And the fact that Ennis claimed he’d done it all to protect André made him want to throw up. He was the reason. His life was the reason Gideon’s mother had lost hers. He was alive because she wasn’t.

What was he supposed to do with that? How was he supposed to reconcile that in his mind?

He felt just as broken as Gideon looked, had been just as unprepared to hear the full truth, and now that he had…

What came next?

Could he sit back and watch Gideon kill his father and do nothing? Could he have that on his conscience too?

“Gideon.” André reached for him, because even as fucked up as things looked at the moment, he still wanted to give Gideon comfort, still wanted to be there for him. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, what else to do, to make it all make sense. It was because of him, because of André, Gideon had to grow up without a mother and had to live in the shadows, hiding from those who wanted to do him harm. How could Gideon even look at him after that? Would he want to be with André after all of this?

Gideon didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he stood there with the hand holding the gun hanging loose at his side, his head bowed.

“André.”

His body jerked when Ennis said his name.

“Please understand. I had to protect you.” He said it as if that was the only justification any of them needed. “You’re my son.” His voice rose as Samir and the others started dragging him away. “I would do anything for you.”

Anything. He would kill a child and take an innocent woman’s life. For André, who’d asked for none of it.

“André, please. Look at me.”

But André couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t even lift his head. Shame and grief slammed into him and he slapped a hand over his mouth. He’d thought about it, about accepting Ennis into his life. At night while he’d rested in Gideon’s arms, waiting to fall asleep, he’d allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to have Ennis in his life fully. To have his father there, present and claiming him openly. He’d imagined all of it.

Now, there was no chance of that happening.

It felt so much like a loss all over again. Like being abandoned, but so much worse because back then, he hadn’t had a clue who his father was. Now, he knew. Now, he had Ennis claiming to love him, wanting to build a father/son relationship with him. Now, he felt robbed of what could have been.

Maybe he wasn’t meant to have a father. Wasn’t meant to know how it would feel to have that kind of bond. Maybe it just wasn’t for him.

He clutched Gideon’s hand, swallowing down his own pain, his own loss, his own hurt. It wasn’t just his world that had been rocked. Gideon’s had been rocked too. Though the man he loved had been searching for answers, judging by the shock on Gideon’s face and in his posture, André knew Gideon hadn’t expected this.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, wiping his tears. He shifted, releasing Gideon to stand in front of him, lifting his chin with a finger. Anguish bled from Gideon’s eyes when their gazes met. “Tell me what to do for you.” Whatever he could do to atone for what his father had done, though he knew that would be a monumental task.

Gideon stared at him, through him. It was as if he’d become frozen in place. André clasped his face in both hands. “Look at me,” he begged. “Gideon, please. Look at me.”

It took several heartbeats before Gideon seemed to truly focus on him. They weren’t alone, but at that moment it felt as if they were; just the two of them, each man destroyed by what just transpired, but in different ways for different reasons. André was used to not having a father. He was used to that. He could push his pain aside. He could put it on the back burner to be there for Gideon. To be strong as he saw the untouchable Winters weakening under his gaze.

Gideon’s lips moved and André had to strain to make out his words.

“Don’t hate me,” Gideon whispered. “Don’t leave me.” He sounded so fucking broken, grabbing André by the front of his jacket, eyes desperate and pleading now. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never.” André hugged him close, alarmed at the way Gideon’s body shook. “I will never leave you.” As long as Gideon wanted him, André was staying right where he was. Ennis had taken so much from him already; he couldn’t let him take Gideon too. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He kept whispering it against Gideon’s lips, stopping only when Gideon sagged against him.

The move buckled André’s knees and he dropped, taking Gideon with him. And they stayed on the ground, Gideon shaking uncontrollably in André’s arms, André comforting him while ignoring his own heartbreak.

There were a million things to do. Myriad things pulling Gideon in so many different directions. But he couldn’t even focus on them. Suddenly, he couldn’t make a decision to save his life.

He also couldn’t bring himself to do what he’d become so obsessed with lately—spend time with André and his sister. Because when he looked at André, all he saw was Ennis. And when André’s lips moved, all Gideon heard was the man he loved begging him to spare the life of the person who’d killed his mother.

For André. Ennis said he’d done it for André. Because André’s life had been threatened. Gideon couldn’t believe a fucking thing Ennis said, but he still needed to know the truth. He still needed to know if there was truly someone out there who’d called the shots and pulled the strings that eventually led to his mother’s murder.

Or had Ennis just blurted out something in a last-ditch effort to try and save his miserable life?

Gideon would find out. He had everyone working to find answers. And in the meantime, Ennis was locked away in a cold, dark room. Gideon hadn’t seen him since the night on the yacht. That had been three days ago. He couldn’t lay eyes on Ennis without feeling the overwhelming need to put bullets in him as well. But he had to wait.

Bide his time for everything to come out.

And then he would have to kill the father of the man he loved.

He sat back in his chair, scrubbing an agitated hand over his face.

There was a distance between him and André that pained him. He felt it acutely especially since they’d been so entangled in each other, hardly ever out of arms’ reach. They still were, for the most part—sleeping in the same bed and sharing meals with Juliette. But the distance was there, more emotional than physical. And it was because of Gideon’s own doing.

But he couldn’t stop hearing André beg him to spare Ennis even after listening to Ennis’s confession. Even after knowing Gideon’s intention whenever he did find the ones responsible. And André had still asked it of Gideon, with tears in his eyes for the man who’d wronged Gideon so grievously.

“Talk to me.” Samir’s voice shook him from his deep and heavy thoughts, and Gideon refocused on the other man.

This—his office—was where Gideon spent his days now, holing up in there every day immediately after having breakfast with André and Juliette. He didn’t see André again until late in the night, when Gideon crawled into their bed, and even that was torture. He’d entertained the idea of sleeping someplace else, but he was too selfish to pass up the warmth of André’s skin. They didn’t talk except for surface-level shit. And he was hit with the most intense sadness radiating from André whenever their eyes met.

But Gideon didn’t know how to unhear André asking for Ennis to be spared.

“G,” Samir prodded. “Talk to me.”

But he didn’t have anything to say, not really. “Any updates? Do we have anything on Traeger?” So far, no matter how deep they dug, this Traeger dude was turning out to be a goddamn ghost. They could find nothing on him, not even a photograph. It was as if he didn’t exist.

Samir shook his head. His brow was creased in worry as he gazed back at Gideon. “No.”

“Then there’s nothing to talk about.” Gideon shrugged.

“We can talk about why Ennis is still alive.” Samir didn’t break eye contact. “We don’t need him to be breathing. Not anymore.”

They didn’t. No.

He didn’t know that Samir had ever felt anything for anyone that was as remotely close to what Gideon felt for André. They were so locked in, he and André, that Gideon knew André wasn’t asleep when Gideon snuck into their bed late at night. But he never spoke up. And Gideon knew that no matter what André told him that night, no matter what promises fell from André’s lips, his lover might never recover from Gideon killing Ennis.

They might never recover.

And now, it was on Gideon. It fell on his shoulders to figure out which losses he could accept and which ones he just could not let stand. He had to decide who and what died, and though he’d made those types of decisions many times over, this one was different.

The death of his relationship.

Or the demise of all of his and his father’s plans for revenge.

“We have Ennis,” he answered Samir. “He’s not going anywhere, so what’s the big deal? What does it matter when he dies?” Those words were the weakest he’d ever uttered, and he didn’t doubt that Samir caught on to it, but at least his friend didn’t call him on it.

“You talked to your man about any of it?”

Gideon narrowed his eyes, but Samir didn’t heed the warning.

“I think you two should discuss it.”

“He begged me to spare Ennis!” Gideon spat. “He shed tears for that man.” He pointed at the door, throat tight. “What do we have to discuss?” Uttering the words immediately had his breath speeding up, coming louder and louder as he allowed the anger to creep in. He shouldn’t feel that way; he knew that logically. But he did and he couldn’t help it.

He felt torn inside, pulled in two different directions, and he didn’t know which way to go, which one to choose. Either one would destroy him.

“He loves his father,” Samir uttered. “You know what that’s like.”

But their circumstances were not the same, he and André. “Fuck.” Elbows on his desk, he placed his fists on either side of his head, knuckles rapping not-so-gently. “No matter what I choose, I lose.”

“Maybe. And maybe you just have to figure out which losses you can live with and which ones you can’t.”

How was he supposed to⁠—

The office door opened abruptly and he jerked his head up as André walked in.

“We need to talk.” He didn’t spare Samir a glance. His gaze, a heavy mix of sadness and defiance, rested on Gideon.

It made his heart race, dampened his palms, and had him swallowing. “We-we’re in a meeting.”

André scowled. “I don’t care.”

Gideon had to dig his heels into the floor to keep from getting to his feet and going to him. Touching him. Fucking him. They hadn’t been intimate since that disaster of a night, and he missed André like he knew he would miss his right hand if it were no longer a part of him.

They stared each other down, he and André, the silence thick and oppressive until Samir stood and cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

Gideon didn’t even notice when Samir left. He just blinked and it was the two of them. The defiance and bravado that had once shown in André’s eyes were gone now, and all that was left was the sadness. Hurt too. Gideon didn’t have to ask to know that he was the reason for it.

He was the cause of André hurting.

He snatched his gaze away, dropping it to his desk, and fumbled with some bullshit papers that were scattered on the surface. “You wanted to talk.”

“I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going⁠—”

“Bullshit! Bullshit, Gideon.” It was as if someone had popped the cork off a champagne bottle and the liquid came forcefully spraying out. “You haven’t said more than five words to me in days. You haven’t touched me. You can barely look at me.” André’s expression crumbled and he deflated just as quickly as he’d exploded. “What’s going on with us?”

Gideon didn’t know how he could answer that shaky query without burying what they had in a coffin six feet deep.

“Gideon, please.” André took a step forward.

“I just need to figure some stuff out,” he said reluctantly.

“And is that stuff us?” André searched his gaze. “You have to figure us out?” When Gideon didn’t immediately respond, André’s throat worked. “I told you I would never leave you. That I could never hate you.”

“But you can’t promise that.” Gideon shot to his feet, rounding the desk and standing in front of the man he loved. “You can’t promise me that, not when the mere thought of me doing to him what he did to my mother has you crying and begging for his life.”

André turned ashen.

“If I do what’s always been the plan, I will lose you.” That was a surety he felt down to his bones. “Maybe not right away, but I will. Because no matter the words you say, my love, you want him in your life. You want what you never had. And I love you too much to knowingly deprive you of your heart’s desire.” He’d had his father’s love, as difficult as it had been at times while hidden away. He’d always known Aldo loved him. Had always felt it. He cupped André’s face, swiping away the tear that streaked down his cheek. “But if I don’t, if I let it go…”

The thought of disappointing his father, of not following through on the promise he’d made his mother that day while her blood soaked his knees and tears blinded him. The thought of allowing the perpetrators who’d taken so much from him, who’d taken something so precious and irreplaceable as his mother’s love and presence in his life, to go free. To live unscathed.

He didn’t know how he could stand it.

“I don’t know what to do,” he confessed in an agonized whisper, forehead touching André’s. “I don’t know what to do.”

André’s arms went around him, holding Gideon in much the same way as he’d done that night on the yacht.

What was he willing to lose? Which pain could Gideon better endure? Because when André held him like this, Gideon swore he’d be willing to give up everything.

Everything.

Except the safety of André’s embrace.

28

And there it was, the truth he’d been too scared to face.

André buried his face in Gideon’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut. He’d known it. From the moment he’d felt the distance between them, he’d known the cause. He just didn’t know the cure, or if there even was one for what they faced. He could deny everything Gideon just said, about André truly wanting Ennis in his life, but that would be a lie, and he wouldn’t knowingly lie to the man he loved.

But he’d believed the words when he’d spoken them back on the yacht. He’d believed that he would be okay with whatever action Gideon decided to take. The Winters family was owed retribution, there was no denying that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Gideon’s collar. “I’m so sorry.” He reared back slightly, taking Gideon’s face in his hands and staring into his eyes. He’d missed him, missed their closeness. André didn’t think he could survive without Gideon anymore. He didn’t think he’d want to. “I love you.” He hated that the words came out sounding so broken, so heavy, but that was the way he felt inside. He had to find a way to fix this space they were in.

Gideon stared at him, expression grave. He looked so tired, so worn down, so fucking sad. André wanted peace for him, for the both of them, but mostly for Gideon. He was the one who’d suffered unimaginable loss and tragedy. He was the one struggling.

“It’s okay.” He smoothed a hand over the other man’s head, fingers stopping to caress his nape. “It’s okay, I promise.” Maybe he was supposed to be the one to believe, the one to have faith. If that were the case, then he would. For the both of them. He pressed his lips to Gideon’s. “It’s okay.” Because one thing he knew for sure was that he refused to lose Gideon.

Gideon’s lips softened under his, parting as he wrapped an arm around André, bringing him tighter into his body. Breath left André in a soft gasp, but he smiled against Gideon’s lips, eyes closing when they kissed—really kissed—for the first time in what felt like forever. Tongues touching, gliding over and along each other, breaths hitching. André opened wider for him, fingers digging into Gideon’s biceps when the other man moved, turning to push André against his desk.

He loved it, his pulse kicking up when Gideon’s kiss switched from calm and gentle to frantic and loud, wild and untamed. His hands tugged at André’s clothes. Unzipped his pants and yanked them and his underwear down his hips.

“Mmm.” Fuck. He bucked when Gideon’s palm circled his cock, stroking it, bringing it to full hardness. André just clung to Gideon, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back. Gideon kissed across his jaw and down his neck, tongue leaving wet trails behind, then dropped to his knees.

André stared down at him, taking in the desperate hunger in Gideon’s eyes and the way his hand trembled against André’s skin. “Gideon.” André reached for him, cupping his jaw, holding his gaze.

Gideon turned his head, pressing a kiss into André’s palm before burying his face in his groin.

“Shit.” He grabbed the edge of the desk for leverage as Gideon took him in his mouth. “Gideon. Damn!” He felt so good, André could cry. He’d gotten used to this, to him, and the few days that he’d been without it had felt like years. Like torture. And now here Gideon was, on his knees with André’s dick in his mouth, and it was the purest kind of bliss.

Hot, wet suction.

He fisted Gideon’s hair with a groan, hips flexing as he eased in and out. He liked it, the way Gideon maintained eye contact even as his eyes watered and the fingers he’d sunk into André’s outer thighs dug deeper and deeper. And he liked the shine Gideon’s saliva gave to his shaft. Gideon’s tongue—André liked that too, especially when it flicked over his crown and dipped into the hole there.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Fist pressed to his mouth, he chanted in time to each thrust as the pleasure swirled in his lower back and belly, toes curled. Too soon. “I’m gonna come,” he whined. “Gideon, please.” It felt so good. And it’d been too long. He didn’t want it to end, wasn’t ready to leave the perfection of Gideon’s mouth. But his eyes were already crossing, heart thundering. “Shit, swallow me then. Swallow it— Ah, yes! Yes!” He came with a shout, slamming forward. Gideon’s throat convulsed around him and André lost speech for a moment there, floundering as he emptied himself.

Gideon didn’t budge, sucking him down, taking every drop André spilled, throat and hands massaging in tandem while André panted and his eyes watered. Until he was weak and useless, sagging back on his elbows on the desk, balls empty.

Gideon cleaned him up with his tongue before retreating. But he didn’t get up off his knees. André dipped his head, locking gazes with him. Gideon’s eyes were red… Hell, his whole face was. His lips were wet and swollen, and as André watched, he licked them.

“I would do anything for you,” Gideon declared, voice scratchy.

André swallowed. “I know.” He couldn’t say he was a man who knew many things for certain, but that he did. And staring down at Gideon, who gazed back with so much love and pain in his eyes, André resolved that he would ensure Gideon held that same certainty about him. About them. He cupped Gideon’s jaw, thumb stroking his bottom lip. “Anybody ever tell you how good you look on your knees, Winters?”

Gideon’s lips curved slightly, and the sight eased something in André’s chest. “Can’t say that they have.”

“Well, you do. You look like you belong there.” André turned serious when he said, “And I want this for the rest of my life.” Anything he had to do to get it, he would.

He swore he saw stars in Gideon’s eyes at his words. Stars and hearts. Gideon Winters was a romantic. Just a man who wanted love and to be loved. Who wanted peace. And he was André’s. He would find a way to give Gideon those things.

“Come up here.” He waited as Gideon came up off his knees, the wet front of his pants giving away the fact that he’d gotten his own pleasure while sucking André off. André clasped his face in his hands, kissing him, tasting himself. “We’re gonna be okay, Winters,” he murmured into the kiss. “I will make sure of it.”

Nivea Arceneaux had the eyes of a wounded bird—wide, terrified, and lost. She sat in a rocking chair next to a pair of large bay windows overlooking a pond where ducks swam and frolicked, her fingers twisted around each other in her lap. She kept her gaze on Gideon, never looking away, as if afraid he would move and she needed to know where he was at all times.

She was eighteen years old now, but she’d experienced something no one should. Her life would forever be different, and Gideon wished so much that he could change things for her.

But he couldn’t.

He could only ensure that the ones responsible for her having been brutalized and tortured for years would be held accountable. Not that this was anything altruistic. He had his reasons, his own agenda. She didn’t trust him much; she didn’t trust anyone much, and he didn’t blame her. But since her rescue, he’d had one of his guys acting as her bodyguard. Kaleb would lay down his life for her, though she probably didn’t know that. Still, from what Gideon had noticed, Nivea had softened the tiniest bit toward Kaleb. She’d gotten used to him being around, and it seemed she at least believed that Kaleb wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Are you ready?” Gideon asked Nivea, and since he’d been studying her closely, he was able to make out her tiny flinch when he spoke.

“Yes.” She nodded, voice lifting just a bit higher when she repeated, “Yes.”

Kaleb stood next to her, his eyes on her. “Your family will be happy to see you,” he told her softly. “I’m sure they miss you.”

She’d begged Gideon not to inform her family the day she’d been rescued. She hadn’t wanted them to see her as she’d been then. But her reprieve was over. Nivea’s family was on their way to the facility where she’d been recovering. They didn’t know why they’d been summoned, though. Gideon had reached out to his fellow council member personally, inviting Robert Vale to a meeting, insisting that he bring his son and daughter-in-law as well. Like others on The Council, Vale didn’t trust Gideon. Robert didn’t appreciate being summoned, wondering out loud if Gideon was leading him into an ambush. As if Gideon needed to go through all that if he actually wanted the old man dead. In the end, Vale had agreed to the meeting when Gideon told him he would owe him.

As in The Winters would be in Vale’s debt. That was a boon no money could buy.

He peered at the watch on his wrist. “You get to tell your family as much or as little as you want, okay?” He’d already gotten whatever information he needed from her when she’d first been rescued. It wasn’t his place to tell her family what happened to her; that was Nivea’s choice to make.

“T-the videos.” Her voice cracked and she licked her lips. “All the videos he made…”

“Destroyed,” Kaleb assured her before Gideon could. “They’ve been destroyed.”

All except one single copy. Gideon had doctored that footage, obscuring Nivea’s face and her voice, and sent it out into the public. Not his finest moment, but it was damning evidence. And he needed surety on that final nail in Joseph Morrow’s coffin.

Nivea’s lips trembled as she fidgeted with the hem of a white dress that fell well past her knees. The dress was sleeveless and all the bruises on her arms were exposed. They were dark purple—new bruises formed on top of old bruises.

“They’re here,” Will said in Gideon’s earpiece. She was positioned downstairs near the front entrance of the million-dollar rehab facility.

“Heard,” he responded to her in a murmur, then told Nivea, “Your family has arrived.”

She paled instantly, fingers twisting around each other, eyes filling with tears. Fuck, just knowing what she’d been through made Gideon wanted to go find the sick bastard Morrow and gut him. He didn’t have a sister, but he had Jules, and he couldn’t imagine something like that happening to André’s sister. Gideon would level a fucking city for Jules. But avenging Nivea wasn’t his place. Morrow wasn’t his kill.

“In the elevator,” Will shared in his ear.

“You’re strong,” Gideon told Nivea. “You survived him because you’re strong. He’s the weak one. And his days are numbered.” Being in the facility meant she had zero access to the outside world and no internet, so she didn’t know about the campaign Gideon had launched to destroy Morrow.

A knock came on the closed door at his back and he spun around, opening it to find Samir with a phone in his hand and a gleam in his eye. He stepped closer to Gideon and whispered, “Joseph Morrow wants a one-on-one. Says he won’t take no for an answer.”

Gideon chuckled darkly. Morrow must suspect Gideon as the one behind his abrupt downfall. “Then tell him I accept. He can pick the time and location, as long as it’s tonight.”

Samir nodded and turned away just as the nearby elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Will exited first, then Robert Vale, as well as his son and daughter-in-law. They were also accompanied by bodyguards who Gideon didn’t spare more than a glance. He stepped just outside the room where Nivea waited, greeting Vale with a nod when the man approached. He was shorter than Gideon, reaching to the middle of his chest, but broad, with a full head of shocked-white hair and piercing blue eyes. His fortune came from oil; some he’d inherited from his father, but most he’d amassed on his own. He was a shrewd businessman, calculated with the risks he took.

“We’re here.” Vale’s gaze bounced around, taking in his surroundings. “If you have a mind to eliminate me, Winters, I can assure you, I won’t be making it easy.”

Gideon grinned and stepped aside, gesturing to the open door. “See for yourself.”

Vale didn’t budge, but the three armed guards with him stepped forward. Gideon shook his head, stepping in front of them to prevent them from advancing farther. “No. Not any of you.” He met Will’s gaze, communicating in silence before he turned to Alicia Arceneaux, Nivea’s mother. She was a tiny slip of a woman with shoulder-length brown hair that nearly matched her eyes perfectly. She clung to her husband with sorrow deeply etched on her face and embedded in every line of her body. She missed her daughter. No one had to say it for him to recognize that ache. He’d seen it in his own father’s eyes whenever they’d been together and especially when they’d parted. “You have no reason to trust me,” he told Alicia. “But I would like you to poke your head into that room. There is someone in there who’s waiting for you.”

“What kind of trick⁠—”

“No trick,” he interrupted Benedict Vale while holding Alicia’s gaze. “No trick. Eliminating any of you serves no purpose for me. In fact, it’s the other way around. I need you alive. So again, this isn’t a trick. Look inside that room, Alicia.”

She glanced from him to her husband. She still didn’t believe him, none of them believed him. He felt the hostility pouring from the bodyguards who were hemmed up by Will and Samir. But then Alicia stepped forward, taking her husband, Benedict, with her as she eased toward the open doorway. Robert tensed, eyes narrowed to flints, distrust and a promise of retribution burning in his eyes when their gazes clashed.

Gideon was staring at Robert when he heard Alicia’s gasp, and he turned in time to watch the woman drop to her knees as she screamed.

“Nivea?” Benedict was the one who spoke first, holding on to his sobbing wife, voice shaking as he laid eyes on his daughter for the first time in three years. “Nivea?”

Robert Vale rushed forward, barging past his son and daughter-in-law and into the room. “Nivea!”

That was the second time Gideon heard a grown man’s wail. The family members entered the room and Kaleb exited, closing the door softly behind him, muting the loud crying as the broken family reunited.

Gideon turned away from the others, closing his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel resentment that he didn’t get to have a reunion. That he would never again see his mother, or have his parents together. That had been stolen from him. He pulled his phone from his pockets, blinking the moisture from his eyes as he called André.

“You did it?” his love asked in greeting.

Before Gideon left the house, he’d shared with André what he’d been about to do. “I did it.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Gideon smiled, the pain in his chest easing just a little. “You know why I’m doing it.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter.” He paused. “How are you feeling?”

“Angry. Sad. Resentful.” The list burst from him.

“I get that and I’m sorry.”

He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” André told him. “Tell me what’s next.”

What’s next was dealing with Joseph Morrow. He turned toward the room where Robert Vale and his family were reuniting, where Nivea was likely telling her family a harrowing tale. “Next is tying up loose ends,” he told André. “Don’t wait up.”

“I will, though.”

Gideon expected nothing less. “Then I’ll see you later. I love you.” He hung up and nodded to Will, who stood next to the tallest of the Vale’s bodyguards. “Take him.”

Before the fucker could blink, Will had disarmed him and put a bullet in the back of his left knee. He dropped to the floor with a scream and his fellow bodyguards went for their weapons, but Samir and Kaleb were already on them, weapons pointed at their heads.

“You.” Gideon approached the one on the ground screaming and stood over him. “Don’t bleed too much. You still have to tell the Vales how much you got paid to hand over Nivea to Joseph Morrow.”

29

Robert Vale wasn’t the type of man who usually got his hands dirty. Gideon knew that for a fact, but the old man seemed very at ease putting a bullet through the eye of the bodyguard who’d betrayed his family and sold Nivea to Joseph Morrow for twenty thousand dollars.

Why the Vales hadn’t checked into the finances of all their employees when Nivea went missing, Gideon didn’t know. He stood back with his arms folded as he watched Vale in action. They’d left the facility, Gideon, Vale, and Gideon’s team made a quick detour to handle the bodyguard, while Nivea’s parents took her home to reunite with the rest of their family, Kaleb in tow at Nivea’s insistence.

As he stared down at the body of the Vale’s former bodyguard, Gideon had the overwhelming urge to get back to André. There was something about the man he loved that soothed him, that wiped out the visions of blood and echoes of gunshots that Gideon had lived with for so long. And now, he just wanted to get things done and over with so he could go back to where he knew he belonged, in André’s arms.

Before André, this was what he’d lived for—spilling blood, exacting revenge. But being around Nivea had brought some things into perspective. Living his life for revenge, always focused on what he’d lost instead of what he had, was the quickest way to lose it all.

He feared losing André more than disappointing his father.

Finally, he could acknowledge it.

So, what was he going to do about it?

“Where are we meeting that son of a bitch?” Vale turned to him, his entire body shaking under the force of his rage.

Gideon understood what he felt all too well. He pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “Place about half an hour from here,” he told Vale. “What’s your move?”

“He doesn’t live past the hour,” Vale snarled. “That’s my move.”

That worked just fine for Gideon. “Let’s go.”

Vale had summoned more of his men and once they arrived, their sizable entourage headed out. Samir remained on the phone, in contact with one of the men Gideon had inside Morrow’s camp. They knew Morrow was already at the meeting place, an empty field with no one around for miles—Gideon smiled at that—and he’d brought four heavily armed men with him. Clearly, he was coming with an agenda, one that involved Gideon’s death.

Before André, the thought of death and dying never even registered. But now, no one would ever take him away from the man he loved. He would always make it back home. Tapping a finger on the phone in his lap, he debated calling André again. Just to hear his voice. Just to tell him he loved him. In the end, he opted not to. But again, he was ready to get back to the penthouse. Ready to crawl into bed and lose himself in the warmth of André’s body.

He was ready for all the things he hadn’t allowed himself to even consider until André came into his life.

The vehicle slowed down, having arrived at their destination, and Gideon shook himself, taking a deep breath. He was ready, too, for the next part of his plan to slot into place. He got out of the SUV, Samir and Will on either side of him as they made their way to where Morrow stood waiting, hidden by bodyguards. Gideon chuckled under his breath. It was always the cowards who seemed to think themselves the baddest.

“Winters.” Morrow stepped past his men, finally showing himself. He looked haggard, nothing like the pompous, untouchable fool he’d been before Gideon set his sights on him. Now, he wore the panicked and frustrated appearance of a man desperately trying to hold on to the last vestiges of his life. But it was like sand, straining through his fingers.

“Morrow.” Gideon glanced around. “Hell of a spot you chose to meet, huh?”

Morrow sneered at him, hatred bright in his eyes. “I know you’re the one behind it. It was you.”

Gideon cocked his head. “Not sure what you mean.”

“You took her!” Morrow lunged at him but Gideon easily sidestepped him, causing the older man to stumble, though he righted himself quickly when Samir shoved a gun in his face.

“You think you can kill me?” Morrow roared. “You can’t touch me. I’m not going anywhere.” He turned toward his bodyguards. “Kill him.” They didn’t budge. “Kill him!”

Gideon laughed at his confused bluster. “Sorry, old man. They work for me now.” He nodded at Morrow’s men and they pulled their guns, grabbing their former boss and forcing him to his knees. “You know, it was nice of you to choose this place. It will be your final resting place, after all.”

“You can’t kill me. The Council⁠—”

Vale got out of his vehicle then and walked over. With each step, Morrow turned paler and paler until he was damn near see-through.

“Hello, Joseph.”

On his knees on the ground, Morrow gaped up at the man who’d been a friend and business partner. “Rob-Robert.” Realization sank in then, the reason why Robert Vale would be there, standing alongside Gideon. “Robert, please.”

“You took my granddaughter.” Vale’s voice shook. “You stole her freedom, her innocence, and her peace of mind. And while you kept her from us, you consoled me. You prayed for me and my family. You stood next to me, giving me support when you were the cause of my pain.”

“R-Robert, I’m sorry.” Sweat dripped down Morrow’s face. “I was wrong, I see that now. I-I’ll get help. My doctors will⁠—”

“Did you think I would let you live?” Vale asked. “Did you think I would just forgive and allow you to continue breathing?”

“You-you can’t. The Council⁠—”

“The Council will never know,” Vale assured him.

“No, they won’t,” Gideon cut in. “But the method of your death is contingent on how you answer my next question,” he told Morrow. “What do you know about my mother’s death?”

Morrow blinked wet eyes. “What? I—” One of the armed guards prodded him in the back of the head with his gun and Morrow swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Now is not the time to hold on to your secrets,” Gideon told him. “You’re dying here, that’s a given. You decide if it will be as simple as a bullet to the head or torture where you’re ripped apart, limb by limb.”

“No.” Morrow reached out to Gideon, who stepped out of his reach. “No, please. I can…” His body shook and he started sobbing, face red and wet. “They wanted to get rid of the Winters’s proxy.”

“Me.”

“Yes.” Morrow nodded at Gideon. “Once the proxy was out of the way, then they’d handle the main seat. They expected your father, Aldo, to be too consumed with grief to put up a fight. Everybody knew how much he loved his son.”

Gideon took a deep breath to try and calm the hot rage that enveloped his body.

“Who are they?”

“Prislaya Chopra brought the idea to me. She said there were others on The Council who wanted to change things up, but she never explained the reasoning behind it. I agreed to the plan because I disliked how Aldo acted as if he was better than me.”

“He was,” Gideon spat.

“I-I know Prislaya reached out to Ennis Canto anonymously, blackmailing him into doing the dirty work by using his secret son. But he botched the first attempt and got cold feet, so they used someone else. I think someone outside of The Council. I was never privy to that information.” Morrow sniffed. “I never knew who the other members were. Prislaya never said. Once you and your mother died, I kept waiting for them to move on Aldo but it never happened. I don’t know why, and I didn’t want to put myself in the crosshairs by asking.”

Gideon stared down at him. More answers produced more questions. There was a lot there to digest, but he wasn’t in the proper headspace to do so. He exhaled and stepped back, nodding to Vale. “He’s all yours.” He walked off.

“No, wait. No!” Morrow screamed at his back, but Gideon never turned around. He made his way to the vehicle and got inside, the blast of a gunshot barely registering as he sat in silence.

Prislaya was dead now, and he wished he’d made her suffer when he’d killed her. But she was dead. He would turn her life inside out and learn her secrets. All of them.

A knock came on the window next to him and he rolled it down, nodding at Robert Vale. “Done?”

“I am.” Vale sized him up. “I didn’t know about their plan for your family. I’m sorry.”

“I know, and thank you.” Aldo hadn’t cared much for Robert Vale, but he’d told Gideon that Vale was ultimately someone they could trust.

Vale studied him for a few more seconds. “You want something from me, don’t you? That’s why you did all this.”

Smart man. “They were right. Changes will be coming to The Council,” Gideon told him. “I want your vote, your support, and your resources.”

“You have it.” Something in his gaze softened. “Your father loved you. Anyone who knew Aldo knew just how much he loved you, and I think he would be proud of you.”

Gideon swallowed.

“You are a million times more ruthless than he’d ever been, and that fucker was as bloodthirsty as they come.”

Gideon chuckled. “He taught me everything I know.”

“I see that.” Vale nodded in approval. “You will find the answers, Gideon. I know you will.” He patted Gideon’s shoulder, then strode off.

Gideon stared after him, blinking the emotion from his eyes. When he’d learned about Ennis’s involvement in his mother’s death, he’d doubted if he could make Aldo proud. But he knew now that he could. He might take a different route than originally planned, but he would.

Now, he was going home to the man he knew was waiting for him.

If this was any other time, he’d already be planning his next strike, moving pieces on the chess board.

But that was before André.

30

The dip of the mattress roused André from sleep. But it was the brush of soft lips to the back of his neck that had him inhaling and turning onto his back. A heavy body pressed him down and he released a sigh of contentment. And of relief. His spirit never truly settled until Gideon was back beside him. He’d tried staying up but apparently, he’d fallen asleep at some point. He lifted heavy eyelids to find Gideon peering down at him with half a smile.

“You’re home,” he whispered just as Gideon kissed him. André moaned, eyes dropping closed once more. Gideon was naked, his limbs gliding against André’s the way their tongues did.

He lifted his legs and wrapped them around Gideon’s waist, hands sliding up his shoulders into his hair, gripping, tugging, his back arching when Gideon broke the kiss and dragged his tongue down André’s throat, licking and nipping.

André wore only his underwear, and as Gideon kissed his way down his chest, he ripped them off, tossing them aside. Nails dragged down his sides, causing his body to arch off the bed. Gideon kissed him, open-mouthed hungry kisses, wet with lust that raised goose bumps on André’s skin and had his legs lifting to the ceiling. And when Gideon buried his face in André’s groin, pausing to inhale him loudly, André choked on what saliva was left in his mouth.

“Fuck.” It was a broken whisper, all he could afford since he was busy bucking against Gideon’s face when the other man’s fingers wrapped around his length. “Gi-Gideon.”

His lover grunted, probably because he was too busy flattening his tongue down the side of André’s shaft. Goddamn. That touch, coupled with a hint of teeth and the tight grip of Gideon’s fist, had André melting, panting, whimpering. Then Gideon took him into his mouth fully and André swore he blacked out. His hips moved as if on their own, rocking, thrusting into Gideon’s mouth, fucking him, hard and fast, knocking his head back with every plunge down his throat.

Gideon hung on to him with nails in André’s upper thighs, nails that he then raked down André’s skin. Fuck! A silent scream opened his mouth wide, but nothing came out. All sounds began and ended in his throat, though he managed to sling a leg over Gideon’s shoulder. Gideon pulled on André’s balls, a fingertip grazing his hole, tapping against it before he pushed both of André’s legs back, licking his hole.

That was the moment André found his voice.

His words.

“Ah fuck, Gideon!” He yanked on Gideon’s hair but that didn’t cause even a falter in his actions. He ate André’s ass with loud, appreciative moans.

He was the best ass eater, a champion at it. Face all up in André’s ass as if he was trying to remain imprinted there, wet, stiffened tongue burrowing into him, fingers dipping in too. Scissoring, stretching. André rocked back on his face, riding the finger, his tongue. Anything Gideon gave, he took.

Felt like hours, but also like no time at all. Gideon didn’t appear to be in a rush, and André wasn’t about to stop him. He lay back, legs and ass in the air, his aching cock dripping. Riding against Gideon’s face, he stroked himself, pre-cum slicking his fingers. Through it all, he cried out Gideon’s name until he was hoarse, until his throat ached.

Gideon finally pulled away and sat back, meeting André’s eyes as he licked his lips while squirting lube onto his hands and then smearing it on himself. Then his fingers were back, double digits slick with lube spearing into André, wetting him up even more.

André spread his legs wide, struggling to keep his eyes open. The pleasure, as always, was blinding. Teeth in his bottom lip, he held Gideon’s stare even as his limbs shuddered. Felt as if his bones vibrated from the rush of heated arousal in Gideon’s eyes. Even in the dim light of their bedroom, there was no mistaking the love that glowed in his blue orbs as he took himself in hand and brought his dick to André’s hole.

Nostrils flaring, Gideon held his gaze as he fed himself inside, inch by thick inch, while André’s body struggled to take him. It was like this every time. But André loved it. Loved how Gideon had to coax his body open, had to force him to take it. Something about that pain and discomfort was the hottest. A desperate thrill danced up and down his spine. And it felt as if a hand was around his throat, blocking any sound. Myriad sensations sent his senses into a frenzy. Fuck if he didn’t crave it.

Gideon finally hit bottom and they both inhaled, bodies freezing momentarily.

“I love you.” That couldn’t be Gideon’s voice. He sounded as if he was gritting his teeth, as if he was in pain, as if he teetered on the edge of ruin.

“I love you, too,” André panted. He managed to get his limbs to work just long enough to reach out and touch Gideon’s face, pulling him close, legs locking around his waist. Gideon lowered himself to André’s chest. And with their faces inches apart, breaths mingling, André kissed him. Easing his head back, he took in the way Gideon’s lashes fluttered, and inside him, Gideon’s dick jerked and thickened. “I love you so much.”

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Gideon murmured against his lips.

André’s body tightened. “Mmmm, yes.” Please.

“I’m gonna come inside you. Fill you up until you overflow.” Teeth nipped André’s lower lip. “Till you leak.”

Had his voice always been that deep, dripping with lust and dark carnal promise? Because André was about to come from just that. His body quaked, hips jerking. “Fuck.” He moaned, nails scratching up and down Gideon’s back. “Please.”

Gideon licked him, a drag of his tongue from André’s chin to his nose, and then he reared back, pulling himself almost all the way out before driving in.

Deep.

“Fuck!” André scrambled to hold on. But Gideon didn’t give him time.

Over and over, he drove in. So hard, André’s teeth rattled and his bones shook. So deep, André felt him in his spine. In his chest. His toes curled and he shoved a hand between their bodies, but Gideon got there first. The both of them ended up stroking André’s dick in time to Gideon’s thrusts.

Head thrown back, his ass came off the bed with each thrust he caught from Gideon. They fucked each other, Gideon’s dick driving to the depths of André’s soul and André riding it without a motherfucking care. Full abandon. No brakes.

He wasn’t even aware of Gideon shifting positions, but he found himself choking around Gideon’s tongue in his mouth, tasting blood when their teeth banged. They kissed. But no, that wasn’t even the correct description for the way they ate each other’s mouths. Saliva dripping, teeth tearing, lips attempting to soothe.

It was nasty perfection.

And it wasn’t long before André was melting, coming with a low cry that Gideon snatched away with his mouth. André clenched around him, muscles squeezing until Gideon grunted, fingers spasming on André’s hips, almost as if the other man was tapping out. Finally, Gideon was coming too, burying his face in André’s neck as he pounded into him. André felt every bit of it, shuddering when Gideon’s cum heated him up from the inside out. He wrapped both arms around Gideon, holding his shaking body, stroking his hair.

Their ragged breathing filled the room, hearts thundering in the aftermath as their bodies struggled to regulate. Gideon clung to him, and André clung right back.

When his brain righted itself enough for him to formulate questions about what happened tonight with Gideon’s plan, he didn’t ask.

That could wait.

After a while, he kissed Gideon’s temple and rolled away from under him. The other man was already falling asleep. André hobbled to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, then returned with a wet towel to take care of a now snoring Gideon.

André smiled down at him.

He wanted to be Gideon’s safe space. His peace. Whatever he had to do to protect what they had, what they were building, he would. He’d never wanted to do that with anyone else, not even his ex. But for Gideon, he would do it all.

He climbed back into bed, holding Gideon in his arms, watching him sleep. When the first rays of morning sun appeared through their window, he carefully got up from the bed, ensured that Gideon was still asleep, and quickly got dressed. He tiptoed out of the bedroom, using a second bedroom down the hall to wash his face and brush his teeth since he didn’t want to chance waking Gideon. Then he made his way downstairs.

He found Samir in the kitchen, scowling into a cup of tea.

“Morning,” André greeted him. “Take me to my father.”

Samir faced him with a raised eyebrow.

“No, Gideon doesn’t know, and he won’t, not yet.” André wasn’t asking. “Let’s go.” If he wanted a future with Gideon, then André would have to really deal with his father.

It was time.

He’d expected to find Ennis in a dungeon somewhere, shackled and beaten and bloodied, too.

Instead, when Samir unlocked the warehouse’s heavy iron door that groaned when it swung open, André found his father sitting on the floor in the middle of the large, empty, and echoing space, armed men wearing masks and big guns standing off in the corners.

Ennis’s legs were folded under him and his eyes were closed. He appeared to be meditating.

André ignored the other men in the room as he studied his father. He no longer resembled the aloof billionaire one would see on television or in the glossy magazines. He looked as if he’d been stripped of something and as if it hurt. If André wasn’t in the know, if he wasn’t privy to all of Ennis’s sins, he might have felt sorry for him.

Samir jerked a finger and the armed men filed out of the space, leaving the three of them alone. Only then did Ennis open his eyes. They were filled with happy surprise when they landed on André, only for that happiness to die a quick death when his gaze shifted to Samir. Ennis froze, staring at the hulking man.

“You only have a short amount of time,” Samir told André. “Use it quickly.” He didn’t like that André had basically forced him to bring him here, though André knew no one could force Samir to do anything he didn’t want to. The other man just hated that they hadn’t consulted Gideon before leaving the penthouse.

“André.” Ennis got up from the floor, fidgeting from foot to foot as his gaze bounced between André and Samir. “You’re here.”

“I am.” Walking over, André stood in front of him. He understood the hope in Ennis’s eyes but had nothing for him.

“Come.” Ennis waved him over to a pair of metal chairs that were randomly placed off to the side. “Sit with me.”

Samir moved as they did, skirting the perimeter of the room, and it seemed his presence, or at least something about him, made Ennis uneasy. That made sense. Samir was calm, hardly ever speaking, but he was a killer. You only had to look at him to know that. Maybe in another life, André wouldn’t have known or picked up on it, but he’d been around Gideon and his people long enough to sharpen his discernment.

Samir was a straight-up killer.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Ennis told him as they sat. “I know the last time we saw each other⁠—”

“The last time we saw each other, you confessed to being responsible for killing the mother of the man I love.” Just speaking those words… It was one of those pinch me moments. If anyone had told him this would be his reality now, he’d have laughed in their face. But this was his world now, and it was partly because of the man sitting across from him.

“I had to save you,” Ennis rushed to explain. “You and your mother. I wanted⁠—”

André held up a hand. He didn’t come to listen to Ennis regurgitate all the excuses he’d spewed on the yacht that night. “When I was ten or eleven years old, I was bullied really badly in school. Calder McGilvery and his group of friends made my life hell. No matter how much my mom complained, nothing happened. Calder’s family was friends with the principal and some local politicians, so basically untouchable. I endured it, took most of their beatings and taunting on the chin.” He shrugged. “I was a skinny kid with zero friends, there wasn’t much else I could do. They would call me poor, the N-word, throw food at me, and pull my pants down in the middle of the gym.”

“André.”

“One evening after school, they cornered me while I was walking home and beat me so badly, I cracked a back tooth and fractured my left arm. Routine shit. Except one of them said something else while I was curled up on the ground, trying to escape their kicks. He said I was a piece of shit and a weak loser and that’s why I didn’t have a father. Because my father must have known I was worthless and wanted nothing to do with me.”

Ennis inhaled sharply.

“Out of all the things they’d done and said to me, that one gutted me. Hurt me to my core, because that was a wound I’d been dragging around for ages, my father not being there. I questioned why he didn’t want me, and those boys, their words seemed to provide the answer.”

“But that’s not true.” Ennis leaned forward and grabbed his arm. “André, that is not the truth.”

“I went home to Mom and I cried in her lap while she cleaned the blood off my face. I asked her why my father didn’t want me. I asked her if she could find him and get him to come protect me from Calder and his friends. I told her to tell my father that I would get straight A’s, I would keep my room clean, and I wouldn’t grumble when she asked me to do the dishes. I would be—” His voice cracked. “I would be the best son ever if he came for me.” He could still hear the desperate wobble in his voice as he begged his mother to find his father. As he bargained. He’d felt that absence so acutely in his soul that day. And he’d wanted to prove those bullies wrong. That he had a father who did indeed love him, who would protect him, who would tear the world apart for him.

“My mother…” He swallowed. “She stroked my head, her voice low as if it hurt her to speak, and she told me that sometimes, no matter how good we were, no matter how deserving, we never get what we want. We can do all the right things, André, and still be treated wrongly. Still be disappointed. Still get our hearts broken. We have to live with that, she said. We have to find a way to live with it. That was all she said, but I heard what she didn’t say. That my father would not be coming for me. That he would not be protecting me, that I would forever be walking around feeling unwanted and unloved by the man who’d fathered me.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, son.” Silent tears trekked down Ennis’s face.

When André stared at him, he thought he saw pieces of himself there, in Ennis’s eyes. In the shape of his nose, the curve of his jaw. He saw himself. As much as he wished he could say otherwise, Ennis was his father. André was his son. He could spend the rest of his life denying it, hating it, or he could use it to his advantage.

“The first time I got on a plane was to see you.” He hadn’t planned on mentioning this, but he might as well. “I traveled to DC. I thought I would come see you.” He had to chuckle at his naivety. “A man stopped me and told me to go back home. That you didn’t want to see me.”

Ennis averted his gaze.

“How did you know I was coming to see you?”

Ennis’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he cleared his throat before turning back to André. “I always had eyes on you and your mother. Prislaya and whoever else she was working with had already threatened your life. I knew if you were to come to me, they would find out, and I didn’t know what would happen, what they would do to you. I had to protect you.” His tone and eyes pleaded with André to hear him, to believe him. “I had to keep you away.”

Did André believe him? Could he? “And the money?” He didn’t bother elaborating.

“You’re still my son,” Ennis said. “I refused to leave you destitute.” Sadness clouded his eyes when he said, “In the end, that was the only thing your mother would accept from me.”

“Was it your idea to nominate Heath Lyndhurst as Aldo Winters’s proxy?” That was still something Gideon didn’t have an explanation for, and André would do anything to get his man answers.

His father sighed. “Lyndhurst was Prislaya’s pick. She chose him but had me be the one to sponsor him so as not to be directly connected to him.” He lifted a shoulder in defeat. “She said she would explain it all later, but Gideon killed her before she could.”

Pity. It seemed Prislaya had a lot to answer for.

Leaning back, André took a deep breath. “Gideon loves me, and it is that love that allows you to keep breathing. If I tell him to, you would be dead before the clock hand touches the next minute.” There was confidence in his voice, confidence he couldn’t hide. Wouldn’t. He spoke the truth and Ennis knew it. “We have plans for The Council. You will continue to hold your seat, but all your votes, all of your support, belong to Gideon. All of your resources too. You will use said resources to figure out who ordered you to go after Gideon all those years ago and who was involved in the second attempt on his life. Everything you do will be monitored by Gideon and his people.” He flicked a glance in Samir’s direction and Ennis stiffened. “Is that clear?”

“The reason I agreed to do what Prislaya wanted was to protect you and your mother. I aligned with her to ensure your safety, André,” Ennis whispered. “All I ever wanted was to protect you.” Hurt and pain bled from his eyes, pouring down his face, but André wasn’t moved by any of it.

“No. All you ever wanted was to protect yourself. To hold on to your wealth, your position, your life.” André shrugged. “I get it.” Now, he did. “Stand on it.” He got to his feet and gazed down at Ennis. He looked different than when André had first arrived—he now appeared withered and broken. “When I have children of my own, there will never be a moment when they have to question their worth or my love, never a moment when they won’t feel my protection or my presence. That’s what you do as a parent, you show up. No matter what it takes. You show up.”

“André, please.” Ennis grabbed his wrist. “I’m so sorry, son. I fucked up, but I love you.”

“You did fuck up.” André nodded. “Now comes the consequences.” He pulled away, striding over to Samir. The door opened and the armed men reentered, their guns trained on Ennis.

“André.”

He ignored Ennis as he addressed Samir. “Um… Can I be the one to tell Gideon⁠—”

“Too late.” Samir pointed to different spots on the ceiling and around the room. “Cameras all over. And mics. He saw and heard everything you just said.”

Shit. He grimaced when Samir’s phone went off. He’d wanted to be the one to explain to Gideon.

“Yeah, G,” Samir answered the phone. His lips twitched and he held the phone out to André, who took it hesitantly, putting it to his ear.

“Gideon, listen. I can explain. I⁠—”

“You want kids?”

31

“You should get a house. With a backyard.”

Gideon smiled as he listened to Jules. “Yeah?” They were in the pool. Well, she was in the pool, lying on a floaty, her fingers dipping in and out of the cool water. He sat at the edge of the pool, his legs in the water as he texted Will and Marco, his tech guy.

“Yeah, with a big backyard, also with a pool and stuff.” She paused, and he looked up to find her studying him with squinted eyes. “You can afford that, right? You’ve got money.”

He chuckled. “I think I can afford it.”

She nodded, gaze remaining on his face. “Why don’t you have a house, though? Do you only have this penthouse?”

He didn’t mind the interrogation that started once he’d told her he wanted her and her brother to stay with him forever. She was being her feisty, helpful self by suggesting things she thought would entice her brother into wanting to stay with Gideon. “I have a house,” he told her. “I think when I last checked, there were five or eight of them.” He owned a lot of property, in and outside of the States, none that he’d actually paid much attention to.

She squealed. “Really?”

“Really.” She looked so happy. He liked making her happy. “I’ll have someone send them to your phone. Pick whichever one you like. If you don’t like any of them, we’ll get a new one.”

Her eyes widened. “And we’ll live there?” she asked, voice hushed in shock.

“If your brother agrees.”

“Oh, he will.” She beamed. “He loves you.”

“And I love him.”

“Awww.”

He rolled his eyes at the blush that heated his cheeks when she clapped her hands together. Aside from André, Jules was the best thing that had happened to him. He loved watching her get excited. The way her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands. He wanted to keep making her as happy as she and her brother made him happy.

“When is André coming back?” she asked. “I’m hungry.”

“He’s on his way back. You wanna go out to lunch?”

“Yes!”

He threw his head back with a laugh. The way she got excited at the little things was precious.

They hung out at the pool for another half hour before his phone dinged to let him know André and Samir had returned from their little excursion. He helped Jules back to her room and then returned to his, where he took a quick shower. When he exited the bathroom, André was sitting on the bed, expression pensive.

His head shot up when he saw Gideon and he got to his feet. “Are you mad that I went to see Ennis?”

“No.” Gideon closed the distance between them, placing a gentle kiss on the other man’s lips. “There’s nothing to be mad about.” He didn’t care about Ennis, not really. “How do you feel after seeing him?”

André clung to him, shrugging. “I mean, I know who he is and who he isn’t now. We might never have the typical father/son relationship and I’m fine with that. The little boy in me might need some time to come to grips with that…” He inhaled then released it. “But I’m okay.”

Gideon hugged him, and André didn’t seem to mind that Gideon’s wet skin was getting his clothes damp. Pressing his lips to André’s temple, Gideon murmured, “You know, you didn’t answer my question.” When André reared back to stare into his eyes, he repeated the question, “Do you want kids?”

André’s eyes glittered, lips curved into a coy smile. “I do, eventually.”

Gideon bit his lip. “And would you want to have those children with me?”

“Who else would it be?” André made a show of looking around. “I’m not currently entertaining any other billionaires.”

Gideon kissed him, licking into his mouth, one hand on his chin, the other wrapped around him, keeping their bodies locked together. He’d come out of hiding for revenge and found love instead. Funny how strange life could be sometimes, but he wouldn’t change anything. Not if it all led him back to this moment, André sighing into his mouth, their tongues twisting around each other, bodies straining together.

André broke away first, panting, lips wet, both palms flat against Gideon’s chest. “How do you feel?” he asked softly. “Your plans⁠—”

“Have taken a detour. The answers I want are out there, along with the people I’m hunting, and I’ll get to them.” He knew that for sure. “But for now…” He reached for André’s belt, unbuckling it as he walked them over to the bed. “I want a quickie with the man I love before I take him and his sister out to lunch.”

André fell back into the bed with a chuckle and Gideon crawled on top of him, sliding his tongue into his mouth.

The quickie was not so quick, but eventually, they left the house, Gideon taking them to a restaurant that Jules picked. He’d wanted to buy out the place for the day so that no one would bother them as they ate, but André was not having it. So instead, they had a separate dining room—usually reserved for special events—to themselves after entering via a back entrance.

Samir and the rest of the team joined them at André’s insistence, the only one missing being Will, since she’d been given an impromptu assignment earlier that day.

His phone dinged and he glanced down at it to see Will had sent him a confirmation of the job with a simple thumbs-up. As Jules laughed and joked with Samir and the others, Gideon glanced over at André as he ate. This had to be what having a family felt like. For a long time, he’d felt alone, even when he had Samir and his team, but the addition of André and Jules felt so good, so right.

They were supposed to be in his life and he was supposed to love them. Protect them. He would do it until he didn’t have breath left, then he would find more—the last vestiges of his life—and keep on going.

For them.

The TV mounted to a corner of the room was tuned to a news channel, where the female reporter was reporting on the suicide death of Joseph Morrow and the news that his estranged daughter would now be the head of his company. Gideon dipped his head, spearing a piece of lettuce with his fork, then bringing it to his mouth. Things were coming together. Not as perfectly as his father would have liked, but they were. The pieces were being shifted into place. The people ultimately responsible for his mother’s death were out there, and he would find them.

Like he’d told André, they had taken a detour, but the ultimate destination remained the same. He was his father’s son; no one got to hurt him and his family and live. Didn’t matter how long it took, he would find them, and they would be made to suffer.

“Oh my God!” André jerked against him. “What—” He stared down at his phone, then up at Gideon with wide eyes.

“What is it?” Jules asked. “Something happened?”

André blinked and swallowed, gaze darting back down to his phone before he told his sister, “Just— Some people I knew from school, um…they died.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know them that well.” But André narrowed his eyes at Gideon and got to his feet. “Gideon, follow me.”

Hmmm. He liked it when André got all commanding. Samir watched him stand with an amused shake of his head and Gideon flipped his friend the finger as he turned and followed André into the private bathroom that came with their dining space. As he walked through the door, André grabbed him by the shirt, hauling him the rest of the way inside and slamming the door behind them.

“What is this?” He shoved his phone at Gideon. “What is this?”

Gideon read the news alert aloud. “Five men died in a mysterious boating accident today on Lake Kaiser. Authorities aren’t saying what caused the accident, only that it’s still very early in the investigation. The men have been identified as Calder McGilvery, Ted Lee, Jeremy Dennis, Phillip Moss, and Saul Dickinson.” He lifted his gaze to André. “What?”

“Those are all the boys that used to bully me in school,” André hissed.

“Huh. That’s…interesting.”

“So, it’s just a coincidence that hours after I mentioned being bullied to Ennis, they’re dead?”

“I mean…” Gideon shrugged.

André stared at him.

Gideon stared back.

André folded his arms, glaring. “There’s gonna be an investigation. Will they find anything?”

“I’m going to marry you one day soon.”

André gaped at him. “Is that a fucking proposal? After you killed five men for me?”

“Is there more I should kill?”

André huffed, but his angry demeanor didn’t linger more than a few seconds. “Whoever you sent, they were careful?”

“Of course. There’s nothing to find,” Gideon assured him, caressing his cheek.

“I hope you know you gotta come better than that when you do propose to me.”

Gideon laughed softly, pulling the other man into his arms. “I know. Jules won’t have it any other way.”

André sighed. “I can’t believe⁠—”

Gideon kissed his words away. “Believe it,” he murmured against André’s lips. “There isn’t a line I wouldn’t cross to protect you. If you’re hurt, I would end the fucking world to find who did it. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gideon.” André patted his chest. “Thank you for loving me.” He exhaled. “Okay, let’s go back before Jules comes looking for us.”

Gideon snorted. “You know she⁠—”

“André? Gideon?”

At the sound of Jules calling them, they met each other’s gaze and doubled over laughing.

Thank you for reading!

Gideon and André’s book is complete but the story continues with Samir and Ennis in CAPTIVE.

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New to Avril Ashton’s dark, dirty, and diverse universe?

The Brooklyn Sinners is where it all starts. Avril’s very first m/m series is full of “drama, action, mystery, suspense, and romance.” And they’re now in KU.

Jonesing for a cop/mafia/gang-style m/m romance? Run This Town series features BDSM, friends to lovers, age gap, second chance and so much more.

Prefer MCs who straddle that gray line between hero and villain? Loose Ends series brings you that plus “stories of angst. Of second chances. And of love.”

In search of the ultimate Enemies to Lovers? The Staniel Duet is the dark, angst-ridden read you’ve been waiting for. It delivers the ultimate “how is this even gonna work?” Spoiler alert…it does.

Complete Series Order

AUTHOR NOTE

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BOOKS BY AV

Brooklyn Sinners series (M/M)

Love the Sinner - Angel and Gabe

Sinner, Savior - Pablo and Shane

A Sinner Born- Syren and Kane

Sinner’s Fall - Mateo and Tommy

Dread+Terrible series (M/M)

Dirty Desire - Dax and Deacon (TABOO)

Remember Me - Eddie and Bishop

Craving You - Preacher and Kannon

Staniel Duet (M/M)

Call the Coroner

Dig Your Grave

Loose Ends series (M/M)

Hidden Scars – Sullivan and Carter

Scars and Secrets – Levi and Donovan

Scars and Ruin – Dutch and Patel

Kiss Your Scars – Renzo and Low

Syren and Renzo (A love story, not a romance)

Run This Town series (M/M)

(Watch Me) Break You – Dima and X

(Watch Me) Body You – Reggie and Israel

(Watch Me) Unmask You – Elias and Lucky

(Watch Me) Save You – Tek and Quinn

RUSH: an X and Dima novella

Full Circle: an Israel and Reggie novella

Freelancers series (M/M)

Temple

Roman

Demming

Paranormal Security Council series

Voltaire’s Abandon (M/F)

Saint’s Surrender (M/M)

Prez’s Mercy (M/M)

Remi’s Betrayal (M/M/F)

The Make Me series

Make Me Blaze (M/M)

Make Me Burn (M/M)

Make Me Sweat (M/F)

Fantasies: Thr33 series

When Morning Comes (M/M/M)

Until the Sunset (M/M/M)

As Night Falls (M/M/F)

Standalone

Want It (M/M) (TABOO)

So Far Gone (M/M)

In Dreams…A Forbidden MM Romance Short (M/M)

Author Website

TABOO BOOKS

As Night Falls (MMF novella)

Dirty Desire: M/M Taboo Romance

Want It: M/M Age Gap, Taboo Romance

So Wrong: M/M Taboo Romance

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A Grenadian transplant, Avril now lives in Tucker, GA, with a madly tolerant husband. Together they raise an eccentric daughter who’s pretty meh about reading and school. Avril’s earliest memories of reading revolve around discussing the plot points of Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with an equally book-minded mother.

Always in love with the written word, Avril finally decided to do the writing in August of ’09 and never looked back. She’s been nominated for numerous awards, including Best Author, Best series (Brooklyn Sinners), and Favorite All-Time Author. In 2013 Avril won Evernight Publishing’s Reader’s Choice Award for the LGBT (Male/Male) category. Recently she took home the Golden Ankh award for best Male/Male romance for her bestselling novel, Sinner’s Fall.

Addicted to cake, the ID Channel, and the UFC, Avril writes Gay and Erotic Romance with happy endings; she remains a believer of love in all its forms.

Visit her website: http://www.avrilashton.com

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