by Raven Dark
“Sorry, can’t.” I typed the last patient’s info into the computer and glanced at my watch. Five o’clock. Four hours before I’d see him again. My body buzzed with anticipation.
“Sure you can. Who is he?” When I looked back at her, she cocked her head and put a hand on her hip, leaning on the counter beside me with the other. Jet black hair pulled into a tight bun should have made her look reserved and orderly, but with those big dark eyes and that dark Latino skin, Franchesca Marks always looked exotic, beautiful. I could imagine my mystery man wanting her. A weird bolt of jealousy hit me, and doubts as to how the hell he could want me seeped in. Old doubts I knew too well.
A smile pulled at my lips at the unlikely idea that, for once, I could leave her wondering about my plans. “None of your business, nosy pants. Don’t you have a broken arm in three to look at?”
“Already done. The doc is with him now. Come on.”
“Nope.” Okay, I was having fun now, but the reality was, I couldn’t risk telling Fran too much. If I did, she would worry. She would insist I know everything about him, be safe. She’d be right. Fran didn’t know anything about my father or my past, she was just very protective of me. I loved it, when it didn’t drive me nuts. Besides, if I started talking about him, I wouldn’t be able to stop her digging into who he was.
Fran drew back a little, smirking. “All right, Chiquita. Fine, keep your secrets, for now. But I’ll get it out of you eventually.”
“I know you will.”
She laughed. Across the hall, the doctor looking at her patient’s broken arm called her over and Fran departed, but not without shaking her head at me. “This conversation isn’t over. I wanna know everything about him later.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I forced a chuckle. When she was gone, I blew out a shaky breath and muttered, “That makes two of us.”
“Do you have any idea what time it is, son?”
My father didn’t wait until I closed the heavy oak doors to his conference room before he spoke. Standing across the large room at the full window that took up the entire back wall, hands clasped behind his back, he looked more like a military sergeant than the CEO of Davros Inc. His pressed gray suit did nothing to take away from that look.
I strode over to the full bar at the side of the room with a glance at the window. The lights from the city twinkled in the early evening darkness. It was nearly six, and I should have been here before noon. I shrugged.
“I suppose you were out chasing pussy again, instead of taking care of Harold Paris like I told you to.”
I snorted and poured a glass of brandy from the selection of my father’s expensive liquors. “Chasing pussy implies a challenge, Dad. Women are not a challenge to me like they are to you.”
The idea of talking about women this way pissed me off, but the mentality that they were chattel, like fruit ripe for the picking, was the only mentality my father understood. Thinking of them any other way than something I had a right to as a man was a sign of weakness to him, and showing weakness in front of my father was dangerous. Never mind that I already knew Anika was more of a challenge than any other women had ever presented. I liked it, to a point.
A second after the words were out of my mouth, my father snatched the glass of brandy out of my hand. When had he even moved across the room? He plunked it down, letting brandy spill like liquid gold over the oak bar. His nostrils flared, and the tension in his shoulders made me instinctively stiffen. My father hadn’t hit me in years, not once I was no longer too small to fight back, but I wouldn’t put it past him if I pushed too far. I often got the feeling he was one step away from clocking me. Bring it on. I’d been wanting a good fight for weeks.
“Gala is in town. You should have made an appearance at her photo shoot. Let her father see you together as much as possible before the wedding.”
I bit my cheek, resisting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself, there wouldn’t be a wedding. To tell him I was tired of putting on a show for that kingpin, and I’d die before I became a fucking Mafia Don. We only had to play the part until he met his end, which, for a man with as many enemies as my father, wouldn’t be long. The wedding was set for six months from now, and as long as we could keep putting it off until he was dealt with, neither Gala or I would have to worry about ending up in a marriage that both of us would rather die than bring about.
At my silence, a muscle in my father’s forehead pulsed. He stepped back and nodded to the chair at the ass end of the table where I’d come in.
“I’ll stand, thanks.” He glared at me, but walked back to the window. Remaining on equal footing with Victor Davros wasn’t an act of defiance. It was simple common sense, if you wanted to maintain control. “So, you wanna tell me why you feel the need to pick on that old man again?”
“Harold Paris is not the innocent you think he is, Kane. He owes me.”
“I’m not your muscle, Dad. If Paris is behind on his loan payments, get Rozini to do it. He has no problem putting the hurt on fragile old farts, remember?”
My father spun from the window. “Watch your attitude, boy. I’m not beyond giving it an adjustment.” But he made no move toward me, instead running a hand through his silver hair. “Men who embezzle from me must be dealt with harshly.”
I widened my eyes. That gnarled old man with his run down restaurant had tried to steal money from my father? From one of the biggest, richest, most well connected families in New York, second only to the Gavinis? I wanted to be angry with Paris, and I was, partly. I didn’t give a shit about my father, but his business would be mine one day, and I’d put as much into it as he had. Stealing from him meant stealing from me. But I also felt a measure of unexpected respect for the old man’s bravery. Especially when I knew why he’d done it. If my father hadn’t been robbing him blind in order to get him to sell off his property to him, Paris wouldn’t have been pushed into stealing from him. I wanted to tell my father this, but instead I sighed.
“All right, I’ll take care of it.”
“See that you do. An act of defiance like that can’t be allowed to slide.”
“I know.” It turned my stomach to think about causing Paris pain. He wasn’t some young, virile fighter in his prime who refused to lose a fight Gavini Senior wanted thrown, or some hardened criminal who was used to taking hits from other men he’d pissed off. He was a sixty-four year old geezer with more skin than bone, desperate to keep his business afloat and forced to watch the Davros empire take it from him piece by piece, because he’d been foolish enough to deal with the devil.
True, I was no saint. But I usually only went after other corporate wolves like me. Like my father. Fuck, I couldn’t wait until he died, so I could take over and finally turn his empire into what it was meant to be. A corporation people could trust and come to for help, rather than a place where businesses went to die, then be reanimated in my father’s sick, twisted image.
“I’ll pay Paris a visit tomorrow.”
“No. Do it tonight. Late. When he isn’t expecting anything to happen.”
I suppressed an irritated growl. The last thing I wanted to do was spend my night putting the fear of God into that poor man. All day, I’d been looking forward to burying myself in Anika’s sweet pussy, in losing myself in her. In her arms, I could believe, for a while, I was a good man, an honest man, a man she deserved, instead of a criminal no better than my father. It was almost nine, though, and arguing with him wasn’t worth missing my chance with her.
“Fine. Tonight. But I do it in my own time.”
He nodded. “Get it done, or that company you took over last week is going to find itself buried in layoffs. You wouldn’t want all those contractors out of work, would you?”
Of course. He’d had that card up his sleeve the whole time. No doubt he would sabotage that entire brand new company and all those jobs with a handshake and a smile, all before somehow making it look like I’d fired them just to be a dick. Bastard.
“I’ll update you
when the job is done.” My nails dug into my palms as I stalked to the door. I left without another word.
I sank into the sofa with a sigh. The babble of hospital work surrounded me, drifting in through the window in the small break room. Nurses moving about the halls and tending to patients or admitting them, phones ringing, someone paging a doctor over the intercom. The sounds normally reassured me, but today they put me oddly on edge, reminding me how close I was to seeing the first and only person I’d let into my life besides Fran. The noises faded and then there was only him. His perfect, gorgeous face filled my mind, and my pulse sped up, skin heating at the memory of his hands on me. I needed the escape only he could offer. And I’d take it.
I loved everything to do with the medical field. I’d wanted to be a nurse since I was little, when a nurse went out of her way to keep me calm and relaxed while the doctor treated me for a broken arm after I fell out of a tree. Medical professionals saved lives, touched people in ways few others could. I loved knowing I made a difference every time I clocked in for work every day. There was so much in this world that sought to destroy others, but I had a chance to heal them, to make things right. Still, with four traumas having come into the ER this week, the last few shifts had been tough and I needed to let it all go. I needed to recharge. My mystery man would give me that.
Someone opened the door to the room and I lifted my head, opening my eyes. My father stuck his head in. “Got a moment? Nurse?” He smiled with pride.
I managed a tired laugh and pushed myself to my feet. Funny how you could get so tired, and yet only realize how much so after you’d relaxed. “You make it sound like such a big deal.”
“It is.” He came in and shut the door behind him. When he looked at me again, the worry in his eyes set off alarm bells in my head.
Years of hiding had taught me to assume the worst. Had they found us? “Dad? What’s wrong?”
A big sigh left him and his broad shoulders slumped. He ran a hand through his short, salt and pepper hair.
“Come sit down. What’s going on?”
For a long moment he said nothing, only lowered himself onto the couch and leaned forward, head down. My heart quickened. I pictured a car sitting outside his house, one of the shiny black ones we’d sometimes seen before each time we were forced to up and run again.
“Dad, you’re scaring me. What happened? Is it Gavini’s men? Did they find us?”
“No.” I barely heard him. When he finally lifted his eyes, the broken look in them nearly shattered my heart. He’d been through too much, tried too hard to keep us alive and afloat. And now, something was pushing us to the bad place again. “We’re going to lose the farm, sweetie.”
The words were like a kick in the gut. Honestly, neither my father nor I liked farming, but it was comfortable for him, and he was good at it. He might have liked it if he hadn’t once been a suit, living the high life as a CEO, but farming was a risky venture that never made anyone rich. It gave a windfall one year, and left you hanging by a thread the next, offering no stability. Still, knowing that the work we’d put into the farm was about to be lost, that once again the lives we’d finally started to build were about to come crumbling down on us again, sent a mixture of helplessness and anger swirling through me.
“Damn it.” Letting out a slow breath, I stood, lowered to my knees in front of him, and took his hands in mine. It startled me to feel them shaking, and when I looked up into his face, I could see the trembling was from rage, not fear. I had a feeling I knew who his anger was meant for, and it wasn’t the people foreclosing on our property.
“We’ll figure it out, okay? Look, there has to be a way. Sell the new tractor. Take the rings grandma gave us before she died. I—”
“We can’t. It won’t be enough, and I need the tractor for this coming season. Daniella—” He winced and lowered his voice when he realized he’d said my name, something he rarely did. No one would hear him in this room, but still, there was no point taking chances. “It just won’t be enough. They want a payment tomorrow. At least two grand.”
“Fuck. It might as well be a million dollars.” Sighing, I pushed to my feet.
My father slammed his fist into the arm rest of the sofa. “I swear, if I ever see Davros again, I’ll kill him.”
“Dad,” I drawled. Then I put back my head and closed my eyes. “Never mind, I get it.”
My father was not a violent man. The threat was idle; he’d rather cut his own heart out than take a life. Even the life of the man who’d once been his friend, until he’d betrayed him. Until he’d taken a bestselling game my father had invented and claimed it as his own, and then blackballed my father out of his company. Victor Davros, the CEO to Davros Inc, one of the largest businesses in the USA, had robbed my father blind before I was even born. He’d screwed him out of his livelihood, just like he had so many others. That my father held more anger toward him than he did the Gavini family said a lot about the depth of his anger toward his one-time friend. Most of the time I felt the same way, even if the Gavinis were the real danger.
“Ok, look.” I sat beside him and settled my hand on his back. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll quit my job here and help out. I’ll—”
“No.” The force of his conviction made me blink. He sat up and grabbed my shoulders. “Don’t you dare. You worked hard to get into nursing. I won’t have you throw it all away. You have a chance of making something of yourself. Don’t give that up. Not for me, not for anyone. I’m the one who made the mistake of being friends with a Davros. I knew what he was, what his whole family is, and I took a chance on him. I will not have you pay for my mistake.”
I opened my mouth to speak twice, only to close it. I hated that he blamed himself for this. That an act of friendship had ruined everything. He’d trusted the wrong person, but this wasn’t his fault. It was Davros’.
A lot of people said the same thing about the Davros family. They built their empire out of greed and corruption. They put up a good front of using their fortune to help others, but inevitably the generosity they offered showed itself to be a trap. Their reputation for trickery and manipulation was so renowned, it was said no one dealt with a Davros and came out unscathed.
Sometimes my dad’s rage toward them worried me. Other times I felt the same poison fill my veins. Especially in times like this, when I thought about that fat cat sitting up in one of his many ivory towers, living high off my father’s invention, while nothing we did seemed to be enough to keep us afloat.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” I dropped my arms. He shook his head, his defeated look twisting my insides. “I could get a loan. Go to the bank tomorrow and talk to someone.”
“No. The last thing we need to do is borrow again. Especially when Gavini owns most of the money in this city. Or Davros. It’s too dangerous.”
“Well—”
The door opened and Fran put her head in. She glanced at my father and concern knitted her brows together. “Sorry...trauma coming into room two. Gunshot wound.”
“Again?” I sighed, but nodded. Down the long hall that led to the main lobby, I could hear ambulance attendants talking and staff moving hurriedly. I looked at my dad, who was already up and headed for the door. “I gotta go.”
“Yep. Come here.” He pulled me into a hug.
“This conversation isn’t done. We’ll figure this out.”
“Yes it is. You’re not getting a loan, and you’re not quitting here.”
“Later.” I kissed his cheek and smiled at his frustrated growl. “I’ll be home this weekend, okay?”
“Good. See you.”
I rushed off with Fran to my patient. Could my life get any worse? Yeah, with Gavini still out there looking for us, I knew it could. Still, this latest setback was like a noose tightening around our necks. Desperate men did bad things, and I didn’t want to think how much harder my dad would need to be pushed before he was so desperate, or so scared, he’d turn to Gavini for help, trying to g
et the money we needed and somehow convince him to let us live in one go.
Hatred for Davros burned in my breast, like a hot poker stabbed through the heart. Desperation clawed at me, sharp and deep. The last thing I should be doing was sneaking off with a stranger in the night, letting myself end up in a man’s arms. Yet every inch of me screamed for the chance to forget, to let go of my worries, for the release I’d only ever had by my own hand.
Fuck, I needed to get laid, stat.
She was late. Sitting in the back seat of my limo on the same street corner where I’d met her earlier that day, the thought that Anika might be deliberately making me wait made my dick hard as a spike. If David hadn’t been standing right outside the door, I’d have pounded myself to release right there, all the while imagining it was her sweet mouth around my shaft. Pushed to her knees and eating my cock in penance for daring to put me off.
David hadn’t been able to find anything on her, even with all his contacts. That kind of secrecy took help, the professional kind. The kind someone only used when running from something big. Knowing this only strengthened my need to discover who she really was and what she was hiding from.
A few minutes passed and still no sign of her. Fuck. No woman ever did this to me more than once.
One of the fortunate side effects of my father’s strict hand was an obsessive need for order and punctuality. It bred me as a man who knew how to take control and keep it, refusing to allow the smallest hint of weakness to show through. It turned me into a ruthless businessman, able and ready to take over an empire meant to be ruled with a fist of iron. The downside of this was that women like Anika, women who believed being with me allowed them the freedom to do what they wished, usually faced consequences they weren’t prepared for.
