Deep Down the Rabbit Hole: Kings of the Tower book two

by May Sage

  Mav trailed him with his eyes, and lifted a surprised brow as he saw the man kneel on the floor when he'd reached a short, long-haired brunette wearing a tight corset over her ample breasts, paired with knee-high leather boots and micro-mini shorts. Vivi, a dom, was married to Matthew Harrods. Her husband stood next to her seat. He was a dom, as well - they found their balance by bringing in a third, submissive, bisexual partner to their games.

  Jonas kissed Vivi's booted foot, and then moved to drop his lips on the hand Matthew was extending.

  Mav winced. He'd seen the Harrods in action. There wasn't a toy they didn't know how to use, and pushing their sub's limits was their solace in life. Jonas definitely had guts.

  Sometime over the last five minutes, he’d stopped paying attention to the man. If the numbers pointed his way, he'd watch him closely, but he just didn't seem the type.

  Instead, he yet again turned to Wallace. The salt-and-pepper-haired man, in his late fifties, had worked for the firm before Des had taken over any of the departments. He was one of their father's henchmen. That had made him rich and powerful. Mav had known Wallace for years; the man's own son had often rowed with them, sailed away for a weekend on their dad's boats. The very thought of questioning his loyalty made him sick to his stomach.

  He knew Cal would have immediately cleared him, put him aside and concentrated on the three other people on the list of potential suspects. Des might just have left it entirely to his private investigator, remaining detached from the whole affair until he had no choice but to intervene.

  Mav had already learned a lesson his brother hadn't yet had to face. People betrayed you, given half a chance, and with very little thought of the consequences, if it was of some benefit to them.

  Wallace caught his gaze and smiled, lifting his flute of champagne. He had good cause to smile. There was a pretty young woman of twenty-five or so sucking his cock as he was enjoying the show on the second floor tonight.

  A sub was lying down on a horizontal St. Andrew's cross, and her dom was showing off rope skills; shibari was by no means an extreme aspect of bondage, but it was always fun to watch.

  In truth, Wallace's presence here was the very reason why Mav had no problem suspecting him. Wallace was married, to a woman close to his own age; an elegant lady, known for her skills as a hostess. She believed he was at a business meeting of sorts, right now. His willingness to deceive the person closest to him showed his character.

  Now that he paid attention, Mav did recognize the sub in front of him, actually. She had distinctive features - a pretty face, a little exotic, paired with long, strawberry, curly hair.

  Kathryn Woodrow. She also figured on his list, as Wallace's executive assistant.

  Mav frowned. It certainly wasn't the first time that he heard of a boss fucking the help, but he stored the information somewhere at the back of his mind.

  The other exec hadn't shown - not yet, in any case. Now he'd found out a few things, his eyes drifted to the closest doors, and he took one step in that direction, fully intending to leave. Then he stopped dead.

  A small party of three had entered the room. He knew one of them; Bryant Parker, a business partner he liked more than most. The man was real, always spoke his mind, and never wasted his time, three things he highly valued. Bryant’s right hand was sitting low on the back of a stunning brunette in high heels. His new wife, no doubt. Tori Parker. Desmond had told him a thing or two about her; not much, but, if nothing else, the expression on his brother’s face had made it clear that the lady did belong in the Tower. Seeing her now, Maverick wanted to high five his friend. He’d struck gold with that confident, glorious goddess. The stunner wasn’t the reason why he stopped, though.

  Next to his friend’s wife, just one step behind, a petite woman had entered. She kept her gaze low, her head slightly inclined in a submissive stance, but there was a smirk teasing the corner of her mouth that seemed so naughty it entirely nullified the demure composure.

  The girl had blonde wavy hair with clever highlights. She wore it down, teasing her naked shoulders. Her tube dress with off-shoulder sleeves was simple, and cheap - he could always tell. No matter. She would have shone in a potato bag. She would have shone in anything, and, no doubt, in nothing at all. That was quite simply what beauties like her did, whatever they wore. Still, it upset him somehow. She should be adorned in the finest things. If she had been his, he would have seen to it.

  Tori Parker bent a little to reach the blonde’s ear, and said something that made her look up and glance through the entire room.

  When her eyes met his, she froze, and her pretty mouth, painted black, popped open. Then, despite the poor lighting, he saw her blush at a distance. Her gaze went down again, and she bit her lip.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  He hadn’t expected this. Never again.

  It had been years. Ten years. And even then, the mutual attraction and volatile chemistry hadn’t been quite so potent. But there he was, back where it had all started, and, yet again, taken by a stunning woman at first sight.

  Maverick tightened his fist and hardened his resolve. No. Not again. Never again. He didn’t know the blonde’s name. He didn’t know her connection to the Parkers. All he knew was that he was going to stay the fuck away from her and ignore that attraction. He had to.

  Bryant spotted him and made a bee-line for him. Shit. The two women who were accompanying him followed his lead, of course.

  "Mav. I'm glad to have caught you."

  Maverick plastered his best smile on his features and pretended as well as he could that he welcomed the interruption.

  "Parker. And this, no doubt, is the lovely Tori my brother told much so much about."

  The woman blushed, extending her hand. He took it and kissed the back of her hand gallantly, before nodding in Bryant's direction. "You did well, old friend."

  Then, he couldn't delay it anymore. He had to look at her, directly, right in the eyes. Fuck. The pouty lips. The shy smile, the damn dimples.

  "Charmed," he found himself stating to the fucking adorable blonde, with a slight inclination of his head, before redirecting his attention to Bryant. "You caught me when I was just heading out. I'll see you soon. We have much to discuss."

  Trust

  As Maverick thought he might, he had a hard time convincing his brothers to accept Croft Advertising's bid without even listening to their proposal.

  "They're hungry, talented, and they want the account. More to the point, we know Parker and his wife enough to be open with them."

  Desmond and Callum liked Bryant as much as anyone, but they were still a little reluctant to just hand him and his company a humongous account off the bat.

  “Nevertheless, I see no reason to rush into this without weighing our options first,” Cal retorted.

  "Fine. Make them present to us. Let's waste three months to let them prepare themselves, then maybe we can compare their proposal to a dozen companies and make our decision. And in the meantime, we'll have to file our profits for this quarter. The board will hear of the loss and its source, and we’ll lose their trust, along with a shitload of cash. Or, you could just trust me on this. Let me use CA as a front now."

  Des raised a brow. "You mean to get CA to take care of the palazzo because they'll need to visit Venice. Which would give you an excuse to tag along and directly look into things on the venue." Now he’d gotten the gist of it, his elder brother sighed. "I don't like this. I have a...particular understanding with the Parkers.” There was no point asking what sort of an understanding; a glint in Desmond’s eye made that clear. He was fucking one of the Parkers. Or both. Probably both. “A bad business relationship might mess with that. Let's hope they're up to the task."

  The King of the Kings had given his approval, albeit reluctantly. As they functioned by majority, and two of them had said yes, Cal's opinion was irrelevant, but the man shrugged. "Sure, why the hell not? I like Parker. I liked his brother more, but he’s alright. Let's
see what they're capable of."

  So, a week later, having informed the head of Croft Advertising that they'd decided on working with them out of the blue, Mav was walking with Bryant Parker at lunch time.

  The Brit was sharing his plan for the upcoming trip. Mav was glad that Bryant had fit it in his schedule for the following week. He was planning on coming himself, along with his wife, who would head the project, as the best senior account manager in the firm. Everything sounded great.

  That was, until Bryant said, "And Tori will be taking an assistant with her."

  Mav froze.

  "What assistant?" he asked.

  Bryant smirked as he answered, "Lexi. Obviously. They’re practically joined at the hip."

  He should have kept quiet. Left it alone. But his brain didn't quite compute, not immediately recognizing the fact that his business partner was pulling his leg.

  “No way. You’re not bringing her. Anyone but her.”

  Bryant was smiling like the goddamn betraying dick he was. Then there was no doubt that the man was fucking with him.

  Anyone with eyes would have noticed the way Mav had danced around the appealing petite blonde for a couple of weeks now.

  He and the blonde had only come across each other a handful of times - three times at the Tower, twice at the headquarters of Croft Advertising - but every single time, they were playing a particularly masochistic brand of cat and mouse. No, not cat and mouse. Cat and tiger. They were literally circling each other, and he was doing his best not to pounce, like a tiger not quite willing to hurt the precious little thing, yet wanting to play. God, did he want to play.

  And Bryant knew that.

  “Too late for that. Tori asked her. Lexi’s had an emergency passport done for it and she’s very excited. I don’t think she travels much.”

  Lexi. A name that went with bubble bath, lotion rubbed on silky skin, and pink lace. Sexy, edgy. Needless to say, it was fucking perfect for her.

  He'd looked into her. Of course he had. She had power over him already. Her mere presence commanded his attention. The thought of someone having that sort of hold on him was unsettling, disturbing, and he just needed to take some power back.

  Her full name was Alexia Taunton. She'd excelled at school, right here in the city, but upon returning home to her small southern town, she'd started to work as an assistant, dismissing her business degree. There had been a fiancé, an insignificant lawyer back in New Orleans. Mav didn't like the thought that she'd belong so completely to someone, intending to spend her entire life with him. It made him frown. Stupid. Extremely stupid, in fact. He didn't even know the woman, dammit.

  Back in the city, she'd moved in with some old school friends, and taken a job bussing tables in the bar where she'd worked back in her college years. A few weeks later, she'd been employed by Croft Advertising.

  The girl was freaking spotless. Not one bit of dirt jumped off the page. Mav itched to get Knightly involved, get an in-depth report drafted; he knew no one was actually that squeaky clean.

  But that would have been a little too close to stalking, and with zero rational reason, so he left well enough alone.

  Mav had learned enough about her to realize that Bryant was saying the truth. She'd never travelled outside of the country at all - she didn't have the spare cash necessary to do that sort of thing. Outside of work opportunities, she might never get to see Europe.

  In other words, if he insisted, stood his ground, and asked that she was booted from the trip because of his lust, he’d be the worst kind of asshole.

  “Fine. Only, trust that I know you're fucking with me and I will return the favor someday. Sevenfold.”

  Bryant just laughed. “I don’t get it. What's stopping you, mate? She's single."

  Yeah, what's stopping you? an increasingly strong voice at the back of his mind roared, echoing the Brit's opinion.

  "The way you look at her...and I’ve never seen you so much as speak to her.”

  “That would be because I haven’t,” Maverick replied, just as the kiosk guy handed him his fresh one-dollar slice.

  He moaned as he bit into the cheesy goodness. Even Italian pizza wasn’t as satisfying as these cheese slices. Damn, nowhere else in the entire world could he get anything close to that. New Yorkers were dicks for taking it for granted. He’d missed pizza. And hot dogs. And the always-in-a-hurry, borderline, sometimes downright rude, New Yorkers. This was a strange city, but it was in his blood. His home.

  He hadn’t expected to feel that way. The last few times he’d been here, he’d seen Sarah at every corner. Her presence, or rather, her absence, was in everything he saw, everything he did. Now she wasn’t at the forefront of his mind anymore. She’d turned into a ghost that only reared its head occasionally.

  He still saw her, of course. Mainly in a certain little blonde who wouldn’t meet his eyes when he looked at her, but who still stole a glance when she believed he wasn’t looking. Stupid, really. He always looked at Lexi. Sometimes directly, sometimes just from the corner of his eyes.

  And then, just when he was about to cave, give up, give in, he’d see her. Sarah. And he’d remember why he couldn’t do this.

  “Sure you don’t want one?” he offered to Bryant, all the while considering ordering himself another slice.

  “I’ve been in the city for over a year now. Trust me, I’ve had plenty of pizza. They aren’t worth the extra workout after a while.”

  Mav shook his head in disbelief. “Suit yourself.”

  “Now, you said you wanted to speak out of the office?”

  Maverick polished off the slice in another bite, chewed it, and then explained. “Yeah, I figured you could relay the message to your wife, and Alexia, too, if necessary.”

  “Everyone calls her Lexi, you know.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know her. So, Alexia it is. We picked you guys because we have every confidence in the fact that you’ll give your everything in this campaign. You won’t want to mess up a deal with us,” he stated, matter-of-fact. No one, established or not, could risk messing with the Kings. They both knew that. If they had to fire their asses and go elsewhere, CA’s reputation would be shot dead, murdered in one devastating blow. “Given that fact, I’m certain you’re wondering why I’m tagging along.”

  Bryant nodded in response. “A coordinator would have made sense. One of the highest-ranking officials in your corporation - yeah, I wondered. Tori thinks you’re going to try to micromanage her.”

  Maverick snorted. "Get involved in marketing?” Who did she think he was, Callum? “I don't think so. Expect me to have a lot to say once the project is actually on my desk, but she can do whatever the fuck she wants in the meantime, as long as she stays within the budget."

  His father had long ago stressed the importance of being able to delegate; considering everything on his plate, there weren't enough hours in the day to oversee every single thing he was supposed to be in charge of. Mav didn't often shove his nose in until projects were completed.

  "And yet, you're coming."

  "Indeed. During our trip, I'll be quite busy myself, working on something that must remain entirely confidential, particularly to the staff of the palazzo. To that goal, I will stay in the same office as you and pretend to work with you. The only four people aware of this right now are you and I, and my two brothers. I understand you'll need to inform your wife and her...assistant. But no one else must know."

  Slowly, Bryant dipped his head.

  "Looking into the financial trails of the palazzo," he immediately guessed, making Mav groan.

  "Yes. And given how quickly you've come to that conclusion, you understand how important it is that everyone believes I'm fully, wholeheartedly involved in your marketing campaign. Understood?"

  He offered his hand and cocked a brow. Bryant shook it. "Understood. And you may count on both Tori’s and Lexi's discretion. I trust them both, implicitly."

  Maverick took that information with a certain amo
unt of surprise. From what he knew of Bryant Parker, his trust wasn't something he gave easily. He'd been seriously screwed by a business partner, in all senses of the term. Yet he seemed completely sincere in extending his trust not only to his wife, but also to Alexia Taunton.

  Mav wasn't sure what to make of that. It had been a long time since he'd trusted any female. With good reason.

  Four years ago.

  * * *

  Sarah smiled so sweetly, one would believe she was the happiest woman in the world. And why not? She had every reason to be. A job she loved. She'd moved to a Fifth Avenue penthouse with a man she loved. Anyway, hopefully she loved him. If she didn't, Maverick wasn't sure what he'd do with the twelve-carat diamond ring in the inner pocket of his jacket.

  It had stayed there for a month now. He'd pop the question soon. It was just a matter of finding the right time. Maybe on their thirtieth birthday, in a few weeks. They were born the same day - a coincidence he liked to think akin to fate.

  "Hey, sweetheart," he said, kissing the side of her face.

  She beamed at him and asked, "Have you thought about what I asked for, for my birthday?"

  Now he groaned. Of course he'd thought about it. "Do we have to discuss this now?"

  She nodded. "Yes. I need to be prepared."

  In the next four years, he would ruminate on those words, again and again. At the time, they had seemed innocent enough, however.

  She pouted and sent him that look. The one that would have put any puppy to shame.

  "Fine. Yes. Of course, yes. Whatever you want."

  Right then, he decided he would propose the morning after their birthday.

  He might have. He'd never know. The morning after their birthday, she was dead.

  Unmasked

  Being on a trip to Venice, of all places, with Lexi Taunton, was a downright laughable notion.