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While Mickie was soft and nurturing, an artist by trade, Walt had taught them all about the cutthroat business world. It hadn’t taken them long to go from college to billionaires, all because Walt had taught them how to channel their aggression, how to utilize the things they were taught were wrong with them, their cunningness, and their very controlled sense of violence, and now they were amongst the richest men in the world.
They understood everything they felt. No emotion passed through them without three things being done about it. Either they accepted it, they fixed it, or they made it disappear. Holly Weaver, their stepsister, had ripped through their very structured thinking levels, and now she remained in limbo in their minds because she was their sister, step or not.
They had also never seen Mickie more in love with a woman than he was with Brenda. When he had adopted them, he had been married to someone they could barely remember since she divorced him soon afterward. He’d seen other women over the years, but Brenda had made him want to get married again at his age. He had made them promise they would always look out for their new stepsister because this was their family now.
They had spent the rest of the day after the first time ‘meeting’ her, wondering if it was the fact that she had tripped over nothing and fallen into the pool or if it was the shape of her body, outlined by her wet clothes, that intrigued them about her. That’s why she lived in their heads, causing a fucking huge imbalance.
And then they couldn’t believe what their Uncle Walt had done. The man had set them up in the worst fucking way possible. He couldn’t be smugger about the situation if he tried. He wanted to put them to the test, and of all the people it could have involved, it had to be their fucking goddamn stepsister.
That also explained why they were at a wedding in the Bahamas. Sure, Robbie was their friend from school, but that was it; they didn’t do stuff like this. They would have had their office pay for the venue and their honeymoon as a wedding present, and they would have had a drink with him a couple of days before.
Except this was where Walt had sent them.
Kingston glanced at the two men sitting around the table with him, nursing the hotel’s best whiskey. Where they really wanted their own bottles and maybe each have two more so they could pass out and wake up when the weekend was over.
He knew these men as if they were his blood brothers. They had always been in sync, from the day Mickie brought them to his home. They’d been ready to defend themselves with their fists or whatever weapons they could get their hands on. They slept very lightly in case they were jumped in their sleep, but soon, with Mickie’s help, they learned to trust each other, and now that bond was unbreakable.
Whatever Kingston was feeling, he knew it would be mirrored in Nolan and Fletcher. So that when he shifted his attention back to Holly and saw her talking very animatedly to another man, the strange feeling in his gut was felt by Nolan and Fletcher as well.
Greg Rice.
His mother was Mickie’s sister, but that didn’t stop him from being a greedy fucking douchebag, and he was going to do whatever it took to get Holly back after they had dated in high school.
But that was the mission Walt had set them out to complete.
Make sure she didn’t say yes to marrying Greg Rice, their fuckingcousinbefore the weekend was over. The man had bought a fucking wedding ring already, he was so sure she was going to say yes to him.
And what the fuck was she doing smiling up at him like that? Kingston ground his teeth together when Rice’s gaze drifted down her body. He could see Nolan clench his fist when Rice put his hand on her lower back to guide her away from the reception desk. And Fletcher downed his drink when Rice moved in a little too close to her as they walked away.
They had better move on before she fell for his feeble charm and married the asshole.
Fletcher made a quick call, and five minutes later, when he received a text to say it was done, they took the next elevator up and then entered her room with their own card.
They’d shocked the crap out of good ol’ Greg.
“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” he asked, coming toward them and shaking their hands, all smiles. They really hated the guy. “Ah, you’re here to see Holly. I forget she's your stepsister. She’s just taking a shower. I’m escorting her to the masquerade ball. I don’t think she’s going to be much longer. This is some suite Caroline put her up in. Can I get you something to drink while you wait? Oh, don’t worry, Holly invited me to stay with her for the weekend, so it’s also my suite. Big enough for both of us.” He laughed.
The fuck she did.
They couldn’t believe she had invited Rice to stay with her in her suite within fucking two minutes of seeing him.
They had to physically stop themselves from reverting to their baseline responses and whip his head off his shoulders.
“Actually, Rice, reception was looking for you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Something about your house?” At that precise moment, his phone rang.
“You should get that.”
His eyes widened as he dug out his cell phone from his pants and brought it to his ear.
“This is Greg Rice.”
After a few moments of silence, his shriek echoed around them. “My house is flooded,” he said, clearly in shock.
“I think you should go down to reception. Patricia said they would try to help you sort it out.”
