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Prologue
Every year, in an undisclosed location, there is a gathering of British billionaires. The secret conference, it is rumored, is a concentration of wealth where the most powerful business moguls in the United Kingdom gather to participate in nefarious parties, plot global domination, and further social connections, all while striking multi-billion-dollar merger deals. It is whispered they are ruthless and evil. Monsters in the form of humans. They’ve been called the shadow world government. The lords of luxury. The billionaire kings. What is known is they consider themselves to be omnipotent and untouchable to any force.
ChapterOne
EVIE
“Where the hell is she?” a deep voice traveled up the boarding stairs of the Airbus Corporate Jet.
I ran my hand along the soft leather seat and frowned, turned off by the excess and extravagance of the private plane. Not just any corporate jet, it was the 319NEO equipped with a lounge, conference room, and private bedroom. It was, in essence, the cream of the crop of luxury travel. The whole thing reeked of privilege. And from the worked-up tone of the voice coming from outside, we were in for a hell of a time.
I was only working the flight attendant job as a favor for my best friend, Claire, who came down with the flu and needed a last-minute replacement. Personally, dealing with private aviation and the stuck-up snobs who considered themselves better than everyone else was my version of a nightmare. I preferred my passengers on commercial airlines. However, Claire said it was only a short flight to Cabo San Lucas from Los Angeles, and the owner would put me up in a five-star resort until the return flight home in three days. Vacations were hard to come by with my busy schedule, and the thought of laying on the beach with my feet in the sand and a good book was irresistible.
The man entered the plane, continuing his tirade. His British accent was thick with anger. “She’s not answering her fucking mobile.”
I busied myself in the small kitchenette, hoping to stay out of his way. It had to be the owner Keir Wilson.
“I don’t know, sir. I can’t get a hold of her either,” another man answered.
He was traveling with his fiancée Margot for the weekend along with his personal assistant. The text Claire sent me regarding the client’s preferences foreshadowed the man’s arrogance in an ominous warning which she left in all capital letters.DON’T MAKE HIM MAD.
How did she know this, I wondered briefly? Had she made him angry? And if so, what did he do?
She assured me it would be an easy gig if I followed the rules. The arguing coming from the cabin area suggested otherwise.
“What a fucking diva,” Simon whispered under his breath as he set a silver tray holding warm washcloths down on the counter.
I gave him a smile. It was my first time working with him, but Claire said he was a good guy.
The Brit’s rant got louder and closer. “Of all the bloody weekends. She decides to ditch me before the most important opportunity of my life. This could ruin my chance.”
“Oxford, perhaps?” I said to Simon, trying to place his accent. “But there’s a slight lilt, so maybe not.”
“It soundsentitledto me,” Simon answered, dramatically rolling his eyes. He stepped aside quickly and bumped into me just as a dark-haired man passed. The man headed toward the cockpit, slamming open the door. Neither Simon nor I were about to stop him. It was obviously Mr. Wilson. Billionaire and finance extraordinaire, he was listed as one of the world’s wealthiest men and the UK’s hottest bachelor. That was until his engagement last month. I looked him up when Claire gave me the details of the trip. He was even more handsome in person. Tall and well-built with black hair, a strong jaw, and just enough of a shadow of a beard to make him appear a bit menacing. He was the Prince of Darkness in the flesh. “Did you get the new coordinates?” he asked the captain.
“Yes, sir. We’re all clear for take-off. We should be there in about eleven hours.”
Eleven hours?
That couldn’t be correct. It was a three-hour flight to Cabo.
“Let’s go then,” Keir barked, storming back to the VIP lounge.
The pilot looked back at me along with his baby-faced co-pilot. “You can close the main door. We’re ready to depart.” Confused by the news, I turned to Simon to see if he knew about the change, but he was following Keir.
“Are you his regular pilot?” I asked, a bit bewildered.
“Yes. I’ve worked for Mr. Wilson for the past five years.”
“Where are we going? I thought it was Mexico.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice,” he said. “On private flights with this caliber of client, you don’t ask questions. This is his plane. We go where he wants to go. Now get the door.”
“I just want to know where, so I can tell my family.”
“Just do your job and stop asking questions.”
The hair on my arms rose as my gut did a somersault. Something wasn’t right. I had every right to know where we were going? Damn Claire for getting me involved. She knew how protective my brothers were. I grabbed my purse from a cupboard and headed to the door. No one said I had to stay. The only locations eleven hours away were all on different continents, and not to mention Keir Wilson was an asshole. I froze when I got to the exit, staring down at the tarmac. The airstairs had already been retracted.
