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“Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.
I guess I’ve never met a person who could see mine.”
Isla
Octavius
The minute the elevator announces our arrival, the silver doors slide open, and I step outside, strolling toward my office.
My secretary, Todd, jumps up and adjusts his suit while grinning at me, although fear is evident in every breath he takes. “Mr. Reed. Good morning.” He waits a beat and adds, “Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Cancel all my morning meetings,” I order without bothering to greet him. The guy just trembles from my voice alone, so there’s no need to be nice.
The only reason I hired him in the first place was because, compared to women, he didn’t stare at me or glance at the clock every second while staying in my company.
Apparently, women can’t stand me even if they’re paid a six-figure salary.
I enter my spacious office, the sun beaming brightly through the huge window, opening up the view of Chicago’s magnificent beauty during daylight and basking light into the rotten and dark place since it belongs to me.
I think one of my business associates once said that the suffocating energy inside makes it hard to breathe for anyone who dares to come here uninvited, and the black-and-white interior design contrasts with the luxurious paintings hanging on the wall.
I drop my phone on the heavy oak desk filled with two intercoms and a laptop holding all my secrets secured with a password even the best of hackers won’t be able to crack. Various pens and several folders that Todd prepared for me to look through are next to it, and I pick up the red one, flipping it open.
“You need to invest in fucking curtains,” Remi says, flipping a lighter through his fingers and fishing out a cigarette from his back pocket, putting it inside his mouth and lighting it up. “I’m concerned for my eyesight every time I come here.” He slides the ashtray on the desk closer and sits on the chair opposite mine, tapping on the cigarette as the ash falls. “Gives off hospital vibes.” His brow shoots up. “Unless that’s the intention?”
Still keeping my eyes on the folder as I read the gathered information on the latest takeover, I reply, “I have an easy solution for that. Get the fuck out.” He chokes on his smoke, puffs it all around us while his laughter rocks off the walls and Florian’s lips twitch.
“Ah, amigo.” Santiago removes his suit jacket and goes to a wide couch several feet away with a small coffee table in front of it and throws it there before heading to the bar located on the right corner and grabs a glass, pouring tequila into it. “Why are you so rude? I’m disappointed.”
“If you didn’t want me to be rude, you should have warned me about your arrival.” They blink at me as I sweep my gaze over them, and Florian sits on the couch. “Why are you all here?”
By how tension fills the air around us, I know they don’t appreciate my tone, and their eyes flash in warning, reminding me that though they might be in my territory, they are hunters themselves.
We have no leader among us. We aren’t some motorcycle club with presidents and enforcers or any of the bullshit that indicates one among us has more power.
We value freedom above anything else and don’t allow anyone, even each other, to limit it.
We have mutual respect for one another and never follow anyone’s lead, which is just one of many reasons we’ve managed to be part of the Four Dark Horsemen for such a long time with our different temperaments and less-than-stellar behavior toward each other.
That being said, I think most of our acquaintances who engaged in dark cravings as much as we do consider me the leader because I handle all the negotiations. That’s my specialty while patience doesn’t exist in my friends’ vocabulary when they want something.
Santiago takes a large sip from his glass, and finally says, “A little bird whispered in my ear that you have an unresolved issue from the past.” A beat passes. “So I guess it’s us asking you. What’s going on?”
“Yes. If you are planning mayhem that involves us, I’d like to know in advance because I need to finish a certain jewelry collection, and I hate to be interrupted.” Florian pops a nut in his mouth and munches on it. “When I create art, I’m not in the best of moods to charm our enemies or whoever you decide to piss off.”
The most hilarious part about us all? Is that everyone, and by that, I mean mostly Lachlan and his protégés, come to the conclusion that Florian is the easiest to deal with among us. The only one who listens to common sense or sees logic in their actions that might result in us backing off.
If only they knew what he does in his bayous, they’d change their minds because my charming friend, whose smile can make women forget their names, might be the cruelest among us all.
“Thanks, Florian. I appreciate my best friend’s support.” He shoots me a sarcastic wink, although I read him well and know he’d do anything for me. I shift my gaze to Santiago, who raises his brow. “And you can tell your little bird that snitches don’t live long.”
Fucking Callum, I should have known he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. Not that I planned to hide it from them for long. We don’t operate this way.
What might endanger all of us should always be shared between us.
However, I despise anyone dictating to me, and he ultimately did this when he shared the information before I was ready.
“He’s concerned. Or rather…Lachlan is concerned.”
