Chapter 22

Styx

Kill him.

My angel's words shouldn't bother me in the least. After all, in a crazy way, I think I'd wanted her to be just like me. Now I knew I didn't.

I wanted the light back in my life.

With her.

However, I still had my own acts of revenge to accomplish first. Maybe I'd fall into silent partner mode with my brothers after the dirty deeds were done, living in the lap of luxury with the only woman I could fall in love with.

Her words had been profound, affecting me more than I thought possible. That had allowed me to formulate a plan after she'd left, heading to the bedroom. I'd walked the estate for two hours, drinking cognac and smoking another cigar while I'd contemplated what could be done without the use of violence.

Then it had come to me like another beacon of light, a nod from the heavens. Yeah, right. However, if the plan I intended on putting into play worked, I could stay back and watch joyfully as it unfolded, the world crumbling around a significant percentage of Boston's most powerful men. I was shocked that I liked the idea as much as I did.

Who said chivalry was dead?

I took a deep breath, longing for another taste of her. My sweet salvation. Maybe the whole reason for the change in my thinking was that I wanted a normal life back. Whatever the hell that meant. What I did know was it involved the lovely Emily, the only woman who'd managed to dig me out of the darkness, clawing her way straight into my heart.

"You okay back there, boss?" Axe asked as he glanced into the rearview mirror.

"Doing just fine. Eager to get the evening going."

And I was. I glanced out at the bright lights of Boston's downtown, enjoying the peace before the storm.

As Axe pulled toward the valet on the curb, I glanced out the window at the glistening windows and twinkling white lights adorning the entire entrance. I wasn't yet out of the car and I could easily sense a festive atmosphere.

The seeds were planted, my act of revenge taking on an entirely new level. While there were a few outstanding pieces and I couldn't rule out my need to feed the demon inside of me, the only way to ensure a life spent with Emily was to turn over a new leaf.

Oh, wouldn't my mother be proud, my father spinning in his watery grave?

I did want to learn who'd dared attack my compound, but even if I secured that information, what point would it serve? The best way to take out all my enemies was with one swift stroke of a pen. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"This should be interesting, Axe," I said more lightly than I thought possible.

"If you say so, boss."

"Stop worrying, my man. We're going to have some fun tonight."

"How so?" he asked.

"We're going to stop corruption from making its way to the top of the leader board."

I sensed he was perplexed, turning his head slightly. "What should I expect, serious gunfire?"

"Not necessarily. Something my father was never good at was learning the art of utilizing the blackmail information he'd gathered. I, on the other hand, am very good at doing so. Any news on the planes?"

"Not yet but expecting it any time now."

"Good. The dangerous situation will be concluded on this trip." I'd brought my laptop with me as well, using the various information I'd gathered, sorting it entirely differently than any of my men had the skills to do. There were too many players, including my brothers. We were all swimming around each other likes sharks who'd smelled blood in the water. One act of revenge years before had started an avalanche. It was time to put a stop to the madness. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to be easy.

However, in my days of enjoying acts of violence, I'd also learned one of the most important methods to use when eliminating an enemy was to allow them to implode by providing the means necessary. As much as I wanted to fulfill my angel's request, I knew she'd never forgive herself. She wasn't a killer. She was a perfect little bird who deserved to fly.

Maybe I was turning over a new leaf after all.

A grin crossing my face, I was eager to start bringing a conclusion to this madness.

Black tie.

There was a time I'd worn scrubs and jeans, nothing else. There'd been no need while working long hours at the hospital. With fourteen- to sixteen-hour days, often maybe one day off in nine or ten, I was lucky that I showered on a regular basis.

Now I owned four tuxedos, all from different designers, all impeccably designed for me alone. I'd been to more lavish parties in the last few years than I cared to mention or could remember for that matter.

Not because I'd gotten intoxicated, because I never allowed myself to lose control, becoming uninhibited at parties or business events. Those who did were easy to blackmail with their less than stellar behavior.

I climbed out the back of the SUV, immediately buttoning my tux jacket as I peered up at the posh hotel, the finest the city had to offer and flanking Boston Harbor. Only a few seconds later, Axe flanked my side, my companion for the evening, although his presence would be noticed by no one. He'd learned a long time before to be an excellent driver and shadow. He was also extremely observant.

As he handed off the keys to the valet on duty, I gave him a quick once-over. Who would have thought he could look better in a tuxedo than I did?

Three of my other men were keeping watch on the area, mindful of what I was attempting to do. They were also to be on the lookout should Gideon attempt to bolt if and when he noticed my appearance.

I was known as a celebrity in town, even more so than the man himself. I'd already noticed three different television stations' news trucks, all carrying the fabulous charity event in vivid color.

Gideon was a smart man, enjoying the glow and show that money and influence had to offer. I ventured a guess tonight he was indeed announcing his run for public office, the crowd of supporters mostly his friends and favorable colleagues.

That much I'd already determined. The fact the entire event was being televised could be used to my benefit.

"Do you need anything else from me, boss?" Axe said as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Just keep an eye out for unusual guests or any trouble that might be on the radar."

"You got it." I headed toward the main doors of the hotel and Axe hung back, waiting until I was at the elevator before walking into the building. None of my men were easily recognizable, although in these types of circumstances, I never went alone.

I'd found out after being shot at more times than I could count over the years that you couldn't underestimate your enemy for one second. If you did, you were dead.

Holidays didn't matter.

Birthday celebrations.

Nothing.

It was business as usual in the world of crime syndicates, twenty-four/seven, fifty-two weeks a year. That suited me just fine because it made my usual marks easier to locate. Besides, men holding powerful positions enjoyed pontificating more than the normal man.

Whatever that was.

However, Axe would be my shadow if needed, providing backup for the men Gideon had brought with him. I was still surprised there'd been no police investigation regarding the murder of his two men, which meant he was attempting to hide certain aspects of his life. It certainly was something I would do, but it was interesting timing. My guess was it all had to do with whatever deal was put into place with the prince. There was too much at stake.

I grinned as the elevator doors closed, my thoughts drifting to my lovely Emily. I'd debated bringing her with me. There was nothing I wanted to do more than to parade her in front of her father, but even as reprehensible as I was, I had no intentions of using her in that manner. She was all mine, not some fodder and eye candy for another man.

And her damn fucking asshole of a father would never be allowed to get his hands on her again.

I leaned against the elevator wall, thinking about her request. She was almost ready to learn the truth about her father's intentions, although I wanted to be there with her when she did. She deserved all the honesty I could provide and nothing less. Her admittance that she'd suspected her father had been involved with her mother's murder hadn't been surprising. She was a highly intelligent girl. She'd managed to bide her time, honing her craft so she could get out from under the man's thumb.

That was courage. Maybe I could learn something from her.

What she didn't know was that I was planning on using the additional documentation I'd discovered against the man, which would provide the needed encouragement to end his political career before it began. After that? I'd see how he acted. But I had my attorney standing by with various sets of documentation.

As I strolled through the lobby, I was almost at peace from thinking about sweet Emily. She was simply a magnificent woman, capable of soothing any beast in the wild. But again, she was all mine.

I'd stood inside her bedroom, watching her sleep as I'd done before. Then I'd curled up beside her, surprised she'd wanted me to hold her tightly against me. Even more shocking? I'd fallen into a restful sleep. The quiet time we'd shared in morning doing nothing more than watching the sun rise while having coffee was more powerful than making love to her. She'd seemed to relish our togetherness.

Or maybe she'd finally become resigned. I wasn't entirely certain which.

However, there'd been no tears.

I closed my eyes as the elevator shot up to the top floor, the expansive conference rooms adorned with expensive crystal chandeliers and plush carpets. There was obviously no expense too significant for a man like Gideon Martin.

While this was nothing more than a fact-finding mission and laying out the score, providing Gideon with an opportunity to come face to face with his enemy, I was hoping to glean all the information I could for regarding the meeting with the prince.

Even thought I'd yet to determine what I would do with it once in my hands.

As the elevator pinged, I took a deep breath, running both hands through my hair just as the doors opened. I knew my way around any fundraiser, including for this particular charity. I found it interesting that Gideon was now touting it as his fundraising effort of choice only a couple of years after I'd been given an award for my humanitarian help.

I still cared about the medical profession, perhaps even having more respect than I had when I was a surgeon. As soon as I entered the main ballroom, I headed for the bar. I was recognized almost immediately, including by several members of the press. I had no issue giving a statement, actively supporting such a wonderful cause for the children's hospital. A wing had even been named after me, which made me a celebrity in the hallowed walls.

The tragedy my little family had endured had been in the news, the gossip ensuing after I'd up and quit my profession, rumors flying from I'd lost my mind to I'd gone underground to try to learn who'd set the fires.

What had been kept from the press was the weapons had been used before the fire had been set. They'd suffered before dying.

Even now, as one of the few reporters I respected swaggered closer, I bristled inside, still keeping a smile on my face. I hadn't been a recluse, but this was the first time I'd made an appearance with the foundation since losing my family.

I ordered a scotch as Mickey approached, the once eligible bachelor leaning against the bar.

"I'm surprised to see you," he said.

"Why is that?"

"Because of the past."

I chuckled, handing the bartender two twenties. "This is my old stomping ground, Mickey. I still find time to provide whatever assistance I can when I'm available as well as continue to be a true humanitarian."

He choked on the drink he'd already half consumed. "You forget who you're talking to, Styx. I'm one of the few people who have it under good authority you're a man who now goes by the name of Talon. It sounds like a fucking sparrow if you ask me."

As he tipped his head, searching my eyes, all I could do was laugh. "Do I look like a fucking sparrow to you, Mickey?"

Swirling the ice cubes in the glass, I could tell he was debating what to say to me. My entire family had a dark reputation in town and had for two generations, my foray into the medical field not removing the taint on our name.

Or the reverence.

My father had owned half the town when he was still alive. Now my brothers and I did, even though Gideon was attempting to grab what he could of our power and our influence. "No, you look like an assassin."

The fact a reporter had learned my secret could mean someone had tipped him off. That didn't bode well with me at all. I took a sip of my drink, scanning the festively decorated room, not appearing to have a care in the world. "I am curious what an assassin looks like, James Bond?"

He laughed, snorting after doing so. "Kinda. Sophisticated and icy cool, as if nothing would ruffle your feathers. I must say, if what they said about your wife's death was the truth, I couldn't blame you for turning into a cold-blooded killer."

The man seemed to be a package of information today. Much like those I'd prepared in advance calling in favors and utilizing the various powerful connections I had. Sadly, I sensed Mickey had been told to try to ruffle my feathers. If I had additional time tonight, I'd break his legs in response, but I was here for an entirely different reason and refused to be sidetracked. So I quickly developed other plans. Why not use him? "Be careful, my friend, of ancient and false information. That will only prove to be detrimental to circumstances of your life. But the truth can set you free."

I was no fool. He could certainly be wired, using whatever I had to say against me, but if I had to guess, I'd also think he had an envelope of cash stuffed inside his ill-fitting tuxedo jacket, promised a juicy story for his time and the level of danger.

"Do you have the truth?"

"Always, but only for those most deserving. After all, I am the controller of several destinies." Allow him to chew on that for a little while.

"Oh, a warning from the great Styx Saint. I must admit I like this side of you better than your humanitarian one."

I noticed Gideon across the room holding court. While tonight was more about the funding raised, the new addition to the children's hospital, that didn't mean he wasn't the star of the show. He seemed to be in his element, mingling through the crowd, some of the most beautiful and wealthiest women in the city hanging onto his arm in hopes of being chosen for his bed.

It appeared as if he didn't have a care in the world. That was truly disgusting.

Mickey followed my line of sight, half laughing. "Your families always did spar with each other."

"Not by choice. Competing with the Martins was my father's business, not mine."

"Well, you are riding in your father's footsteps from what I understand."

I would rarely get angry when anyone brought up my talents or penchant for violence, but mentioning my father in the context he just had left more than a bad taste in my mouth. I shifted in front of him, doing what I could to keep my cool. "Be careful, Mickey. You and I have been friendly over the years, your reporting decent in a town full of hacks, but I don't want any mention of my father. He is dead, long buried. There is no story there. I hope you understand that. I suggest you leave it that way and concentrate on a juicier story, such as finding out why the illustrious foundation leader has yet to be indicted on the murder of his wife."

Mickey's eyes opened wide, his mouth going slack. It had never been mentioned, the entire situation swept under the rug all those years ago. At that point, Mickey had just arrived in town from what I could remember, and had certainly not been given an opportunity to handle reporting the news on the horrific event. The reporter had tried to make sense of my father's sudden disappearance when he'd still been rather wet behind the years. He'd simply wanted his fifteen minutes of fame. Without a body, he hadn't been successful.

A cat seemed to have snagged his tongue. I guess that was better than me ripping it out of his head for his insinuations. I did wonder who had tipped him off about the moniker coined almost two years before. I noticed the prince had arrived, immediately heading toward Gideon with his entourage.

"You're shittin' me," Mickey said under his breath.

"Do I look like a man who doesn't provide the truth?" I adjusted the lapel of his jacket, picking off nonexistent fuzz.

I could smell his fear, but even more, his eagerness to be granted an exclusive. "No, sir. You look like an upstanding man who has the ability to control the world."

"Then perhaps you'll look into the case and why the current chief of police is keeping it under wraps. Or why Gideon is in the process of selling his daughter to an Arab prince. Now, if you're a very good little boy, you might have a treat in your inbox in the morning."

No, I wasn't the kind of man to be fucked with, but it would seem I was viewed as a pawn to be shuffled around by at least two parties. That would end on this trip, of course. One way or the other.

Mickey seemed to take the advice with a grain of salt. "Holy shit. I will look for it." Once again, he shifted his gaze around my muscular arm, eyeing the ongoing conversation Gideon was having with Prince Aziz. "What a fucking lunatic."

"You have no idea what the man is capable of. However, you should do your job. I think you'll find it very beneficial to your health." I backed away, offering him a smirk.

He was scared of the entire situation he'd gotten himself in the middle of.

But he was petrified of what I was capable of.

"I'll do that. I appreciate the tip. Don't forget your promise. I'll take care of the rest."

"Now, let me give you a piece of advice. If what I understand is in the works happens tonight, namely the good Gideon Martin announcing his run for president of these illustrious United States, I'd have a story carefully crafted about his bony, broken skeletons. You'll have the proof you need when the district attorney grills you, which I'm certain he will after your series of reports settles. If you get my drift."

"Yes, sir, I do. I assume I can't quote you." His grin had returned, as if he had the upper hand.

I did nothing more than lift my gaze and he paled. "There will be no need. I think it's time Mr. Martin learns the American public prefers a more reputable man to land in the White House. And I think you're the perfect man to handle that objective. Call it a mission from God. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have business to attend to. I hope I can count on you, Mickey. I have a long memory." The truth was I found it fascinating that my attendance had been disclosed prior to my arrival.

I'd secured an invitation from one of my old buddies, a man who'd been on the hospital's board of directors for years, but that had only been a few hours before. He was usually discreet, although given my former status as a money maker for the foundation, he might have mentioned it in passing to a couple of people, who in turn had told those involved with the festivities I was making an appearance. Gossip traveled fast.

Why did I think otherwise?

I held my anger and that thought, moving toward my prey. It was time to find out what Gideon had in mind for his daughter and why he was continuing the charade.

After that, I'd make it very clear to him that Emily was mine and mine alone.

And I'd hope he'd make an attempt on my life, providing a nice excuse to bring back a little gift for my prized sparrow.

A very special souvenir.

Chuckling, I tossed back the rest of my drink, slamming the empty crystal tumbler on the tray of a passing waiter.

If only I could take Gideon to visit my father's former hunting grounds.

Maybe I really was like my father after all.