Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

B eckham

Even after the shit I'd heard, I kept a smile on my face. Tonight was all about pleasure. Tomorrow was a different day entirely. I'd need to decide what to do with Kenya during what I was starting to think about as a crisis. I didn't like the odds of keeping her with me, but I'd allow myself to think about that later.

Plus, the God's honest truth was that I couldn't see myself spending time without her. Shit. I had it bad for the girl. Shitty timing given what we were up against. My mother had always told me there was never the perfect time to find a relationship since it found you. When you knew, you knew. That's what made it perfect. For all the years I'd harrumphed at her wisdom, now I find out the woman was truly fucking brilliant.

Still, who the hell broke into someone's place of business only to find their soulmate? Well, I guess it would be one of those stories to tell our grandkids. Yeah, right.

There were a half dozen options that could work, but it was obvious the assassins had kept close watch on my daily activities, which meant they could get to her at any time.

I'd quickly changed, still enjoying the fact every touch of her skin, every kiss had led to my body being covered by her intense scent. Kenya was so… I laughed as I headed down the stairs, unused to wearing jeans and a polo shirt, although I owned one in every color of the freaking rainbow.

Some might call me a clothes whore, but it was all about ensuring I had the proper attire for any situation. I was even wearing dock shoes, which was definitely not like me. The smile remained until I walked into my office. Seeing my father with his pensive face and furrowed brow irritated the fuck out of me.

"Don't you ever announce your arrival or at least fucking knock?"

"Your men let me in. I am your father. I have a right to see my own son."

And that meant what? Privacy was becoming an issue in a town we owned a solid twenty-five percent of. "You allowed members of the Brotherhood to enter my house without my permission. Have you come to say you're sorry for being a dickhead?"

He pointed his finger at me, his entire arm shaking from anger or perhaps from the beginning of Parkinson's disease. My mother had confided in me he'd had tremors for years, only recently getting them diagnosed. I hated it for the man, who'd once carried himself like a god. He'd never take the diagnosis easily or do anything to allow his own children to know.

"I am your fucking father. I will do what is best for my children."

There was something entirely different about his voice, as if he was terrified of what was happening. From what I'd learned, maybe he had every right to be. If the infamous Death Squad had their way, all the crime syndicate regimes in the world would be compromised.

"Yep, you are, Pops. But that doesn't give you the right to assume you know what's best for me."

"Did you talk to the alliance?" He had a drink in his other hand, a bead of sweat trickling down one side of his face. I'd never seen him this nervous in all my years.

I remained a few feet away, shaking my head and staring out the window at the pool I adored. How long had it been since I'd swum a lap? Too long. Swimming had been my form of release, a half hour when I could forget all about who and what I was. I'd spent significant money having it enclosed for the winter, yet I rarely used it then. Maybe I was a beach boy, something my mother had told me as a kid.

It was strange to be reminiscing about my childhood right now, but I felt a life-changing situation coming on. "Don't worry, Pops. You wanted me to become a member of the Brotherhood and I did. I can't help but feel you had an ulterior motive." When he said nothing at first, I slowly turned my head toward him. He seemed shocked I'd accepted the position. "Oh, come on. Don't look so surprised or offended. You've orchestrated almost everything about my life over the years. Why not this? However," I said as I moved closer, "I need to know what you've learned about the Death Squad and don't you dare fuck with me on this. You know more than you were willing to tell me. I need to know why."

Now, not just his arm was shaking but his entire body as well. He turned abruptly, heading back to the bar. It seemed my refreshment counter was the center of everyone's attention. I studied him as he struggled with either his emotions or what he would feel comfortable telling me. I decided to give the man a break.

"I know good ole Uncle Mitchell is a part of it. I also discovered that it would appear Cousin David is being groomed to become the next president of the United States, only his term will be until what, his death?"

I don't think I could remember a time when I managed to jar my father. But as he tipped his head toward me, there was an emotion in his eyes that was incomprehensible. "It was supposed to be you."

"Me? What are you talking about?"

He was shaking so badly as he poured more of his scotch that a large portion slipped past the rim. "It's complicated."

"I don't give a shit what it is. We're not playing games any longer. Talk to me. We have a serious situation occurring, one that even the members of the Brotherhood are uncertain how to handle. I need answers. I need the truth. You owe me that."

My father downed a solid fifty percent of his drink before it seemed he found the nerve to face me. "When you and David were born only a few months apart, your uncle and I were still close. We dreamt of a better life, wanting to follow in the footsteps of our fathers. We were young and filled with hope, picking apart the American regime, including the military. Just conversations, acting as if we would be better rulers of our country and beyond. It was our game at first. We had insider knowledge, you know? We were privy to things that most Americans never hear given the family's illustrious past in politics. As it turns out, it was a mistake allowing two kids with far too much time on their hands to learn the nuances and inner workings of our country. It was dangerous. Instead of turning to drugs like a hell of lot of young men were doing at our age, we were establishing the rules and possibilities of building an entirely new world, one we could rule like kings."

He was haunted by what they'd done, which meant it had gone much deeper.

"O-kay. Go on. I need to know everything."

His hesitation was understandable, but I had a bad feeling time was running out.

"Whereas I had other interests, including the growing business, Mitchell became preoccupied with conspiracy theories, learning about some dangerous and potentially damning situations involving the most trusted people in society. I started losing interest, keeping a distance. Sadly, his crazy and unfounded ideas made him insane with the need to change the entire fucking planet. In his twisted mind, he created a world where things could be different, where wars didn't exist. He put his heart and soul into this insane plan including infrastructure and membership lists, exploring ways to gain control of everything from banks to telecommunications. Every powerful industry that he considered important to our future was his playground and he researched and plotted until he believed he had the perfect utopia in his mind."

Everything about what my father was saying was as mesmerizing as it was terrifying. "So what the fuck did that mean?"

His face instantly turned red. "Listen to me. You wanted the story and I said it's complicated. So you need to learn patience."

He was right and I conceded, waving my hand.

"About a year had passed since Mitchell and I had last discussed his crazy idea. You were barely one year old, the apple of your mother's eye. David had just been born, but from the get-go I knew that kid would never be allowed a childhood. Mitchell called me and said he wanted to discuss something huge. I went to his office and was shocked at all the whiteboards and papers taped to his walls."

"The plans for Utopia."

He laughed again, the sound so hollow it bothered the hell out of me. "Yes. As Mitchell began to explain his plans, which included overthrowing at least a dozen governments, I started to realize that he was slowly going insane. He mentioned he wanted you to be the president and because it would take us, as he said then, at least twenty-five years to put everything in place, you'd be the right age to lead our world into the future."

Scoffing, it was my turn to laugh. "What the hell did you say to him?"

He was thoughtful about his answer. "He was my brother. We were so close growing up. We did everything together almost like we were twins. To see him so committed to a project, so certain he was doing the right thing for the future, I listened. I learned. I debated. Ultimately, I agreed, although that took time."

"Jesus."

"Yeah." Pops spun his drink in the air before heading to one of the chairs, slowly sitting down. "It took me three years after that to fully admit my brother had gone completely insane. By then, he'd convinced some of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world to believe enough in his crazy project to invest. It was nuts. There were suddenly millions of dollars in an offshore bank account and more to come. He began approaching certain military operations after that, corporate moguls and politicians. I was shocked how many people came on board with limited questions asked."

"This is nuts."

"Don't you think I don't know that? I did what I could to keep my distance, wanting nothing more than to protect my family. By then, your brothers were toddlers. I was nervous. Hell, I was certain the man was going to try and get his hands on nuclear warheads. Things got ugly between us, so much so I hired more guards to protect my family at all times."

"Which is what was happening when I was in high school."

He nodded. "He confronted me one day when I'd let my guard fall, providing me with intimate knowledge about you. Every class. Every friend you had. Details that he could only know if he had you followed every day. He even said he realized you were a bad seed since you had my blood in you. He no longer wanted you to be what he now called the savior of the new world."

"He was insane."

"Yeah, but I took his threats seriously. I couldn't even recognize him any longer."

I shook my head, wishing I could remain in disbelief, but everyone was always looking for a better way. It was truly the way of the world, people needing hope. "So what the fuck happened, Pops, before you accepted the man was nuts?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, because he's so far off the grid that unless we find him, he just might go through with this insane plan of his. Anything you know about the plans might help."

"Fine. I was so fucking hyped up on the idea of us ruling the world that I was already looking at private goddamn islands. My idea. My fucking idea. It was insane the way my brother pushed so hard, and I bought the crap. We both agreed everything had to be finalized so that when we acted, it was as one finely tuned team."

"You think the time is near."

Pops took a deep breath. The man was positively white. "Yes, I do."

I glanced out the window, trying to imagine the concept. It was unfathomable. "How the hell did you see the light and why?"

"Finally, your mother brought me to my senses, even threatening to leave me and take you kids to a destination where I couldn't find you. I'm telling you, son, women are truly the brains behind us. Always. After her threat, she took me out for a day, forcing me to go to a goddamn carnival, a movie and dinner at what I'd call a freaking funhouse." He seemed perturbed from the memory at first but softened as he always did when talking about my mother. "What she was doing was reminding me of the important things in life." He stopped long enough to lift his head, searching my eyes.

I knew exactly what he was doing. He was pushing me to question everything I believed mattered to me.

"I ate fucking cotton candy, chocolate-covered peanuts, and devoured a hot dog smothered in chili sauce followed by an ice cream cone prior to going on a rollercoaster." Now my father's eyes were wide open with admiration for the woman he'd begged to marry him and also from the fondness the memory had brought. He wagged his finger at me, his booming laughter so rare it caught me off guard. "I can tell you the end result wasn't pretty. I was sick as a freaking dog, but I had more fun than I'd had in as long as I could remember. Moral to the story, son, she brought me down from the rafters. I told Mitchell the next day I wanted nothing to do with his scheme. That started the horrible spiral."

The drink in my hand had gone untouched up to this point but I suddenly had the need to toss it back like Kool-Aid. "The rift was life altering."

The tone of his laughter changed. "Yes, our relationship didn't just change. It was obliterated. At first, he did everything to convince me otherwise, but I held firm. If I hadn't, your mother would have kicked my butt. After that he became incensed, possessive, as if I was planning on stealing his idea. He even broke into the corporate office, ransacking the place. Shit. I almost had my own brother arrested. I took time assuring him I truly wanting nothing to do with Utopia. I also tried to convince him that it wasn't his place to act as God."

"But he refused to listen."

"Exactly," he huffed, staring down at his drink before polishing it off. "For almost two years, I wasn't forced to hear about the shit. I don't know what happened but one day he sold his estate and moved his family closer to New York, where I guess he remains. I'm not really sure. It's been a long time since I talked to him. Nothing came to light until about five years ago. I suspected he was fully entrenched in the new corporation it took me months to find."

I bristled since I'd been completely right about the man knowing much more. "What is this corporation called, Pops?"

"The Prism Group. And yes, they call their burgeoning new world Utopia of all things." He returned to the bar, refilling once again. I'd never seen him this way. However, I was more than pissed he'd kept this from me for all these years. Why? How could he?

The only answer I could figure out was that he was embarrassed by being lured into the idea.

"And the Death Squad?"

He hung his head. "They exist. When I started hearing about various odd attacks, clues surfacing about the branding, I began to keep a close eye while doing additional research. These men are more highly trained than you believe and one day, they will be unleashed on the world, taking out a number of enemies while the main group collapses every world market possible. They are a special group of people with nothing to lose, the worst of humanity. But they are good at what they do. When the world's greatest populations have crumbled, a new king will arise. Like the phoenix rising in the ashes."

There was a brief moment I honestly believed he wished he'd remained entrenched in the organization. Enough that I had my hand wrapped around the man's throat within five seconds, breaking several glasses in the process. "Why did you do this? Why did you keep it from me? From your entire family."

Instead of being angry, he was saddened. At that moment, it appeared he'd aged by fifteen years. "Because I didn't want to believe it was true. Because I knew exactly what you'd do if you found out. You'd go after them without thinking and Mitchell and his group are far too powerful."

"And they're killing people, murdering anyone who they believe might stand in their way. Who's next, Pops? Their families? Every decent politician? Are they planning on exterminating entire populations? How about our family?" Goddamn, I was this close to allowing my anger to get the best of me.

"I would not have believed my own brother capable of hurting my children, his nephews but I know better now."

I took a deep breath, slowly removing my hand. He wasn't to blame. My father was another victim like the rest of us. Only if this had been stopped years before, two decades or more, we wouldn't be in the position.

"How did you come to know the Brotherhood?"

"I met Gabriel Giordano's father a long time ago. He'd invited me to join an alliance back then. It was like having the Five Families all over again only stronger and working more tightly together. I declined at the time because business was thriving. He contacted me later and said his son was being placed in charge. Unfortunately, his firstborn son died and he fell into a state of depression. Anyway, I chatted with the man from time to time, privy to some information about the Brotherhood. When he mentioned whispers on the dark web fifteen years ago, I started paying closer attention. I put security flags on anyone searching for the Death Squad or the Prism Group to try and determine just how many people were involved."

"Which is why when James began an in-depth search, he knew he was hitting a strong security system. That's why you finally confided in me. Isn't it?"

"Not entirely, son. I was trying to build the courage to tell you over the last few years since I felt his plan was coming to fruition. I contacted Gabriel and Constantine, giving them the heads up about what happened to you. I made a strong suggestion that you were perfect for the group and without hesitation, they agreed."

"Did you tell them what you just told me?"

He shook his head. "You had the right to know your uncle is a monster first."

"We figured it out, Pops, on our own."

"I knew you would. You're a smart boy."

"You have no idea where Uncle Mitchell is now? He needs to be stopped. It's the Brotherhood's belief the beginning of Utopia is right around the corner."

Pops sighed. "That's my belief as well. I do not know where Mitchell is and believe me, I've tried to hunt him down, even enlisting the help of friends of mine. As you noted, he completely disappeared off the grid. They're lying in wait like predators. I think they're waiting until the beginning of Utopia."

This was like some fucking horror flick. "Unbelievable."

"I assure you, son, it's not something I wanted to believe in either. The number of people Mitchell reeled in utterly floored me. I'm certain there are hundreds, thousands more."

"The upper echelon of this Prism Group is supposedly buying private islands that they'll likely make into their kingdoms. That's according to a source, something who worked as an account for them before he was let go."

"I had a feeling Mitchell would proceed with my idea." He had a faraway look in his eyes.

"What about some huge Russian connection with Uncle Mitchell. Is that true?"

He brought the rocks glass to his lips, taking a sip before looking out the window. "Yes. From the old days we knew the Bratva were capable and willing to do anything. While he had the Death Squad already in formation, numbers growing every day inside every country, he wanted a solid backing of true savages. Before you ask, I didn't know who they were until I started doing some digging myself."

"Okay. Who are they?"

He returned to the chair, nodding toward the other one. I wasn't in the mood to sit but I sensed whatever he had to tell me now was a bigger bombshell.

If that was fucking possible.

I sat down, taking a quick glance at my watch. "I have a date, Pops. We need to hurry this along."

"You care about that woman, don't you?"

As I leaned back, I considered his question. It would seem everything in my life had become altered, as if I'd been shoved into a parallel world. "I care a lot about her, yes. She is the one who'd reminded me of the things in life that matter. I don't really know how it happened in such a short period of time."

"Women have a way of doing that to you."

Just studying him was a fascinating lesson in human nature. Nothing pulled him off topic except for when my mother was brought up or he thought about her. Did I want that in my life? The answer was somewhat profound.

Yes, I did. "I'm no fool, Dad. I can tell you're trying to tell me something so just get on with it."

He pulled an envelope from his pocket. "You must know I care about you and your brothers. I also have tried to respect your authority, even though I knew you're going to argue with me. What you've done with our dynasty has been incredible."

"But…"

"No buts, son. I will continue being your father, which means I'm going to look out for your best interest, even if it seems I'm going against you in some way. There couldn't be anything further from the truth."

"What in the hell are you getting at now? I also need to have a frank conversation with the Brotherhood about what you've learned. If you have some research data, you need to supply it as well."

"I already left a jump drive on your desk, son. And I'm aware the Brotherhood gave you an extensive list collected through the years on likely members in at least the top two tiers. They do tend to keep the upper echelon very secret. You're going to need to check your list to ensure I'm not wrong."

"About?"

"Inside this envelope is some information about the woman you're falling in love with." He noticed I'd bristled again and threw out his hand. "Remember what I told you, son. Women can be the most treacherous beings on the face of this earth, but they are the only reason life is worth living. I'm an old man, Beckham. I've lived a long time, long enough to have finally learned that things aren't always what they seem."

"Are you trying to tell me that Kenya Markham is a bad influence or worse? She's been the only person in this ugly freaking world who managed to awaken me from the goddamn dead. I will not have you disparage her. Do you fucking hear me?"

I jerked to my feet, ready to toss him out of my office. "She is the one, Beckham. I'm now positive of it."

"But you think she's bad for me."

"You're missing what I'm trying to say or I'm just saying it badly. Inside this envelope is the truth about who she really is. Sadly, if you compare it to the list you received from the Brotherhood, I think you'll find some correlation. However, you need to listen to your heart on this one. Just trust me. I'll repeat myself. Things aren't always what they seem and often, people will do anything they can to get away from the evil in their lives, even in that means they're forced to start all over again. Try and remember that if and when you open that envelope. And be careful of Mitchell, son. I don't believe he has any humanity left." He placed his glass and the envelope on the coffee table and stood, giving me a rare respectful nod.

As he walked out, I closed my eyes briefly.

When I finally glanced at what he'd left, my gut told me not to open it. But the business mogul inside of me, the one that had been through recent horrific attacks told me otherwise. Leaning over, I jerked the envelope into my hand, finally standing and heading to my desk. The jump drive Pops had brought had been placed next to the laptop. I already had the one that Constantine had provided in the slot, taking about ten minutes to check the list they'd compiled prior to heading up to visit Kenya. The list was extensive.

And overwhelming.

I changed them out, pulling up the database Pops had compiled. After that, I opened the envelope. After a quick glance, I had to sit down. I flipped through the photographs and other information he'd somehow managed to gather, finally shoving it aside. I pressed both hands against the sides of my face, lowering my head as I tried to figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do.

However, the first thing to do was to double-check the name. It could be nothing more than a mistake. What if it wasn't? What if she'd lied to me? What if she'd been a plant?

The idea was far-fetched. Granted, the city was tiny and it was possible the fuckers had attacked us at a location the odds were we'd find the bed and breakfast. Goddamn it. I couldn't really be buying this shit. Now who was into some crazy conspiracy theory?

But with minimal hesitation, I did my due diligence by searching Dad's database alphabetically.

And fuck. There it was.

Would my father be so devious as to fake what he'd found? Fucking bullshit. But there was one possible way of double checking. I swapped the jump drives again, pulling up the much more extensive list provided by the Brotherhood. It took a little longer to search given the volume of names, but when the search grid locked onto the same name, a group considered in the second tier, I leaned back in my chair.

What. The. Fuck?

"Am I interrupting?"

Her voice, her soft and seductive voice was suddenly echoing in my ears. As occurred every time I was in the same room with Kenya, I was suddenly much more alive, my heart thudding. Today was no different and as I glanced toward the door, my breath was ripped entirely from my body given her extreme beauty. Unable to stop myself, I whistled in appreciation, immediately closing the laptop and sliding the evidence into my drawer.

"You'll never be considered an interruption. You're far too beautiful."

She spun around in a full circle, allowing me to see every inch of the stunning dress she'd chosen from the small collection I'd had purchased for her.

The woman made my mouth water.

She also infuriated the hell out of me.

Now I had a choice to make, just like my father had mentioned.

One path was risky, dangerous to all I knew.

But the other would be heartbreaking.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"I just need to make a very quick phone call. I'll meet you out front."

"You're allowing me out of the house?" She batted her lovely eyelashes. "I'm in shock."

"I assure you that if you tried to run, you wouldn't get very far. I am a predator, you know."

"Oh, I know. I know very well."

She spun around again before walking out, even daring to blow me a kiss before disappearing from sight.

And for the first time in maybe forever, I felt like a shit because of what might need to be done.