Chapter 23

23

Gideon walked out of the bathroom after a much-needed shower, hair still dripping, a towel around his neck, to the sound of a knock on the bedroom door. He hurried over to open it, ready to silence whoever waited on the other side.

"Miss Juliette."

Jules didn't answer him. Instead, she peered past him, taking in her brother, who was face down on the bed, hugging the pillow, snoring loudly. Only then did she gaze up at Gideon from her wheelchair, one eyebrow raised. "So, you and Dré are really together, huh?"

Okay. He was in no way prepared for an interrogation by a fifteen-year-old, but he would take it. For André. And for Jules. "Why don't I get dressed and we can talk, huh?" It didn't feel appropriate to stand in front of her wearing a pair of loose pants and nothing else. He glanced at the bodyguard he'd assigned to her, who stood a little ways off to the side, then back to Jules. "Have you eaten?" He looked over his shoulder at the digital clock on the nightstand on André's side of the bed. Almost one p.m. He and André had crashed—hard—when they'd gotten in from meeting with The Council.

"I had breakfast," she told him.

"Then you and I can have lunch. Give me a minute." He tossed her a wink, then closed the door gently in her face with a soft chuckle. The way the siblings loved each other, he'd known that sooner or later Jules would want to give him a speech, and he would listen and take it to heart. He respected André's little sister more than Gideon respected the man who was actually complicit in his lover's birth.

He dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt and pulled the covers up over André before he exited the bedroom. With a tilt of his chin, he dismissed Jules's bodyguard, and Gideon pushed her wheelchair as they made their way down to the kitchen. He was still so fucking tired he could've slept for another ten hours, but his body was trained to rise at a certain time, so there he was, smothering a yawn as he entered the kitchen.

He greeted the chef and the couple of other people in there, grunting his thanks when the chef immediately poured him a cup of coffee. At the large kitchen table off to the side and out of the way of the people in charge of making his food, he joined Jules, who studied him with narrowed eyes.

"How come you don't use the actual dining room?" she asked.

The room in question was a formal dining room, very opulent, large enough to host at least a fifty-person dinner party. "The kitchen feels more like home," he told her. It reminded him of being young and sitting down with his parents for a meal. Ironically, he and his family had shared their meals in a formal area, but it wasn't the same. Unlike his dining room, being in the kitchen felt homey, warm, and intimate.

He guzzled his coffee, holding the cup in both hands, eyes closed, but all the while he felt Jules's gaze on him. "Something on your mind, Miss Juliette?" He didn't open his eyes when he urged her, "You can speak. I'm listening."

"Sir."

He lifted his lashes to find the chef standing over his table.

"Anything in particular you'd like us to prepare for your meal?"

"A sandwich. The way I like it, please." He held up the cup. "More coffee. What about you, Miss Juliette? What do you feel like eating?"

She shrugged. "A sandwich is fine."

"Very well." The chef topped off Gideon's coffee, then turned away. "Sandwiches coming right up."

"Thank you," Gideon called after him before refocusing on Jules. "You were saying?"

"Do you love him? Do you love Dré?" There was worry in her brown eyes. Worry for her brother. Fear too.

Gideon didn't like it, not one bit. He didn't like that those two had been on their own, fending for themselves and having only each other to look out for them, for so long. He didn't like that Jules—at such a young age—already had such an adult and maybe even jaded view of things. He reached over to her, palm up on the table, and after a small hesitation, she placed her hand in his.

Gideon linked their fingers, squeezing her gently. "I love your brother very much. I am in love with him, yes." He nodded. "And as you are a part of him, I love you too, Miss Juliette."

Her lips trembled and she blinked rapidly.

"I will never hurt André or allow another soul to hurt him. I will never hurt or allow anyone to do the same to you. I already told him, now I'm telling you, you are safe with me. Every part of you."

She stared at him and he smiled.

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes." Her voice wobbled but she got the word out, and it filled him with the warmest, most tender sensation.

Staring into Jules's shining eyes, holding her shaking hand, it hit Gideon then. All this time he'd thought his purpose was destroying The Council. He'd thought it'd been finding out the identity of who'd killed his mother. But now, he was coming to suspect that his purpose was this.

André and Jules.

To love them and to be loved by them, in return. To protect them. To have a true family with them.

He released Jules and sat back slowly.

His father had loved him fiercely, completely, but Aldo had also been a man grieving the loss of his wife and his son, since Gideon had to be in hiding, away from him. They saw each other in person, but those instances had been few and far between. Their relationship, for the most part, had been conducted over video and phone calls. Aldo had been his teacher, his commander, honing Gideon into the man his father wanted him to be. The man Aldo couldn't be. And Gideon had taken up that mantle because it'd been all he knew. All he'd been fed—revenge, payback, destruction.

Now, staring at that young lady across the table, he wanted the things he'd never once considered back when he'd been learning ten thousand ways to destroy a man without killing him. He wanted a family. He wanted a love that was all his and unconditional.

"Are we gonna be living here with you from now on?" Jules asked as if reading his mind.

Gideon chuckled. "That's not something your brother and I have discussed, but if and when we do, you'll know." It was what he wanted, though. But was it too soon to broach that topic with André?

They settled into silence, Gideon staring into his coffee cup. When was the right time to ask André to move in with him? And would he say yes if Gideon did ask? He wasn't sure.

The chef brought their food a short time later and they dug in, Gideon humming in appreciation. He couldn't recall the last time he'd eaten. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" he asked Jules.

She didn't look up from her plate. "Nothing. Well, I have to talk to that therapist you and Dré got me." She lifted her head then, rolling her eyes. "And then I have a project that I have to put the finishing touches on before I turn it in." She was attending classes remotely—after Gideon had a nice video chat with the principal of her school—and seemed to be doing well so far, though both he and André knew that Jules missed seeing her friends and socializing.

He had to wrap up his business, or at least ensure that it was safe enough for her to return to the life she knew and loved. He didn't want her isolated the way he'd been growing up.

"The therapist is nonnegotiable, so don't even think about missing any appointments." After all she'd experienced lately, it had been imperative that they got her to speak to a professional. "Want to have dinner with your brother and me? You can choose the menu." He'd noticed that Jules liked being included in things, and he tried to make sure she always was. It was worth it, especially when she smiled so widely.

"I would like that. Thanks, G."

"Nope." He wagged a finger at her. "We're not doing that. You, Miss Juliette, can only call me by my full name." He wasn't serious though, and she knew it because she laughed with a mouth full of food as Samir entered the kitchen, expression somber.

"It's begun," Samir told him.

The plans Gideon had set in place, everything he'd laid out for André on the plane, was happening. If this was any other time, he would've gotten up from the table and run to watch it unfold, but not now. Right now, he would sit and enjoy his meal with Jules. He lifted a fork in a mock salute to Samir as Jules's confused gaze ping-ponged between the two of them. "One domino down…"

Soon they would all fall.

André came awake to a warm wet mouth wrapped around his dick and slurping noises filling his ears. He moaned, widening his thighs without opening his eyes, and reached down, palming the back of Gideon's bobbing head.

"Hmm." He rolled his hips lazily until fingers, wet with saliva and pre-cum, breached his ass, and then his eyes flew open, legs lifting as well. "Gideon, fuck!"

Gideon chuckled, and the sound vibrated down the length of André's shaft, making his eyes roll back in his head. He arched, fisting Gideon's short hair and bucking into his mouth, down his throat. He shuddered at the sounds the two of them made together, the symphony of pleasure that filled the room. And he floated, lost to the heat melting his bones as Gideon sucked the life out of him.

Gideon's fingers kept thrusting inside of André, curved to press against his spot while his tongue incapacitated him.

"Shit. I'm coming! Gideon, fuck!" Just like that, André was shaking, ass muscles clenching and cum spurting into Gideon's waiting mouth. His hips jerked as Gideon didn't pause sucking him, not for a moment, emptying his balls until André had nothing.

Not even air in his lungs.

He fell back against the pillows and eventually Gideon eased off him, allowing André's spent dick to slide out of his mouth, fingers dragging out of him. André's breath hitched, his entire body quivering.

Gideon kissed his way up André's body, then dropped onto the bed next to him, cupping André's face. "Are you okay?"

André smelled himself on Gideon's breath, spotted a drop of cum at the corner of his mouth, and leaned forward, tongue flicking out to clean it up. Gideon moaned, lips parting, begging for André's tongue, so André gave it to him while reaching between them, into Gideon's underwear, and fisting his erection.

He liked it when Gideon moaned. It was a low, rumbling thing that never failed to bring goose bumps to the surface of André's skin. And he liked it when Gideon's hips rolled, his swollen dick with the wet tip plunging in and out of André's grip. André kept kissing him, wild and hungry as he jerked the other man off. Their tongues twisted, wrapping around each other as they panted into the kiss.

"Come for me," he growled into Gideon's mouth, and Gideon did with a low whine, hot cum spurting over André's knuckles. More than anything else, André loved that he had the power he had, to command the Winters. He kept tugging on Gideon's shaft while tongue-fucking him, and Gideon clung to him, his breaths harsh and body jerking.

André felt powerful within their dynamic because Gideon had done everything to empower him. But in bed, knowing he could do whatever he wanted and the other man would let him? That was something else entirely.

He finally released Gideon, wiping his sticky hands on the sheets. They lay on their sides facing each other, panting, bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of their orgasms.

"Are you okay?" André repeated Gideon's question back to him.

His eyes were closed but Gideon opened them, meeting André's gaze. The haze of orgasm was already fading from his blue eyes and his lips curved before he answered. "When I'm with you, I am."

But when he wasn't with André? He touched Gideon's face, absentmindedly stroking his cheek. He was in the middle of it now with Gideon, so he had an up-close-and-personal look at how the sausage was made, as it were. People on the outside looking in would only see the money and the status, the power. They didn't know anything else about the man behind the powerful name. André had been one of those people once upon a time, judging a man he didn't know based on brief snippets of shit he saw in the media. He was so thankful that he'd gotten to know the true Gideon Winters.

He was also thankful that he'd put his unfounded bias aside. Otherwise, he would have lost out on this.

"Anything you wanna talk about?" he asked.

Gideon breathed deeply, then shook his head. "Yes, but not right now." He sat up, regret in his eyes. "I have a meeting that I can't miss. And I want you there with me."

"Okay." André sat up as well. "Whatever you need."

"I promised Juliette we'll have dinner with her tonight." Gideon got out of bed and stripped off his underwear. "So, we need to get going." Striding past the clothes scattered on the floor, clothes he'd likely taken off before joining André in the bed, he entered the bathroom and André followed.

"What's the meeting about?"

Gideon didn't look at him as he turned the shower on. "That plan I told you about on the plane?" He glanced over his shoulder and André nodded. "It's already in motion. I need to ensure the next step is in place, so that's what we're doing."

That didn't really explain much, but André didn't call the other man out on it. He knew Gideon would go into more detail whenever he felt ready.

They showered, taking turns washing each other. Their bodies responded to the soft touches and kisses they kept pausing to sneak in, but they didn't take it further than sucking on each other's tongues. When they were finished, they got dressed, André in a suit matching Gideon's. A suit Gideon had provided for him, in his size and everything. A suit André would've never bought for himself simply because he couldn't…the designer was that expensive.

When they were dressed, Gideon eyed him with a lick of his lips and lust in his eyes. André chuckled and took a step back.

"Don't look at me like that. We don't have time for whatever it is you're thinking."

"We could make time." Gideon closed the distance between them, hands landing on André's hips, burying his face in André's neck and inhaling deeply. "You smell so good."

His breath on André's skin had him shivering, and he brought his hands up, tunneling fingers through Gideon's hair and jerking his head back. Kissing him. A peck at first. And then they were tonguing each other down, grinding on each other. Gideon's hands dropped from André's hips to smooth over his ass cheeks before cupping them, squeezing just as a knock came on the door.

"G."

Gideon released a despondent moan at the sound of Samir's voice. "No."

His sentiments exactly, but… "Looks like we have to go," André murmured against his lips. "I'll make it up to you later though."

"You'd better." Gideon pecked him one last time, then blew out a breath and stepped back, tugging on his jacket and then smoothing his hair. "Let's go." He held out a hand for André as he opened the door to find Samir eyeing them with full-on judgment in his eyes. As if he knew what they'd been about to do.

"Ready?" Samir lifted an eyebrow.

"Yeah, let's do this," Gideon told him.

They took the helicopter. And this time every last one of Gideon's core team of bodyguards was present. Something big was going down. He held his tongue and didn't ask questions. Not even when they landed about twenty-five minutes later and were quickly ushered into blacked-out SUVs. André just held Gideon's hand, half listening as his man talked to Samir and the others.

He almost drifted off to sleep until they came to a halt at a restaurant. Well, they were in the back alley of a restaurant that André didn't know the name of. He and Gideon waited until the bodyguards exited first, then Gideon got out and helped André down.

When André straightened and looked around, he bit back even more questions that formed on his tongue. Men dressed in black, wearing serious expressions and earpieces, were positioned all around them. They weren't Gideon's men.

Leaning over, he asked Gideon in a whisper, "Who are we meeting?" Had to be somebody big. Somebody important. Even Gideon didn't have that many bodyguards around him when he went out.

A back door opened before Gideon could answer, and someone stood in the doorway. "Mister Winters." The woman—white, who appeared to be in her thirties, with long red hair and dressed in black trousers and a cream blouse—motioned for Gideon to follow her. "This way, please." She was familiar, but André couldn't place her.

Gideon followed, holding on to André's hand. Samir and the others brought up the rear.

The woman paused. "Your people will have to remain here, Mister Winters."

"No, they will not." Gideon didn't break his stride, nor did his tone leave any room for follow-up conversation.

The woman let it go and they entered the restaurant's kitchen. It was empty. Sparkling clean, smelling like cleaning products. No sight of food anywhere, which reminded André that he hadn't eaten anything since he'd woken up.

Even more men in black were posted up inside the restaurant. He still hadn't gotten an answer to his question of who they would be meeting.

The familiar-looking woman led them past the silent sentries and into the restaurant's dining area. It was dimmer than it should have been, as if someone had forgotten to change out the expired light bulbs. It took André a minute to realize that the place was closed up. No daylight came in because the windows were all closed and shuttered.

It was empty, save for one table where a man sat waiting. His head had been tilted up as he spoke to the other person standing next to him, but as they entered the room, he glanced in their direction.

André's steps faltered.

The president?

"We're meeting with the president?" he hissed at Gideon.

"Hm-hm."

"Of the United States?" The question was shrill, but seriously, what the fuck ?

"Gideon, my boy." The president got to his feet slowly and Gideon released André, walking over and clasping hands with the older man.

The. President. My God. What was life right now? André stared at the two of them without blinking. Now the men in black made sense. But so many other things didn't. He and Gideon hadn't even been searched. Shouldn't they have been before being in the same room with the president? But then he remembered how Gideon had spoken to the woman with the red hair.

And he wondered, between Gideon and the man he was shaking hands with, which one of them actually held the most power?

"Mister President. Good to see you again." Gideon turned toward André, beaming as he waved him over. "Allow me to introduce you to someone special."