Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

V alerio

Threats.

I didn't appreciate them, nor did I allow them to go unpunished.

After all, I wasn't a nice guy under most circumstances. When you dared point your finger in my face, accusing me of lying and my firm of stealing, all hell tended to break loose.

That's exactly what had occurred, the rage I tried my best to keep buried inside flaring to the point I was almost frothing at the mouth. I usually wasn't known for my vicious temper tantrums, but James Spinnaker had plucked my last nerve.

That's why I currently had my hand wrapped around his throat, his body lifted to his toes and his back against the wall.

"What did you fucking say to us again?" I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Whoa. I think we all need to calm down," my brother Braxton said as he flanked one side, my other brother Gage the other.

Fucking thank God it was Friday afternoon.

If not, I might need to jump off the roof of the building.

"Braxton is right. I'm certain Mr. Spinnaker didn't mean anything by his ridiculous accusations," Gage said. "Did you? Sir? " His disdain was evident.

James was red-faced from the amount of pressure I was using. Soon, he'd be choking. Why was it that I suddenly didn't care?

Maybe because the man and his son had been pushing our buttons for over six months, acting as if their insistence on making bad choices on risky stock was our fault.

Bullshit.

So I squeezed until I was pretty certain his lips were turning blue.

"You will never, ever accuse us again of stealing from you, James, dear buddy. If you do, I will have you tossed out of our firm so fast your head will spin. Then I'll make certain to have you blackballed."

I wasn't going to share with him that my brothers and I used rather brutal tactics in ensuring our clients were kept in line, such as extortion and blackmail. But only when necessary and only for the worst clients.

I'd be damned if this man didn't qualify.

"Do. You. Understand?" I asked, lowering my face closer to his. There was much benefit in being much taller than the normal man and I often used it to my advantage.

Damn it. He acted like he was going to continue defying me.

"Hey, bro," Braxton huffed, sliding to where I could see his face. "He ain't worth it. He's like pond scum, determined to use cheap tricks and money laundering to make a fortune."

While there were times the three of us sparred as any family did, we also had the ability to read each other's minds, which worked well in these scenarios.

Especially since I could easily have murder on my mind.

"Yeah, but I think Mr. Spinnaker and I need to come to an understanding. So, do you get it, James? If so, bob that ugly head of yours."

He was now spitting at the mouth, smacking his hands against my arms like a bird flapping its wings.

Fucking pathetic.

I could easily snap his neck if I so desired.

And I did. I really did.

It had been a long time since I'd taken out my aggression on anyone.

Finally, the bastard nodded and I let him go, even being kind and ensuring he didn't fucking fall over. See? I could be a nice guy.

When you didn't fucking cross me.

Our reputation was everything. It was days like this I wanted to head to the islands. Where we owned not one but two fabulous resorts. I could see island living twenty-four/seven at this point.

Both Braxton and Gage breathed sighs of relief while James coughed.

That's what heavy smoking would do for you.

I backed away, planting my hands on my hips and pacing the floor of our conference room. There were many cool aspects of running a high-dollar wealth management firm, including you were provided with access to personal items and accounts not usually considered acceptable.

That's why we kept a file of various misdeeds or naughty things our clients did. It was for times like this.

I cracked my neck and could hear Gage saying something to the buzzard, although I wasn't interested enough in the words to home in on the verbiage.

However, I did hear Braxton's terse tone.

"My brother is right, Mr. Spinnaker. We will never tolerate that kind of behavior. This is your last warning."

The man grumbled and coughed. And grumbled some more, but when I finally turned around, he was straightening his tie. Unsurprisingly he had venom in his eyes when he looked at me. But I think I'd made myself pretty clear.

He couldn't fuck with us without facing consequences.

"Are we all calm enough to discuss this?" Gage asked.

I narrowed my eyes, even tipping my head toward Mr. Spinnaker, waiting to see how he handled what had just happened.

While he moved toward the conference room table, pouring himself some water, he was back to his normal appearance.

"Sons. I have goldfish older than any of you," he said as if what had just occurred had never happened. "I know the score."

"What score is that?" Gage asked, his tone holding a little sign of warning.

James took a sip and looked from one to the other brother before locking eyes with me. "Someone has pushed you into a corner, which has made you more irritable. I was only kidding, although I admit the joke was in poor taste."

"Poor taste?" I threw at him and Braxton threw out his hand to try to pull me back to earth.

"Yes, I apologize to all of you," James continued.

The most fascinating part about this was that he'd acted as if someone was threatening us and not just him. There wasn't a day that went by we weren't burned in effigy. I sensed the man had more than a clue about something devious going on or perhaps that he was planning.

I'd need to keep my eye on him.

Leaning over, I drummed my fingers on the conference room table, trying not to laugh as I glanced at my two brothers. They were equally amused.

This was the man playing hardball, something he was good at. But he'd sought out our firm, not the other way around. Which meant I had him by the balls.

"And we have clients much older than you, if that's something you can believe given your advanced age."

I threw a look at Braxton, doing my best to mask my amusement. He had a keen understanding of human nature, a love of finding that one thing people didn't even know was a weakness and exploiting it to the hilt. Plus, he was trying to break the tension in the room.

"Let's all sit down," Gage suggested.

Given Mr. Spinnaker was worth close to a billion dollars, the Royal Agency, the most well respected and sought after wealth management firm in the entire state of California and beyond, would certainly appreciate his business. However, we'd learned over the years never to kowtow to a rich man.

Especially since Braxton, Gage, and I were each worth even more. Some of our money had come from our father's lucrative media firm and our trust funds established early in our lives. A larger chunk had been because the three of us at an early age had decided wealth management had tremendous possibilities.

But the largest portion of our wealth had been because of our ridiculous whim thought of over drinks at some local bar to create an opulent island resort. However, we hadn't been interested in simply building a prim and proper retreat for the rich and famous or even an opulent casino.

We'd hungered for more given our rather dark needs as men.

Much more.

We were barely in our twenties when the Royal Players Club had been born. While it had taken us a few years to find the right locations for not one but two planned resorts on private islands, we'd done it in record time. After that, we'd enjoyed building an empire most would consider… kinky.

We were sadistic men, our desires some women would call heinous, but our yearnings seemed to be in our bloodline.

Tainted? Maybe.

Enjoyable?

Without a doubt.

We'd developed an entire empire, the two clubs located on islands close to St. Martin and St. Thomas exclusive, very private, and something only those in Mr. Spinnaker's echelon of the world able to afford. We had a waiting list a few months long so it would seem we were doing something right.

After we all returned to the table, Mr. Spinnaker laughed, once again glancing at the proposed stocks Gage had taken the time to put together into a nice, slightly risky portfolio. The man was seventy-two years old, for fuck's sake. I wasn't entirely certain why he was so damn worried about doubling his income other than he had a young wife to consider.

I hesitated, rolling my eyes at the thought. He wasn't a looker by any means, but the women loved him. He also had other proclivities that would remain a secret unless…

"The truth is, I knew I made the right decision coming to you boys," he said. "Let's sign the contracts. I have a lunch date to get to."

Now he was backpedaling, but I would allow it. Better for business. Better for my blood pressure.

But Jesus, I needed relief.

"Very well, Mr. Spinnaker, but our terms are clear," I told him.

As I shoved the paperwork in his direction, I finally grinned at Braxton. I'd learned early on in our illustrious career together the guy had the best instincts in the business.

Gage fawned over the man as he was best at doing while I rose from the chair, heading toward the bar. It had been a long week, Friday not coming soon enough.

I poured a glass of Glenlivet, my office liquor when I indulged, which was rare. As I stood in front of the window staring out at the rolling waters of the Pacific, I noticed Braxton's presence behind me in the reflection of the glass.

He poured a drink first before flanking my side. We stood silently as Gage continued to shmooze our new client as only he could do. He was lucky in that he'd garnered his suave sophistication from his mother, the woman now a stepmother to Braxton and me. I was actually surprised she and our father were still married. My father had a roaming eye and then some.

"You're tense lately," Braxton said quietly.

Yes, I was. I should be able to consider this the time of my life, yet my father had been breathing down my neck. Since I was the oldest of the three of us, he wanted more than I desired to give him.

Plus, my instincts had been on overdrive lately that Pops had gotten himself in the middle of something. Now, with what James Boy had just said, I was certain I was right.

"Yeah, Pops has been pushing for a dinner meeting. Let alone that asshole," I snarked.

"Just the two of you?"

"Yep. You know what that means."

Braxton clapped his hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad you're the oldest."

"Oh, thanks."

"Did you see the article in the LA Times this morning?" he asked.

I took another swallow and sighed. He liked to keep up with whatever media fodder was active but I couldn't care less. "Let me guess, a couple of actors Dad hired are in trouble."

"You got it. Plus, the reporter had the nerve to assert his two cents' worth of bullshit. He thinks Dad is too old to be effective in the business and his son perched to take over was no better than the skanky actors Progressive Media hired."

A cough pushed up from my throat. "He did not use the term skanky."

"Oh, yes, he did."

"Well, I guess I know what Pops wants to meet about."

He laughed. "You're probably right. Incidentally, I'm having a little party this weekend, including the hottest models in all of California. Why don't you swing by? Since you're a skanky party boy and all."

"Very funny. And here I thought it was your turn to check the clubs." I tipped my head toward him, noticing his mischievous grin. One of us regularly flew from one location to the other to ensure our guests were being catered to the way we'd promised in our glossy brochures.

"Nope," he said as he swirled the liquid in his glass. "Gage volunteered to switch with me. If you ask me, I'd say the man has someone on the side."

"He is an adult and can do whatever he wants."

"Speaking of which. When are you going to start dating again? Like serious dating?"

I wanted to say when hell froze over, but Braxton wouldn't allow me to get away with that. I'd been stupid enough to actually care about a girl at one point in my life, which had been against the motto and identity I'd created for myself now some almost twenty years before.

Never have feelings for any woman. Use them. Enjoy them. Pleasure them. But in the end, toss them aside.

It had worked for the most part. Now I could barely stand the thought of going out with anyone.

"I'm busy. You know that," I told him.

"You're getting gray hair, buddy."

"Speak for yourself, bastard."

As Mr. Spinnaker rose from the seat, I shook my head from the look my brother was giving me. Gage was also extremely good at forcing a new client to sign on the dotted line before they could even consider changing their mind.

"You're going to be a lonely old man," Braxton whispered to end the conversation as both of us turned around to shake hands with our client.

What really bothered me was that my brother was right. I was tired of attending swanky parties and hobnobbing with celebrities and politicians. I was also repulsed by basically hiring arm candy to attend said events with me.

Which was why I planned on retreating to a house I barely spent time in, maybe even doing something out of the ordinary for me.

Walking the pristine beach I could barely remember paying any attention to over the last year or two.

With all the pleasantries finished, Gage guided James to the door, offering the perfect amount of praise as required. Or as my father liked to call it, stroking a man's ego. Once the door was closed, Gage groaned and dropped his head.

"A hard win," Braxton muttered.

"I'm getting too old for this." Gage laughed as he finally headed toward the bar himself.

"What if the perfect woman just dropped into your life?" Braxton asked me. Why he was busting my balls was beyond me.

"First of all, there is no perfect woman. Second, I don't think any female is suddenly going to drop into my life. We have far too many security measures established years ago."

Gage wrinkled his brow as soon as he turned around. "Brax, buddy. Leave the man alone. He's destined to be the male equivalent of an old maid."

The two of them laughed while I issued a primal growl. They could laugh, something dear old Dad wasn't doing. I wouldn't be able to avoid his phone call or his request for lunch or dinner for much longer.

Not if I wanted to inherit the main portion of his wildly wealthy regime after he retired.

Life was honestly a pain in the ass.