size, and power sharpened his patsy edges. He’d thought that losing his mother would have helped remove the final vestiges of protectiveness. He’d been so fucking wrong. It almost cost him everything.
With no heir to pass his power and fortune, what good was having it? Kobi had been eager to take Baine’s spot. The sewer rat was kidding himself if he thought for a minute Devereaux would leave his empire in his addicted hands. He’d snort through it in a month. Never. The loyal dog had a place at the table. Just not at the head.
His boy finally came around, as he’d felt certain he would. Power. Money. Pussy. Gets a man every time.
Little by little, Devereaux fed his son all three. And now, Baine was the man to take the helm. He’d proven it by taking out Bakou, and even his own men. Brutality harnessed power, and his son learned from the best.
He’d answered the who. The only question left was the when. When would he give the day-to-day dealings over? Devereaux tapped the date on his calendar. Not the date he would cede control. The date he’d gain control of five territories at once. By the end of the week he’d double his wealth and cement his place as the number one arms trafficker of all time.
Again his hand found his heart.
“Dinner is served.” The butler's call pulled him out of his thoughts and into the present. Which was a pretty damn good place to be with a hot tongue on his neck and an eager hand crawling up his thigh.
Devereaux put his phone in his pocket and turned to his latest lady. He’d already found her hot in all the right places, except one. This lady was hot for a husband. A rich one. Disappointment would come knocking on her door pretty damn soon. He’d already been saddled once out of necessity, and when the necessity died, so did his one and only wife.
“You can finish me off after dinner,” he said.
She smiled. “My pleasure.”
No, it’d be his.
He left the couch and the escort followed. For the first time he noticed his son tangled like a fuck-pretzel with the troublemaker. How the hell could he have missed that kind of display? Shit, he got wood just looking at them all but devouring each other.
Devereaux waited until they disentangled and walked his way.
“Son,” he greeted.
“Father.” He nodded.
“And who do we have here?” he asked, offering his hand.
Her smile, hesitant and coy, captivated him. “My name is Sloan, Mr. Kendrick. Nice to meet you.”
He cupped her small hand in his and brought it to his lips. Lord, she was smooth as silk. “I hear you’ve stirred quite the ruckus between my son and Mr. Ross.”
Her eyes dropped. “It was never my intent—”
“Yes. Yes. I’m sure. Those two are merely sublimating. They fight over you because I won’t allow them to fight over me.”
Again she gave him that smile.
“But,” he added, looking at the siren and his son in turn, “don’t cause trouble where there’s already plenty.”
“Yes, sir,” she complied.
“I’ll screw who I choose, when I choose,” Baine said unapologetically. “That dog of yours can look elsewhere.”
“I see you’re not getting soft on me, Son, which is all I hoped to assure myself of with this little tribunal. Can’t have you developing protective feelings for the hired help.”
“Feelings,” the man snorted. “Don’t confuse them with fucking. Besides, you beat them out of me long ago, Father.”
“One can never be too sure. Speaking of trouble, where is ole’ Mr. Ross?” he asked the room. “He can’t miss dinner. We have much to discuss.”
“I’ll get him,” one of his men said.
After the salads were taken away, Kobi Ross weaved his way into the dinning room and onto the chair across from him and next to Baine.
Devereaux addressed the latecomer. “I see you’ve already partaken of the spirits this evening.”
“Surry bosss, it won’t happen again,” he slurred.
“If it does, I’ll take you out back and shoot you
With no heir to pass his power and fortune, what good was having it? Kobi had been eager to take Baine’s spot. The sewer rat was kidding himself if he thought for a minute Devereaux would leave his empire in his addicted hands. He’d snort through it in a month. Never. The loyal dog had a place at the table. Just not at the head.
His boy finally came around, as he’d felt certain he would. Power. Money. Pussy. Gets a man every time.
Little by little, Devereaux fed his son all three. And now, Baine was the man to take the helm. He’d proven it by taking out Bakou, and even his own men. Brutality harnessed power, and his son learned from the best.
He’d answered the who. The only question left was the when. When would he give the day-to-day dealings over? Devereaux tapped the date on his calendar. Not the date he would cede control. The date he’d gain control of five territories at once. By the end of the week he’d double his wealth and cement his place as the number one arms trafficker of all time.
Again his hand found his heart.
“Dinner is served.” The butler's call pulled him out of his thoughts and into the present. Which was a pretty damn good place to be with a hot tongue on his neck and an eager hand crawling up his thigh.
Devereaux put his phone in his pocket and turned to his latest lady. He’d already found her hot in all the right places, except one. This lady was hot for a husband. A rich one. Disappointment would come knocking on her door pretty damn soon. He’d already been saddled once out of necessity, and when the necessity died, so did his one and only wife.
“You can finish me off after dinner,” he said.
She smiled. “My pleasure.”
No, it’d be his.
He left the couch and the escort followed. For the first time he noticed his son tangled like a fuck-pretzel with the troublemaker. How the hell could he have missed that kind of display? Shit, he got wood just looking at them all but devouring each other.
Devereaux waited until they disentangled and walked his way.
“Son,” he greeted.
“Father.” He nodded.
“And who do we have here?” he asked, offering his hand.
Her smile, hesitant and coy, captivated him. “My name is Sloan, Mr. Kendrick. Nice to meet you.”
He cupped her small hand in his and brought it to his lips. Lord, she was smooth as silk. “I hear you’ve stirred quite the ruckus between my son and Mr. Ross.”
Her eyes dropped. “It was never my intent—”
“Yes. Yes. I’m sure. Those two are merely sublimating. They fight over you because I won’t allow them to fight over me.”
Again she gave him that smile.
“But,” he added, looking at the siren and his son in turn, “don’t cause trouble where there’s already plenty.”
“Yes, sir,” she complied.
“I’ll screw who I choose, when I choose,” Baine said unapologetically. “That dog of yours can look elsewhere.”
“I see you’re not getting soft on me, Son, which is all I hoped to assure myself of with this little tribunal. Can’t have you developing protective feelings for the hired help.”
“Feelings,” the man snorted. “Don’t confuse them with fucking. Besides, you beat them out of me long ago, Father.”
“One can never be too sure. Speaking of trouble, where is ole’ Mr. Ross?” he asked the room. “He can’t miss dinner. We have much to discuss.”
“I’ll get him,” one of his men said.
After the salads were taken away, Kobi Ross weaved his way into the dinning room and onto the chair across from him and next to Baine.
Devereaux addressed the latecomer. “I see you’ve already partaken of the spirits this evening.”
“Surry bosss, it won’t happen again,” he slurred.
“If it does, I’ll take you out back and shoot you
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