Prodigal (Council #1)

Chapter 11

11

Gideon didn’t think it would take such effort to not touch André. To watch the other man walk away from him and toward the bedroom door, opening it to reveal Samir, who stood on the other side with a tick in his jaw.

Not who Gideon wanted to deal with at the moment. Especially with a hard dick and frustration hollowing his gut. For a moment, responsibilities and strategies were inconsequential and all he wanted was André’s touch. His kiss.

Disappointment filled his chest but he only had himself to blame. He shouldn’t have allowed any of it. But he couldn’t help himself when it came to André. It felt right, verbally sparring with him. Watching him blush and deny himself. Plus, the possibility of having him again, the thought that André could allow Gideon to kiss him again… Gideon kept hoping, waiting for an opening.

Which was closed now because André had enough sense to know this thing wouldn’t work. Then there was Samir, who stood at the door like a parent about to scold a wayward child.

Gideon swallowed back a sigh.

“You have a visitor,” Samir told him. There were a million unspoken things in his eyes but he didn’t voice them—he wouldn’t, not until he and Gideon were alone. Gideon loved him for that, even though he also dreaded that moment. He wasn’t prepared for Samir to tell him how much of a bad idea getting involved with André was.

Gideon knew. And still, he was finding it harder and harder to care. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Ree.”

André had his back to Gideon, but at Ree’s name, he glanced over his shoulder just long enough for Gideon to make out the hurt in his eyes before André masked it. “Oh, look. Your girlfriend is here.” He stepped aside with his hand still on the doorknob, a not-so-silent—or subtle—invite for Gideon to leave. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Ree is not my girlfriend.” He shouldn’t even be entertaining anything André had to say, but Gideon didn’t want doubts and questions to linger between them; there was already enough other shit at play.

“I don’t care.” André didn’t look at him. He definitely fucking cared, but Gideon didn’t call him on it.

Samir’s jaw ticked, gaze traveling back and forth between Gideon and André.

Fuck. Gideon shook his head and closed the distance between himself and André. Grabbing the other man’s arm, Gideon hauled him in close and murmured in his ear, “I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, for that matter. If you want to deny yourself what you really want, you’re gonna have to find another excuse.” He released André abruptly and stepped past him out the door.

He kept going without looking over his shoulder or slowing down. Samir would catch up soon enough. He forced André from his thoughts—a near impossibility—and instead tried focusing on Ree with a frown. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again after the way they’d left things the last time. So why was she back?

What did she want?

Samir caught up with him then and they walked shoulder to shoulder in silence toward Gideon’s office until Samir spoke.

“You’re fascinated by him.”

Well, he was. So Gideon didn’t bother denying the charge.

“You cannot afford to be distracted, G.”

“I’m not distracted.” Didn’t he already tell Samir that? Seems his friend didn’t buy it then and he didn’t buy it now.

“And you cannot get involved,” Samir continued as if Gideon hadn’t voiced that obviously false denial. “He has his purpose, and it does not include fucking you.”

Gideon bit back the angry retort that surged to the tip of his tongue. “Let’s not talk about André.” Because he didn’t want to hear what he couldn’t and shouldn’t do. Not when all of the arguments against it made sense. Not when all of it was true. “What does Ree want?”

Samir shrugged, slowing his footsteps as they arrived at Gideon’s office. “She didn’t say, just insisted she needed to talk to you and only you.” He jerked his chin at Marco, who stood outside the closed office door like a sentry, arms crossed. “I had him search her thoroughly for a wire or any recording devices. Or a gun, in case she came back to put a bullet in your ass for killing her father.”

Gideon scoffed. “She didn’t like him that much.” But Ree was fierce and a fighter. Had been even as a child. He’d always admired that about her. He blew out a breath. “All right, I’m going in alone.”

“The fuck you are,” Marco barked. “She could still do something?—”

“She won’t.” He probably shouldn’t be vouching for Ree, but he did. “Ree wouldn’t hurt me.” Without waiting for a response from either of the men who sometimes forgot they actually worked for him, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Closing the door softly, he leaned against it and smiled at Ree, who sat at the edge of his desk. “My people think you’re here to kill me.”

“Maybe I am.” She got off the desk and approached him slowly. Still short, dainty, and breakable in appearance, but her eyes told a different story. She’d been through some things. Maybe not as fucked up as Gideon, but she’d been tested all the same. “Payback for killing my father?”

He cocked his head. “Ree, why do you think I did that?”

“Funny, that’s what’s been bugging me, and it’s the first question I asked the guy who just appeared in my apartment last night.”

Gideon stiffened, eyes narrowed. “What guy?”

She shrugged. “Took a while to figure out why he was so familiar, but then it came to me.” She snapped her fingers. “Ennis Canto. You two run in the same circles, don’t you?”

What the fuck was Ennis playing at? “What did he want?”

“To confirm that you did kill my father. And to tell me you cannot be trusted.”

“And you believe him?”

“What does he have against you?” Ree asked instead. “Because clearly, if he came to me, he has an agenda.”

“Just a business deal,” he told her dismissively as he turned and opened the door. As he expected, Samir and Marco waited on the other side. “Marco, have Ree taken home. I want at least two men on her at all times.”

“Wait, what?” Ree grabbed his arm. “That’s not why I came here. I?—”

“It doesn’t matter why you came, Ree,” he said to her while holding Samir’s gaze. “Ennis Canto paid Ree a visit.”

Samir lifted an eyebrow. “A desperate move.”

Indeed. “Marco.”

Marco stepped in, taking Ree’s arm and holding tight as she tried to jerk away from him.

“Gideon, wait. Hey, don’t fucking touch me. I’m not done. Gideon!”

“Go with Marco, he’ll make sure you’re safe.” Gideon ignored her protests until Ree and Marco were out of sight. Samir joined him inside the office, closing the door.

“Going to Ree was a desperate move on his part.” Samir’s expression turned thoughtful. “We just might have him where we want him.”

They just might. “Let’s shift to the next stage of the plan. I want it executed tonight.”

Samir’s phone pinged and he fished it out of his pocket, lips curling at whatever he read on the screen. “Perfect timing.” He lifted his head, eyes flashing with that particular gleam he got whenever a plan was coming together. “The Council just called an emergency meeting.”

Gideon chuckled. “Perfect timing, indeed.”

All the members of The Council were present. Well, except for the dead ones. Prislaya’s seat was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long if The Council had its way.

Gideon sat in the seat his father once occupied, the one that rightfully belonged to him, with his arms folded as he waited. They’d called the meeting and he wanted to see what they had to say.

He didn’t bother looking at Ennis Canto. Just the sight of that motherfucker when he’d walked into the meeting had Gideon wanting to say fuck the plan and just toss a bomb into the building, wiping every-goddamn-body out.

His lips quirked.

That would definitely irritate Samir.

“Some troubling allegations have been brought to our attention.” Chinh Dang opened the meeting without the usual tedious ceremonial bullshit. She was a short woman, her brown bob laced liberally with gray, face unlined, gaze alert. If there was one person on The Council Gideon might be close to respecting, it would be her.

“Ennis.” Chinh motioned for him to speak, and so Ennis began.

“Prislaya and I were having dinner, as we do on occasion, since we’re old friends.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. Old friends was code for they used to fuck .

“The Winters ambushed us…”

This guy was like a fucking kid, tattling on his siblings because they didn’t include him in their shenanigans. Gideon’s fingers flexed. If he had his gun on him now, he would shoot that fucker just to shut him up.

He tuned out Ennis and found his mind drifting to the last place it should. Back to André’s bedroom, when it’d just been the two of them and André was fighting the pull between them.

Gideon should have been fighting that pull too, but it felt so easy, so natural. Nothing in his life had ever been that easy. Nothing. He knew what Samir said, and Gideon loved his friend for the warning and the reminder, but it still didn’t matter.

He still wanted André so much that it hurt to leave the house earlier without going to him and checking on him one last time.

Fuck. He scrubbed a hand over his face, returning to awareness just as Ennis got to the end of his sob story about Gideon shooting Prislaya.

Silence reverberated in the large room as everyone turned their gazes to Gideon. They hadn’t wanted him on the dais with them since he hadn’t been formally sworn in.

But did he give a fuck?

He was The Winters. He made the fucking rules; they just didn’t realize that shit yet.

But they would.

“Why are we sitting around, allowing this imposter to infiltrate our inner sanctum?—”

Gideon held a hand up, silencing Joseph Morrow before he could spew even more of his bullshit. “Nobody wants to hear you, Joe, so I’d keep your mouth shut if I were you.” Gideon didn’t even look at the old fucker. Instead, he gave Chinh Dang his focus. She hadn’t done anything to disrespect him or earn his ire…yet. “A warning was issued the first time I set foot in here. I told the members of this council I wasn’t easy to kill.” He smirked. “I mean, my presence here speaks for itself. My identity has been confirmed by the blood test you demanded, but still, two sitting members of this very council openly plotted my death.” He paused for effect. “Something we all know is punishable by death if proven.”

On cue, because he was just that good—and also because his people were magicians with technology—a conversation began playing over the conveniently placed hidden speakers. They were tiny, fitting in the palm of his hand, but they were powerful. The tech guys had told him where to place them in the room and he’d done so, discreetly.

Now, The Council had no choice but to listen to Ennis and Prislaya plot Gideon’s death.

He glanced down to where Ennis sat with a blank expression. The older man didn’t look at him, but if he had, Gideon would have saluted him.

For being so fucking stupid.

When the audio ended, Gideon got to his feet. “As is my right, I dealt with the threat Prislaya Chopra posed.”

“Yet Mister Canto is still with us.”

He didn’t know who said that, but Gideon nodded. “Yes. For now. I get to decide when I take my retribution.” He took a breath. “I am not my father. You will not make attempts on my life and continue to draw breath. I will end every fucking one of you and build a new council on top of your rotting corpses.” He took his time meeting the gaze of every single one of them, leaving Ennis for last, and when he held that bastard’s gaze, Gideon said, “I’m not in the habit of issuing warnings, but this is my last one: Come for me and you die.”

His last words rang out in the silence that followed until Chinh Dang said, “We must swear in Prislaya’s proxy and?—”

“No. That seat will remain empty for now.”

The room erupted in an argument that he ignored as he walked away. He didn’t give a fuck about them. He had his mission and he would see it through. No matter what.

Outside in the SUV, he sat and waited, watching all the members as they left. All of them angry, all of them cursing his name.

Except for Ennis. He had a different expression on his face—contemplation? Introspection?—as he climbed into his vehicle, flanked by his bodyguards.

“Make sure our people stay on him,” Gideon told Samir, who sat at his side. “I want to know where he goes and what he does tonight.”

Samir nodded.

“In the meantime…”

Samir grinned. “It’s done.” He handed Gideon a tablet. Joseph Morrow’s life was about to take a swift and sharp downturn. One his money and power couldn’t save him from. Gideon had made damn fucking sure of it.

He stared at the live feed playing out on the tablet. The video was from the helmet cam of one of the members of the SWAT team that had just raided Morrow’s country home. They’d been tipped off by Gideon. And those members were the unfortunate few who couldn’t be bribed—well, by anyone other than Gideon. But the only thing he wanted from them was for them to do their jobs the right way and by the book.

The judge who’d signed off on the no-knock warrant was in Gideon’s pocket, of course.

As he watched, the SWAT team reached the door hidden inside Morrow’s basement study behind a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. There were at least seven heavy-duty padlocks on that steel door and it took a while for them to get bolt cutters, but once they got the door open, it wasn’t hard to spot the young woman chained to the floor, sitting in her own filth.

Gideon breathed out a sigh of relief, eyes glued to the black-and-white footage as someone freed the girl, who hadn’t made one sound yet as far as Gideon could tell. She didn’t speak and didn’t fight when they carried her out of the room to safety.

She’d been in Morrow’s clutches for almost three years.

Something close to shame burned in Gideon’s chest, and he rubbed that spot with his free hand. He’d known about Nivea Arceneaux for a long time. His father had shared her fate with him. But instead of rescuing her then, they’d waited, factored her into the plan, and used her to bring down Joseph Morrow when the timing was just right.

For the first time, he wondered if the plan was as sound as he’d always thought it to be. For the first time, he wondered if he could deviate from it. He could have André. He could?—

Samir’s phone went off and he brought it to his ear, murmuring. He stiffened, then jerked his head up at Gideon.

“What?”

“Ennis Canto was just ambushed. He’s taking fire.”

What the— Gideon blinked. “What?”

“Our guys want to know if they should intervene.”

“Where are they? Let’s go!” he barked at the driver.

Samir got Ennis’s location from their people and shouted it to the driver. They were less than five minutes away. What the fuck was going on? He’d just been thinking about a deviation from the plan, but this wasn’t what he had in mind.

“Do they know who was behind it?” It wouldn’t be The Council. At least Gideon didn’t think so, which meant somebody else wanted Ennis dead.

Hell fucking no.

“Jack said it was two people on a motorcycle. They drove up alongside Ennis’s SUV and started firing. Ennis’s driver swerved and ran into a barricade. The car flipped.” Samir paused. “They can save Ennis or they can go after the shooters.”

“Goddamn it.” Gideon pounded a fist on his thigh. “I want the shooters. Tell them I want at least one of them alive. Mick,” he said, addressing his driver. “Get us to that scene. Now!”

“Yes, boss.”

Mick blew through all the red lights like a fucking pro, and when they arrived at the crash sight, Gideon hopped out of the vehicle without waiting for Mick to come to a complete stop.

“Shit!” Ennis’s SUV was on its side, shattered glass everywhere, smoking, riddled with bullet holes.

“G, stand back. Mick and I got this.”

He ignored Samir and took a step forward, but Samir grabbed him by the shoulder. “G. Listen to me. We’re exposed here. I need you to fall back. Let us handle this.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I can handle myself, and while we’re debating, Ennis is probably dying. We can’t let that happen.” That wasn’t part of the fucking plan!

Samir blew out a breath and dropped the subject. Gideon stood back long enough to watch Mick and Samir drag an unconscious Ennis out of the vehicle. Pulling out his phone, Gideon made some calls as Mick and Samir loaded Ennis into their SUV.

“The helicopter is waiting for us. Doc is on his way to the penthouse.”

The penthouse was about an hour away by helicopter and Ennis—Gideon allowed himself to take a good look at the older man as Mick drove them away from the scene, tires squealing—was soaked in blood.

“Everyone else is dead,” Samir told him, applying pressure to Ennis’s stomach. “He’s been hit three times. One in the stomach, one in the hand, and another in the chest.” Samir lifted his gaze to Gideon. “Don’t know if he’s gonna make it, G.”

“He fucking better.”