Chapter Seven

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A SHRILL RING REACHED into my sleep and clawed apart my dreams.

Not that I dreamt anything good. Just goddesses and diamonds and the endless pain of not taking the girl I wanted.

Another ring and I shot awake.

An echoing sound followed, just as piercing, just as annoying.

My cell phone vibrated across my bedside table, the screen lit up, its noise crashing the serenity.

Reaching for it, I fumbled to accept the call, groaning at the time.

Four a.m.

Another ear-splitting ring ricocheted even though the call had already connected, wrenching my attention behind me. Pika hopped across the spare pillow, screeching his head off, mimicking the ring—or trying to.

Caique parrots weren’t known for their vocalization skills. Their mischief, intelligence, and teenage sense of calamity, yes. But their ability to talk as easily as macaws or other feathered cousins, no. The fact that Pika knew a few words and figured out what context to use them was outstanding in and of itself. However, his imitation of a cell phone definitely wasn’t his forte.

“Sinclair? That you?” A man’s voice popped into my ear as I held the mobile close.

Pika let out another painful screech.

I lunged across the pillows, trying to grab his beak to shut him up. He just eyed me with rascal impishness and fluttered into the rafters.

Silence reigned again as I settled back on my bed, rubbing my eyes from haze. “Yeah, Sinclair speaking. Who’s this?”

“It’s Peter Beck, sir.”

“Peter.” I sat up, instantly alert. “Why are you calling me at four in the morning?” The darkness of my villa suddenly seemed full of threats. The heavy stillness of the tropical jungle oppressive outside. The ceiling fan above sent licks of cooler air, ensuring I could sleep with a sheet rather than totally naked.

I didn’t feel the heat much during the day—my body trained to accept a suit and not sweat. But at night, alone, I hated clothing. My flesh needed breeze and sea and freedom.

“Oh, it’s that early? I’m sorry. I forgot to check the time zones.”

“Everything okay with the lab? Nothing’s blown up, has it?” I wiped my mouth, stifling a yawn. Sleep no longer had a hold on me, but my body hadn’t quite caught up with my brain.

“Yes, it’s fine,” the head scientist said. “Our new trial with blending CBD oil with the other compound we were discussing last month is going better than expected. Results are showing significant reduction in cancer cells along with providing pain relief and anxiety suppression in one package.”

“Sounds promising.” When he didn’t continue, I added, “What’s the problem then?”

“It’s Mr. Sinclair, sir. Your, eh, brother.”

Instantly, a heavy scowl tipped my eyebrows down. “I know who Mr. Sinclair is. What’s he done now? He knows he’s not allowed in the building.”

“I know. But...he summoned a private board meeting the other month, unbeknownst to me. He managed to persuade a few members that you’re incapable for the position, no longer have time to spend on his parents’ company, and driving Sinclair and Sinclair Group into the ground with philanthropic work and far too cheap pharmaceuticals. Eh...he convinced a few of the members to accept his proposal that they allow him a lab of his own. To prove that he’s the better leader.” His voice lowered. “He basically means to overthrow you. To toss out the genius and replace with a savant. His words, sir, not mine.”

“He’s not a savant.” I swung my legs off the bed, wedging elbows into thighs and slouching. “However, if he wants to use that term, he’s welcome. After all, I’ve always wondered if he has a mental impairment. Brain damage could explain his behaviour, but it would be too easy. He’s just a liar and a bastard.” My hands curled. “I want him the fuck out of my building.”

“I’m fully aware. But...others have accepted his promises and are financing him behind your back.”

“Goddammit.” My legs bunched, soaring me upright. “The board don’t control my company’s assets. How can they—”

“They control access to labs and technicians if you’re not around to make an executive decision. They provided your brother with what he asked for because, for the first time, he didn’t come sniffing for cash.”

“Yeah, and that’s the terrifying part.”

Even with untold millions from his inheritance, Drake Sinclair seemed to have fingers that coins rapidly spilled out of, whereas I’d taken a slap in the face and turned it into an empire.

An empire that wouldn’t give him a shit-covered penny.

Peter Beck stayed silent, letting my mind whir in peace. My brother had always been a spoiled asshole. The moment I was born, I saw him for what he was. A soulless, cruel, despicable excuse for a human who managed to use reptilian grace and falsehood to con my parents into thinking he was angelic.

His halo had always been blackened, but it didn’t stop them from thinking he hung the moon and stars, while I was the sweeper in the shadows, cleaning up his messes.

When we were younger, if our parents had been in the room, he let me play with his toys, hang with his friends, hugged me like a brother. But the moment they left...fuck me, it’d been a totally different story.

I’d been known as a ‘clumsy’ kid. Breaking bones, ruining clothing, losing belongings. What they didn’t know was, it wasn’t clumsiness causing my pain and unhappiness, but the boy I shared DNA with. A son five years older than me and utterly malicious.

He’d been the catalyst for my first tragedy. The constant devil in the wings, taking anything I loved and destroying it.

“My hands are tied, sir, I’ve tried calling another board meeting to refresh company policy and remind them that you are still very much at the helm, even if you live in Java. But...well, my summons went unheeded.” He sighed heavily. “There isn’t much more I can do without having you personally here.”

“If I visit, I won’t be kind. I won’t be forgiving.” My voice frosted with ruthlessness. “If the board makes me physically appear, their lesson won’t be gentle.” I shrugged, doing my best to roll out the vicious tension in my shoulders. “I’ll fire them and blacklist them from ever working on a board again. I won’t accept any excuses. Back my brother and you’re dead to me.”

“I did try to warn them, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Don’t call me that. Not while my brother holds the same title.” I raked a hand through my hair, my mind already on a plane going to defend my dominion from infidels. “Give me twenty-four hours. I’ll make my brother realise the error of his ways.”

Vengeance would never be so sweet.

I hung up and instantly called another number while striding toward the bathroom. The open air space didn’t look out into a private garden like most of the villas along the ocean did. My personal home didn’t share the beach with goddesses. Instead, it was tucked away in the fronds of huge palms, jackfruit trees, and lime bushes. Heliconias and orchids added colour, enticing birds and butterflies. But it wasn’t the flora and fauna that ensured I’d built my villa inland instead of coastal...it’d been the waterfall.

Nirvana splashed constant and majestic, the perfect backdrop to my shower. Most of the time, I just bathed in the basin formed by the splashing falls. This morning, however, I had no time to waste.

Cal answered on the third ring. His voice catching with a sleep-filled croak. “Sir?”

“Book me a flight to San Diego. Leaving immediately. Charter a flight from Jakarta if you need.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yes, right now.” I rolled my eyes. “Do it.”

“Why are you going to Sinclair and Sinclair? Just communicate online like—”

“Cal, we’re friends, so I permit such liberties, but don’t mistake our dynamics when I ask you to do something. I need a flight. So book me a goddamn flight.”

“It’s because we’re friends that I’m asking.” His voice hardened. “The only reason you’d be leaving is if your brother—”

“For fuck’s sake, I’ll handle it.”

“Ah, shit. Drake’s being a cunt again.” He didn’t ask it as a question. Just a statement, followed by his unwavering loyalty. “I’m going with you.”

“Like fuck you are.” Throwing my toothbrush and other toiletries into a bag, I quickly stormed to my walk-in wardrobe and tossed shirts, shoes, and suits onto the rattan chaise lounge in the centre, working out what I’d need.

Something that said ‘I’m done with your bullshit.’

Something that screamed cold-hearted murder and could hide bloodstains. Lots of bloodstains.

“Last time you had a run-in with Drake, you—”

“It won’t happen again. I’m just going for a friendly chat.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’re staying here.”

“Not if you’re going.”

“I need you to run Euphoria. To welcome the guests. To keep the goddesses safe.”

To keep Eleanor from other men. To protect her. To keep her on my shores.

“I’ll get Arbi to do that. He’s aware of the requirements of this place. I trust him.”

“I don’t.” I zipped up the army green duffel, uncaring that priceless suits were scrunched and stuffed in its depths. “You’re staying. I’m leaving. Call the pilots. I want to be airborne in thirty minutes.”

* * * * *

My fingertips pressed against the helicopter’s windows as the sky traded smoky dimness for coral spiels of dawn. Soft coral deepened to glowing scarlet, quickly losing its crimson in favour of golden sun.

We descended from sky to tarmac, landing at the congested airport of Jakarta.

Cal had arranged a private plane to get me to Manila, Philippines, before connecting with a first-class fare to Los Angeles and another private flight to San Diego. A diabolical mess of a journey.

I didn’t like visiting overpopulated cities. However, my other reason for not travelling much these days was it took so fucking long. Next thing I’d look at improving on would be air transportation.

There had to be a better way.

A faster way.

A teleport would be best.

It’d popped into my head as a joke but so had VR to start with. I’d had a kinky dream about a man stepping into a chamber where he could become anything he wanted and fuck whoever he desired.

That fantasy had become a reality.

Perhaps teleporting remained impossible, but it wouldn’t hurt to investigate other outlandish possibilities.

Unbuckling the five-point harness, I waited for the pilot to slide the fuselage open before hopping onto the already steaming tarmac. The sun had barely risen, yet the temperature on the black ground surrounding the hangars and airstrip pumped out heat.

I’d miss the mugginess—the tropical warmth that acted like a physical entity instead of an unseen element.

“This way, sir.” The co-pilot beckoned me to follow him. We didn’t have far to walk from one landing pad to another where a sleek silver jet waited.

I nodded in thanks and climbed the steps into the cream leather, chocolate piped interior. I hid my cringe. The thought of sitting on a cured animal hide repulsed me. I’d much rather pineapple leather or any of the other alternatives available these days, but society were slow to accept change, and the rich didn’t give a fuck.

A hostess in a matching uniform approached with an icy hand towel and a dewy bottle of water. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Thank you.” I pinned on a thin smile and sat in the oily embrace of a dead cow. Accepting the towel, I fanned it out and wiped my hands.

“We’re just waiting on final approval from the tower. Be ten to fifteen minutes before we can depart.” She bowed, her black hair tied neatly in a bun. “I apologise for the delay.”

“It’s fine.” Grabbing my laptop from my bag, I cracked open the screen, ready to draft an email giving the board one last chance. If they evicted my brother from my building, they could keep their jobs...and their heads. They had precisely three hours until I landed in Manila to comply. If they didn’t...well, I’d be in the market for a new board and possibly a burial site to farewell my brother.

I was no longer a runty kid who had no support or strength. Drake would no longer win against me. He hadn’t in a long time.

The helicopter co-pilot appeared with my duffel, smiling as he placed the bag on the chair next to me. “Safe travels, sir. We’ll look forward to your speedy return.”

“Appreciate the fast response getting me here.”

“Always.” His footsteps sounded on the aircraft steps as I returned my attention to a very strongly worded email. The hostess had vanished into the cockpit, and I soaked up the silence of being alone.

My thoughts left the realm of work and murder, settling back on my island, trespassing on a villa where a certain dangerous girl lay.

Eleanor would still be sleeping.

She would wake and wouldn’t be any wiser that I was no longer there to torment her.

The distance would be good for us. Cal would be there to keep any threats at bay. I could return to my life before she’d scrambled it.

She was due to serve in Euphoria in three days.

The travel alone would take me two days—there and back. That left me twenty-four hours to deal with this catastrophe and return. To interrogate the man who would be next to sample my greatest goddess. To slip elixir down her gorgeous throat and curse myself all over again.

Cal had strict instructions to watch her. To be gentle but firm.

I didn’t like it.

I hated the crawling sensation under my suit, whispering that I should’ve brought her with me. I should keep her close in case something happened. But that was fucking ridiculous. Jinx belonged to me just like the food prepared in my restaurants and the staff who cultivated my gardens.

I didn’t need to constantly monitor her existence.

She was mine.

Therefore, she was safe.

Cricking my neck, I scowled at the screen and a few measly lines of text. How the hell did I word an email that demanded my brother be evicted and any of his requests denied without sounding like a whingey kid with a bad case of sibling rivalry?

Shit.

Footsteps sounded on the aircraft steps again, wrenching my head up.

I’d hoped the arrival was the airplane pilot, given approval from the tower to taxi to our departure point.

My heart stopped.

Sub-zero temperatures turned my blood to ice. “Calvin.” My voice did nothing to show my seething displeasure. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I got a ride after you.” He lugged a bag over his shoulder, moving down the aisles to fall into a chair in front of mine, then turned to look over the headrest. “Not letting you deal with that cunt on your own.”

“I wanted you to take care of my investments.” My teeth ground together, turning my words to dust. “You can’t do that if you’re not there, dipshit.”

“Arbi has it under control. They’ll be fine. The girls know their schedule for Euphoria. Jealousy will help prepare them. You have a loyal, capable team, Sinclair. They can handle us gone for a few days.”

“That wasn’t the god. Damn. Point.”

Eleanor.

She was still too new. Too flighty. Too aware of her imprisonment.

Without a daily reminder that there was no chance of escape...it would become a temptation too great to ignore.

I’d give her forty-eight hours before she attempted a freedom expedition.

She’d leave.

She’d fail.

And I wouldn’t be there to save her.

Or to drag her back.