Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone Page 0,19

it didn’t have anything to do with their concerns. A nagging had formed in the back of my mind, the fact a car had almost killed Sophia something that remained in the dark reaches. I wasn’t the kind of man who believed in coincidences, especially since I’d been able to grab a single look at the license plate.

Diplomatic.

“You haven’t seen pictures of your Lexus, brother. You are damn lucky you escaped with only minor injuries.”

“Nothing insurance can’t pay for,” I said absently, angry with myself for being distracted.

“I even dropped by your place last night. Thought you might be hungry. Funny that you weren’t there. Now, I had to ask myself since you certainly weren’t working in the club where you could possibly be. No girlfriend. No friends to speak of that your surly ass enjoys spending time with so...” Christopher said, winking.

“We were thinking you might have indulged in the sexy doctor who cared for you,” Gregory finished, both of them laughing.

When I didn’t honor their bullshit with an answer, they both glanced at me, Gregory snickering.

“You old dog, you. You did see her. Didn’t you? And here I thought you’d remain a lonely bachelor your entire life.” Gregory’s damn eyes twinkled.

I simply gave them both my middle finger. “What goes on at the club we discuss. What happens in my personal life is something else entirely.”

“You like this girl,” Christopher said with a sharp whistle.

“Leave him be, brother,” Gregory directed as he glanced toward the unopened box before inching closer. “Besides, we do have business to discuss.”

“Would that be Prince Amoundi?” I asked before moving to standing position.

“You must have had a conversation with him.”

I glanced at my brother, grateful that he’d actually found the love of his life. It had tempered his nasty attitude and penchant for violence. Christopher was another story. “Unfortunately, so. The man decided that threatening me would be the best objective to getting what he wanted.”

Easy to see they were both uncomfortable, I inched toward the box. The lack of a return address was disconcerting, the simple label with my name and the club’s address printed on a typical laser jet printer owned by almost every business in the damn city. Whatever was inside I had a feeling would piss me off.

“The ledger,” Christopher hissed. “I’m beginning to think that continuing to try and find out its location isn’t in our best interest.”

“The ledger is only a portion of the reason the club had maintained its powerful aura, Chris, and you know that.” I lifted the box gingerly, surprised there was no real weight to it.

“The lure of generating business while enjoying a kinky show, beverage of choice in hand is a powerful draw,” Gregory added. “However, I tend to agree with Christopher. If our father and grandfather kept more destructive secrets than we were led to believe, maybe we need to consider changing our tactics.”

“We’ve had this discussion before.” I glanced from Christopher to Gregory, whom had heard more regarding the past than our younger brother. “The legacy that was left to us includes enemies that go back decades, some who have been biding their time. However, I assure you that they aren’t going to play their hand until they are ready. As you know, the shift of power we’ve seen coming for months is in process. Lots of people are worried that information leaking from the ledger, as well as what they’ve shared since we took control will eradicate their future potentials.”

Gregory laughed. “In other words, the politicians, lawmakers, and wealthy influencers are prepared to do whatever it takes to keep their secrets locked away.”

“Exactly,” I said quietly. “Which means that getting our hands on the ledger should be our top priority.”

“I don’t understand why the family attorney has no freaking clue where the hell it is,” Christopher chided.

I carried the box to my desk, easing it down on the surface. While I didn’t anticipate a ticking time bomb, I wasn’t taking any chances at this point. “Mr. Rappaport refused to be privy to any illegal information. At least that’s what he’s told me on more than one occasion.” William Rappaport had handled both the personal and corporate business for our father for years, the men becoming close friends. I’d always had an admiration for his loyalty while attempting to keep our father from skating too far over the line of right and wrong.

“But you don’t believe him,” Gregory mused.

“Let’s just say I think our father realized early on that his