given in—and they had filmed him. Hypocritical little bitches. They took the money and the gifts, they guzzled the champagne and snorted the coke, and then, oh poor me! I was exploited!
But Louisa hadn’t seen it that way when Erasma showed her the video.
Now Louisa had Erasma’s fucking flash drive. Of course, she’d run to her cop friend, Willis. Gil had to move fast to shut that down. He tried to shut down Louisa, too, but the bitch had surprised him. She’d evaded the professional he’d sent. She’d gotten away with the flash drive. The only thing that had saved his ass was a surprise visit from his brother-in-law, Josh. Perfectly timed. Destiny’s kiss.
Holding her precious brother over Louisa’s head had kept her in line so far, but this death grip was exhausting. And Shel was getting restless. Something had to give.
He’d played his role masterfully. The heartbroken husband. The dedicated and driven DA. Nothing, not even personal tragedy, would stop Gil Clemens’ crusade for justice, law and order. He would follow that crusade all the way to the top. From DA to governor. Then senator. Maybe attorney general. And then, eventually…president.
Strange how his instincts had failed him in regards to Louisa. He’d thought she was docile. Easy to mold, once he cured her of her childish fits about her art hobby.
She’d tricked him. Tried to destroy him. She deserved to be punished. His games with Shel’s whore had taught him how much fun sharp discipline could be.
He could develop a taste for that. Making them whimper and squeal.
But Sheldon was devolving. Two hundred billion dollars was a superpower, but not if the man fried his own brain.
“…waited long enough to get this mess cleaned up!” Shel was complaining. “Nail that bitch to the wall, Gil! Do you need more personnel to get the job done?”
“I’m good,” Gil said. “Everything’s under control.”
“I have a whole army on retainer, you know. I’ll give you one more week, Gil. Get it handled. And send me pictures, to show me that it’s done.”
“The next time we talk, I will have news,” Gil promised.
“You’d better.” Gil heard Shel’s ice cubes rattle as he glugged his drink. “It’s expensive, owning a pet DA.” His voice was smug and oily. “Earn your fucking keep.”
“I will.” Gil waited for Shel to hang up. He was in no position to hang up first.
One of his most urgent life goals was to be able to hang up on that prick. Better yet, to choke the life out of him. Shel was a worthless playboy, already on track to die young, but it would be fun to hurry the process along. He could get drunk and fall off his yacht. Or auto-asphyxiate himself in a sex game with his whores. The possibilities were endless.
Josh’s game soundtrack was annoying the shit out of him. Josh had no access to a phone or a router, and was allowed only single-player games, but the music drove Gil nuts. “Enough gaming,” he told Josh. “Go to bed. I’m sick of listening to it.”
Josh didn’t turn. “One minute.” His voice was flat and dead. “Let me level up.
Mouthy little shithead. Gil had nothing left to gain from pretending to be friendly with his brother-in-law. But Josh still hadn’t gotten the memo.
“Belker,” he said to the guard who sat near the couch. “Explain to Josh the importance of doing what the fuck he’s told.”
Belker stood. He was a barrel-shaped guy with a squashed looking face. He pulled a black club off his weapons belt and sauntered toward Josh, smacking the club against his big, leathery palm, smiling widely. Belker liked his job.
Josh looked at Belker, then at Gil. The younger man’s face was mottled with bruises, some fresh, some older and yellowed. Nineteen-year-old Josh had finally grasped the depth of the trouble he was in, which made it too dangerous for Gil to display him in public.
No more interviews for Joshie. No reason to hold back on the punishment. Sometimes it was refreshing, to just let people know exactly who was in control.
“Go to bed, you fucking freak,” Gil said icily. “Or I’ll have him beat you again.”
Josh’s hollow eyes lingered on the club in Belker’s hand. Smack. Smack. Smack.
Belker’s eyes were bright with anticipation. Gil found himself hoping Josh would rebel. In his current mood, the spectacle would be a pleasure to watch.
But Josh got up, moving as stiffly as an old man. He turned toward the stairs.
“Take a goddamn shower before you come down