I follow her toward the entrance, Sami already quickening his pace. His small feet know these steps. This is his world. When we reach the building's entrance, Nadiyah opens the door and holds it for me.
Sami slips past us both and starts racing up the main stairs of the gloomy foyer, comfortable. Home.
I step through the doorway, past Nadiyah into the musty-smelling vestibule. The door closes behind me with a squeal of metal hinges.
"This way… Avery," Nadiyah says with a pleasant smile, directing me toward the steps.
34
NICK
"You wanted the fullpicture on the Roths and Xaviers," Beck says. "This is what I've got."
He removes several documents from a manila folder and lays them out on my desk, then leans back in the leather chair across from me. I've known him long enough to read his carefully neutral expression. It's the one he reserves for conversations he knows will cut.
I nod at the sheet bearing my cousin's name and data. "Start with Sebastian."
Beck pulls a summary sheet from the stack, scanning it even though I know he's already memorized every detail. "Sebastian Elliot Roth. Thirty-two. CEO of Roth Hospitality International. Luxury hotels, resorts, private clubs. Headquarters in Manhattan, properties on six continents." He glances up. "His personal holdings are well north of nine billion. Maybe pushing ten, depending on how you value the real estate portfolio."
I feel my brows rise despite my determination to remain unimpressed by the smooth bastard I met at the gala two nights ago.
I built Baine International from nothing, without help from anyone—least of all a deep-pocketed, obviously well-connected family like the Roths or Xaviers. My net worth hovers around four billion now and growing every quarter. Respectable. Powerful. The kind of money that commands attention in any room I enter.
Sebastian Roth was born into nearly three times that.
"As for the Roths in general," Beck continues, reading my silence correctly. "The family fortune sits somewhere between thirty-five and forty billion. The brand controls luxury hotels in the States and abroad, other global real estate, land holdings, licensing deals going back five generations on the father's side. Old money layered on top of older money."
I grunt, taking a sip of the coffee that's gone cold on my desk. "I'm familiar with the brand, of course. The Roth name is plastered on some of the best properties around the world. They're anything but subtle."
Beck shrugs. "They all put their pants on one leg at time. Theirs is just a different kind of empire, that's all. You built yours. Concentrated. Liquid. Every decision runs through you because you made it that way. Sebastian inherited a machine that prints permanence. Trust distributions, equity stakes, board seats that were waiting for him before he could walk." He pauses. "But I'll give the bastard this—he sharpened what he was handed. Expanded the hotel division by forty percent in five years. Took the family into markets his father thought were beneath them."
For all the ways he's been a competitive pain in my ass over the past couple of years, I have to admit I feel some degree of respect for him. Sebastian didn't coast. He took what he was given and made it more. That requires a certain ruthlessness I recognize, even share, with my cousin.
"The business rivalry," I say. "He says he's known we're related for about five years now. Any idea how long has he been circling me from a professional standpoint?"
"About three-plus years that I can trace." Beck ticks off the encounters on his fingers. "Dubai—the Al-Hassan property. You won, but he drove the price up by eight figures before he backed off. And that chunk of Amalfi coast you wanted eighteen months ago? He sniped it out from under you, then flipped it to a resort developer for a thirty percent premium." A slight smile. "And most recently, there was his attempt to outbid you for theElysium."
My jaw tightens at the reminder. The stunning sailing yacht I bought for Avery. The wedding gift she doesn't know about yet.
"I might've had to kill the sonofabitch if he'd snatched that yacht from me."
Beck chuckles, low under his breath. "I'm starting to think that was less about acquiring another toy and more about taking your measure. He's been watching you, Nick. Trying to see what you're made of."
Because he knew. The entire time we were competing for properties and positioning, Sebastian Roth knew we shared a grandmother. Knew my mother was his mother's sister. He knew I had family practically living right under my nose and said nothing.
My family situation has required careful navigation.
That's what he said to me at the gala. I'd assumed they were meant as some kind of deflection at the time. Now they land differently.
My phone buzzes with a text, pulling my attention. I glance at it, expecting to see Avery's number, but it's not her. She left the penthouse this morning to drop art supplies at the rec center—some sketchbooks and pencils she'd forgotten in her trunk before our trip to the Keys. She should be finished by now, andoff to the half-dozen other items she said she wanted to tackle today before meeting me here for lunch.
The thought of her cuts through the cold analysis I've wrapped around this conversation. I can still feel her lips on mine as she kissed me on her way out this morning, her hand resting against my jaw. Hours later, the ghost of that touch is still warm against my skin.
"Shall we move on to the rest of the family?" Beck asks.
At my nod, he pulls another sheet from the folder. "Four siblings total. Sebastian is the second child."
"Start with the eldest."
