25
Victor
After a boisterous dinner, Victor and his brothers had a small argument about who was going to pay the bill. Victor slipped the waitress a credit card as Linc, Luc, and Xander fought for the tab. When she came back for his signature, they went silent and looked at him as if he’d committed some nefarious act of treachery behind their backs. Victor sighed, overwhelmed by the overdose of testosterone. He couldn’t wait to get home to his wife. Unfortunately, he had other business.
He dialed Kena’s number. “Tell Naomi that I’m ready,” he said into the phone when she answered.
When she agreed, he disconnected the call.
“How worried are you about this investigation into your PAC funds?” his dad asked.
“I’m not very worried about the outcome of the investigation, but I have to admit, I’m concerned about its effect on my campaign.”
Victor Sr. slapped him on the back. “I can make some calls, son.”
“No, Dad. Let me handle it.”
“Okay, son,” he agreed with a nod. “If I need to step in, you let me know.”
No matter how old or powerful Victor became, his father had a way of making him feel like a little boy again.
“If I need your help, Dad, I’ll definitely let you know.”
“Be sure.” Victor Sr. reached to shake his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Victor assured, shaking his father’s hand.
When he turned to his brothers for a proper goodbye, Lincoln whisked their father away. The two of them were huddled in conversation. After the way he snapped at him before, Victor wouldn’t dare to inquire about the topic.
Lincoln was in a mood for sure. He didn’t know why, but what he did know was that he was ready to snatch him by the collar and drag his ass across the restaurant. He made a mental note to have a conversation with his little brother later when he’d calmed down. He suspected that his rotten disposition had something to do with his latest mission, but he wasn’t sure.
After more goodbyes, Victor hugged his father and kissed his cheek before following Gregor out of the restaurant to their awaiting vehicle. After about thirty minutes, his small caravan was pulling into a short driveway that led to a tall iron gate with a large iron “S”fashioned in the metal. The first car in his security detail stopped just before the gate and had words with a guard that emerged from a guard shack.
“The Storms have more security than I do,” Victor chortled.
“Not quite,” Gregor refuted dryly.
“What’s with everybody and their shitty attitudes? I’m the one about to be indicted.”
“Yeah, sure,” Gregor scoffed. “I got a better chance of winning American Idol.”
Victor laughed. It was rare for Gregor to joke. So, when he did, it didn’t necessarily have to be funny to make him laugh. The stern giant’s attempt at humor was funny in itself.
When the gate opened, they moved forward down a long road lined with plants and trees. About a half-mile down the road, they curved right. The curved path ran alongside a perfectly manicured lawn.
They rounded the curve and pulled up in front of the Storms’ magnificent estate.
“Please, Governor, stay here,” Gregor insisted.
Victor remained inside. Not too long ago, he’d made a promise to Gregor, and Taylor, to let him do his job, which was to protect him.
Gregor dispatched his security detail to various points on the property, and less than a minute later, Gregor returned and opened the door for him.
He stepped out and followed his bodyguard up the marble walkway and steps. The front door was already open, but it wasn’t Jack that awaited. It was an elderly Caucasian woman with frowning, bright red lips. In her arms was a tiny Jack lookalike with slightly darker skin.
Victor smiled. A vision of what his son or daughter would look like flashed in his mind.
When the woman’s gaze switched from Rory, a member of his security detail, to him, her blue eyes lit up and her frown instantly shifted.
