Free Novel Read

East End: The Hear No Evil Trilogy, Book 1 Page 4

At the time I'd made that vow, it had been one of those things that you say but you only sort of mean. But now that I was a grown adult, had skills, power, and money, I meant it in a very real sense.

  Bored, I sighed and raised my paddle before speaking clearly. "£200,000."

  A hush fell over the auction. Jameson turned back to me, sneering once more, and I met his gaze, giving him a smug grin. He scowled and put his paddle down. "Yeah, that's right, you git." I mumbled to myself. “I won this time.”

  It went on like that for the remainder of the auction. Me bidding on pieces I did not want merely for the joy of making him bid over his likely maximum. Driving up the price, sitting back in mock disappointment when I would lose out on pieces. Nodding in acquiescence as he got overly priced garbage.

  One day, you really do need to grow up.

  Yes, one day. Just not fucking today.

  When it got to the pieces that I was there for specifically for our family collection, my bidding was modest but well within range. I knew exactly what they were worth and this time, I wasn't playing with my money. I was playing with Du Mont money. Of which my mother, being the last in the line of Du Monts, had plenty.

  But I also knew she was very particular about her art. What she was and was not willing to spend on. There would be some pieces that would be kept in our family vault and some that would be on display in the museum in Monaco. When one of those came on the auction block, Jameson raised his paddle, throwing out the maximum sum my mother was willing to pay. I frowned. That son of a bitch. My palm itched to raise the paddle and force the price up.

  Not your money. Stop it.

  No, it wasn't my money, but what if I supplemented it?

  Stop it. You’ve already spent £500,000 today. Don't be ridiculous.

  That money was a drop in the bucket, honestly. But considering I hadn't intended to spend it when I’d left my penthouse earlier, it probably said something about how I felt about Garreth Jameson.

  I kept my paddle down.

  Jameson turned, his brows lifted in surprise. I shrugged, indicating, 'Well, you win some, you lose some.' I knew for a fact that he would try and offload the piece soon. The Jameson family had a reputable art collection of their own, but it was nothing like that of the Du Monts. This piece certainly wasn't going to fit, and since his father controlled the collection, the old man would be livid about his purchase.

  I acquired the other two pieces below our maximum price, which I could be happy about, and my mother would be thrilled. I was just sending a text to AJ after the auction and had gone to arrange for delivery when Jameson approached. "Oh, tough one today. I didn't think that the Hales stooped to turning up in person to do their own auctions."

  "And what are you doing here? You could easily have had a representative do it."

  "Since I am a bit of an artist myself, I like to see the pieces personally. I'm not a pretender, you know?"

  I raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, I didn't realize you were still painting. I thought after, you know, that forgery thing that you got caught up in, you’d stopped."

  His brows snapped down. There had been a forgery scandal some years ago. Paintings by a moderately unknown artist, complete with authenticity paperwork, had started floating around. Each piece not going for any more than £10,000, which is really what they were worth. But there were murmurings, rumblings, that they were forgeries.

  They weren't really worth paying attention to, but I remembered the scandal for the Jameson family because Garreth had been caught in the fray as having some mild acquaintance with the forgers. Those in tighter circles had murmured that he had forged some pieces himself.

  While a talented painter, he lacked imagination in his own work, but he had the skill to copy well enough. It was a skill that, in and of itself, was amazing. He just lacked vision.

  He nodded, giving me that standard rich-git smile. How many times had I given that smile? The one that we were all bred to give. The one we were all taught. We learned it by watching our fathers do it in social situations. Ninety percent smugness, five percent disdain, and five percent contempt. It made my hands itch to hit him.

  "Well, congratulations," he muttered.

  I nodded. "Congratulations to you too. I didn't think the Elise would fit your collection from what I've known of it, but way to branch out. Good for you."

  Even though that smug smile remained in place, I could see the slight furrow of his brow. He was not good at hiding his emotions.

  As I turned to leave, he said, "It’s been a long time since I've seen AJ. She was one of my favorite people.”

  Time stopped as my brain locked into the fact that he had the nerve to speak my sister’s name after what he did to her.

  I might not be able to use my burn against another member of the Elite, but I could certainly throttle this worthless wanker.

  A burn was a complete social, financial, personal annihilation of someone. And no matter what, another member of the Elite couldn’t save them. Short of murder, you could do anything to ruin them. We each were inducted with one burn available to us. But Elite members were exempt from a burn.

  I took a step toward him, and then I felt a soft hand on my arm. My gaze flickered to the right, Charlotte Bryce, the auction director, smiled up at me. "Mr. Hale, if you would just come with me, I have arranged for delivery of your pieces. Just tell me which ones go where."

  I settled my gaze back to Jameson, and he gave me a head nod, though smugness and malice were reflected in his eyes as I said, "I'll be seeing you again, mate."

  He grinned. "Yeah, you certainly will."

  What was supposed to happen was that I turn and follow Charlotte, but my brain was having none of that. Instead I indulged in the fantasy of beating the snot out of him, right there. From our years in the Elite, I knew hand to hand wasn’t his specialty. He’d rather taken to fencing.

  I could take him.

  I could. I really could. But I needed to get my shit under control. Vengeance would be much sweeter if I made him squirm first. So, I forced myself to unclench my fists, then I turned and walked away.

  Jameson might think he'd won that round, but we were coming for him. He had a lot to answer for.

  East

  To catch a thief, you needed to be a thief. Prince Lucas of the Winston Isles had taught me that.

  So for the evening, amongst the glitz and glamour, I was exactly that. International thief. No, international spy. A regular James Bond.

  You wish.

  “East? Mate, are you focused?”

  I frowned as Ben’s voice pinged in my earpiece. “Hush, I know what I’m doing.”

  Bridge’s voice was wry. “Are you sure about that? Maybe we should ask your last girlfriend.”

  I bit back my scowl as I took a sip of the champagne. “Would you two knobs shut it so I can get this done?”

  Bridge’s chuckle was low. “You know, I quite like being the one in the van. This is easy. Twist a few knobs, glance at a few monitors. Why are you always whining about how it’s not easy to be in the van?”

  “I swear to God, Bridge, if you touch any of my shit, I will kill you.” I loved my mates, but my gear, those computers… They were like my children.

  “Oh relax, I’m not going to break your precious machines.”

  Ben’s voice was gruff. “Both of you, focus. The sooner this is done, the sooner we all get to move on.”

  I placed my champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter. It was showtime.

  We’d all drawn straws as to who would be next in line to deal with the Elite, the one to deal the next blow. It was between Drew and me. And as Drew wasn’t attending the gala tonight on account of fatherhood duties, where both Jameson and Middleton would be, I was the lucky git.

  When we were barely more than kids, we’d all joined the fastest path to fortune and power. Some of us had to learn hard lessons along that path.

  For starters, the three of us, the London Lords, could have made it without
the Elite. Membership had its benefits, but we’d been determined not to use those benefits if we could help it. They came with too many strings.

  To make matters worse, our so-called brothers were behind the death of our friend. So, tonight was about payback. And she was one hell of a feisty bitch.

  The aim was to clone their phones. Once we could listen in, we’d get leverage. And once we had leverage… It was game over for them. Ben, as Director Prime, needed to be above reproach. And someone needed to be in the van to make sure the data came through. Someone also needed to be able to handle the coding tech if it glitched. We’d already tried this once, and not only did it not work that time, but it had taken way too long. So we were using a new tech now. One that required me, someone a little more technologically savvy, to make it happen.

  “Just get it done, East. It’s easy. You plant the device, remove it after five minutes, then do it again.”

  “I notice you’re not the one doing the switch.”

  I adjusted my cufflinks peeking out of the sleeves of my Tom Ford tuxedo. The Bridgeport Hospital Charity Gala was a yearly event. All members of the Elite attended, and the guest list was a who’s-who of London society, as well as some of the rich and famous worldwide. It was the charity of all charities to be seen at. Everyone wanted their name on the placard to say they supported whatever the hell the cause was this week.

  Not actually because they cared, but because they wanted the ability to preen and show off.

  And I hated the lot of them.

  “We have incoming.”

  I stilled while trying to look nonchalant. “What’s the problem?”

  Ben muttered, “Your father is coming straight for you on your five o’clock.”

  I swallowed my groan but still headed for my mark. I would deal with the old man later. Now was not the time. “Yeah, fine.” I picked my route. One that seemed unintentional as I deftly avoided him in the crowd.

  I twirled around a waiter here and sidestepped a socialite there. A smile and a dancing flirt with a model across the way. By the time I made it to Garreth, he was speaking to a tall brunette woman. She had a wide smile and a familiar look to her. I knew her from somewhere.

  Garreth’s grin was on me. “Hale, twice in one day? I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. Enjoying yourself?”

  That was the thing about the Elite. You could spend your entire life loathing people, and some of them still thought you liked them, despite the undercurrent of hatred. The overt kind where you traded barbs and attempted stabbings, and the subtle kind, where you were both aware of your mutual loathing but kept most of it internal. And then there was the covert form, where one of you loathed the other, but the other was utterly clueless.

  Jameson and I were the overt kind. But in public, we could pretend to be gentlemen. “Jameson.” He took my hand to shake.

  Play the part. Act the part. Be the part.

  I could not kill the man in a room full of people.

  To most of the people in this room, I was one of them. Son of Lord Richard Hale. Cream of the Elite crop. A member of my family had been part of the Elite since the beginning. Outsiders assumed that I was entrenched in it. But truth be told, I hated the Elite just as much as Ben did. Just as much as Bridge did. We each had our reasons. “Yeah, mate, good, good. Just making the rounds.”

  As we chatted amiably, I felt the prickle of awareness. My father was coming. I needed to get this done quickly. I turned to the brunette. “I see you have beautiful company this evening.”

  Her smile was sardonic. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  In my ear, Bridge chuckled. “What? A woman has left your bed unsatisfied, East? Say it isn’t so.”

  When I was out of this stupid party, I was going to throttle him. “I am so sorry. I don’t remember you.”

  The thing was, I knew exactly who had been in my bed. I selected women who met specific criteria. I knew them all. Every single thing about them. And no, I wasn’t a stalker. I just liked to know who I had around me. It took only one time of being lacerated to learn a lesson, and I had no intention of learning that particular lesson again.

  “I’m Janina Harrison. We met at the Wescott Benefit a few months ago. You never did call me.”

  Christ. “Oh my goodness, Janina.” I had no idea who she was, but I knew enough to play the part. “You will have to forgive me. Of course, I intended to call. But… business. We were opening a new hotel. I was focused on that. But I am more than happy to call you this time.”

  She lifted an elegant brow. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

  Jameson gave a hearty laugh. “Looks like she has your number, Hale.”

  What I needed was for her to ask for someone else’s number and leave me alone so I could plant the fucking device.

  From behind me, I could hear my father talking to someone.

  I needed to do this quickly because talking to my father would be its own special kind of headache.

  As a waiter passed, I held my breath and waited for just the right timing, then I deliberately stuck out my foot in a quick manner. He jostled his tray and saved the half drinks, but then one toppled and splashed Janina.

  Her squeal was immediate. “Oh my God, watch where you’re going.”

  I offered a silent apology to the waiter as I left him to fend for himself. I then reached for my handkerchief and handed it to Janina. “Oh, look at that. Is that red wine? It’s going to stain.”

  She frowned. “Um, yeah, I’ll go have a look. I’ll be right back.”

  As she scurried off, I turned my attention back to Garreth. He was also dabbing at his tuxedo. “Jesus, the staff they hired for this event leaves a lot to be desired.”

  I reached inside my pocket and grabbed the device. It was small enough that he wouldn’t notice. All I had to do was place it.

  From behind me, my father called out, “East, is that you?”

  That was bullshit. He knew it was me.

  I took a step toward Garreth and tapped him on the shoulder to distract him. I slid my hand inside his jacket, placed the device, and pulled my hand free as I pressed my other hand firmly to his shoulder. When I turned, he was already nodding to my father, pleasantly distracted.

  I muttered into my com, “Start the transfer.”

  “Fucking finally. You took longer than Ben the first time.”

  “I swear to God, I will kick your ass.”

  Bridge only chuckled.

  Ben’s voice came next. “All right, let me arrange a distraction for your father.”

  I sighed. “No, I have to deal with him.”

  Garreth and my father exchanged pleasantries, and I forced myself to nod at my father.

  “Where have you been, lad? I was hoping to speak with you, especially now that one of your own is currently our Director Prime. There are a few initiatives that I’d love to talk through with you.”

  Of course, you would have something to further your own agenda. When did my father ever not think about himself?

  “Well, we’re right here.”

  The old man looked uncomfortable, as if he were desperate for privacy. I knew better than to let Garreth slip out of my sight, but the old man looked like he wasn’t going to let it go. He wanted some alone time, and he wanted it now. “East, I’d like to speak to you alone for a minute.”

  Garreth tapped me on the shoulder. “Mate, I see Davis over there. I have a question for him about a player. I’ll catch you later.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I had no control of the situation. If he left and found the device before we recovered it, we were blown. But Ben was on it, it seemed. “You deal with the old man. I’ll run interference with Garreth. East, just plant the next one on Middleton, and I’ll do the same thing.”

  Bridge’s voice was clear. “All right, we have thirty seconds before we’re done. Ben, you take over. East, try to shake the old man so you can plant the second device.”

  “Yup, on it.”

  My f
ather leaned forward. “What was that?”

  There was more swearing from Bridge. Then he said. “Fuck it. I’m coming in. Data from the first device is transmitting smoothly.”

  Dammit. I didn’t need his help. I could get this done.

  Can you? The old man isn’t going to let this go.

  “What I said, Dad, was that we have nothing to talk about. I have zero desire to engage with you. If you want to bring me to the table to take my place as a Hale, then you know what you need to do. Until then, we’re done.”

  He frowned. “East, I know things had been tense between us for some time, obviously. But I thought now that Covington had been named Director Prime, your feelings would have eased a little.”

  I forced a tight smile. “What does Ben being the Director Prime have to do with anything? He’s my best mate. He should be Director Prime. He’s the only one who’s going to lead us in the right direction. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  He winced.

  The vote for a new Director Prime had been filled with tension. The most powerful man in all of Britain, if not the world. And that was now Ben, so of course, everybody would want a piece of him. And they were going to do it by getting as close to Ben as they could.

  “Look, things have been difficult between us, but it’s time to put that aside. I’d like to talk to Ben about—“

  “Dad, I’m not going ease a path for you. If you want to talk to Ben, then talk to Ben. I have more important things to do.”

  He frowned at me. “You really plan to hold a grudge?”

  I shrugged. “Yes. I am going to hold a grudge. That’s how this works. I will do my damn level best to destroy you. So let me be clear in case, somehow, it’s not. You severed any relationship we had a long time ago. And there is no recovering from that until you decide to repair the damage that you’ve done.” I then turned and walked away. I had another device to plant.

  4

  East

  Where the hell had Middleton gone? I could have sworn I saw—

  Instead of Middleton, a dark-haired woman crossed my path. She wore vermillion red, and her dress dipped in the back, displaying an expanse of skin. I turned toward her to get a better look. Was that—