Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

I took a seat in the other chair but didn’t touch anything on the table. We both waited until Lars was gone until we spoke a word to each other. I trusted my employees to take my secrets to the grave, but that didn’t mean I gave up information willingly. “What do you want?”

Cane poured himself a cup of coffee and rested his ankle on the opposite knee. He wore a suit and tie because he just left the facility. Despite our genetic link, we looked vastly different from one another. His face wasn’t as carved as mine, and his thick muscles made him burly. I was the opposite. My features were clear and distinct, and my body was ripped and toned. I preferred the lean and strong look. I was faster, quicker, and packed a lot of strength in a single punch. If you asked me, my brother’s bulkiness made him slower, his reaction time prolonged—which was why I always kicked his ass in a fight. “Are you always this grouchy first thing in the morning? I feel sorry for Lars...” He drank his coffee black, holding the cup by the stem like he was from royalty.

“I’m always this grouchy when I look at you.” I poured my coffee and drank it black just the way he did. There was no other way to savor the rich beans. I’d told him I wanted to be alone—several times. The only person I could stand was Lars. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t feel entitled to explanations. He did his job without passing judgment. He just existed alongside me, there when I needed him and absent when he wasn’t welcome.

“How was your run?”

I hated small talk. “Is there something you wanted to discuss?”

“Always right to the point...” He pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket inside his jacket. “I got some intel on Bones.”

“Anything helpful?” Maybe he had a special relationship with one of his servants. Maybe he had a soft spot for one of his employees. If there were someone he cared about, we would know.

“Actually, yes. It seems as though Bones bought another slave right after...” He didn’t finish the sentence because neither one of us needed to hear it. We didn’t wear our hearts on our sleeves because neither one of us had one. “She’s American.”

“What’s your point?” I didn’t care who Bones’s next victim was. Hopefully, she had a quick and painless death.

“One of our guys on the inside said he brought her to his factory in northern Italy.”

I was about to sip my coffee but quickly changed my mind. “He showed everything to her?”

He nodded. “Apparently, he executed a man who had passed out from a seizure. What a show-off.” He chuckled and examined the paper. “But that’s not the most interesting part. He has tickets to the opera this Saturday. Guess who he’s taking with him.”

I didn’t need the answer. Bones had kept slaves throughout his entire career. They stayed in the house, never to be seen by a witness. He did what he wanted until he discarded them. He never displayed them publicly or treated them as anything but dogs.

This one was different.

“What do you think it means?”

“I’m not sure,” Cane answered. “But I can only assume he has a special fondness for this one.”

I was drawing the same conclusion.

“You’ll never guess how much he paid for her.”

I’d never heard anything over a million. “One point five.”

He read off the paper, a smile on his lips. “Three.”

I held the mug in my hand but didn’t take a drink. Steam rose into my face, but I didn’t notice it. All I could concentrate on was the sound of my brother’s voice. “Three million dollars?”

He nodded. “He went all out for this one.”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around that. It was the largest bid I’d ever heard—for a slave. It didn’t make sense to spend so much money on a slave who would just die in a few years.

“My sources say she’s unnatural.”

“Unnatural?”

“She’s exquisite. Divine. Gorgeous. Something out of this world. One of my guys said she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Long brown hair, blue eyes, and she has legs that stretch on for days.” He whistled quietly. “Now I need to see her for myself.”

Beautiful women came and went. I’d seen my share of them. I’d fucked my share of them. There was no such thing as a woman so beautiful she would be worth that kind of cash. Perhaps I was just a hard man to impress, but I wasn’t mesmerized easily. My heart was made of stone, and it only beat to keep my blood circulating. Even in the throes of passion, my heart beat dangerously slow. My body wasn’t interested in love. It was hardly interested in sex. I was only interested in destruction. “I’m sure she’s nothing remarkable.”