Rulers of Deception Read Free

your high and mighty horse about drugs, boss? It’s just a little coke.”
    Wyatt glared at his friend. “Yeah, and I don’t want a part in dealing, okay? I’m fine gambling my life away, but drugs will get you hard time. I don’t want to spend my best years in prison.”
    “Yeah, yeah.” Jimmy slid back into his seat and fiddled with the brick of coke, admiring it in the dim light from a nearby apartment window.
    “We need to ditch this car. It’s time to get the hell out of Bogotá,” Wyatt decided, opening the door and stepping out. He reached into the backseat through a broken window to grab the envelope full of cash. “You coming?”
    Jimmy nodded, climbing out of the car with the coke stashed safely in his waistband. “Where to?”
    Wyatt started walking up the alley, a smile curving his lips. “You ever been to Mexico?”
    “I got kicked out of Mexico once.” Jimmy caught up with him and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I can probably sneak back in, though. I know a guy who knows a guy.”
    “Good. If we move fast, we can catch a flight before Franco beats us to the airport.”
    “And then it’s home free to Me-hi-co!” Jimmy chimed in a singsong voice.
    Wyatt grinned. “Where a sinner like you and a rebel like me can finally catch a break.”
    “Amen to that, boss. Aye-men to that!”

 
     
     

     
     
    S ome called it a sin to bed another man’s wife. Marshall Vasser would have normally agreed, but when that woman was Maureen Gossinger, he considered it a privilege.
    She was a particularly appealing woman, not just for who she was but also for whom she was married to. Pursuing the wife of the most powerful man in New York was turning out to be the ultimate high.
    Marshall smiled, lightheaded from the combination of good wine and better sex as his town car carried him home. At forty years old, he considered himself to be in his prime. He knew what he wanted, and knew even better how to get it. His position in high society and the weight behind his family name provided plenty of opportunities.
    Maureen was thirty-two and blonde, trim and presentable on the outside and a raging tigress inside. Marshall wondered if she even enjoyed sex with her husband, the governor. For as often as she beckoned Marshall to her bed, she must not.
    He couldn’t care less, however. Her husband was of no consequence to him. All he cared about was the thrill of knowing he gave her what her husband couldn’t give.
    He justified his behavior because he himself was unmarried. Since he had no intention of ever tying the knot, there was no harm being done to his conscience. If Maureen wanted to have an affair, that was her business, not his. He was just the happy recipient of her affections.
    As satisfying as Maureen was, Marshall still desired his own space. He never spent the night with a woman, never cared to. He preferred spreading out in his own bed, alone.
    As the car came to a stop in front of his townhouse, he released a sigh. Home at last.
    His driver put the car in park and jumped out to hold open the door. As he did so, Marshall smiled.
    “Have yourself a good night, Marco. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” His words stumbled over themselves on the way out of his mouth, but he hardly noticed.
    Marco nodded politely. “Good night, sir.”
    Marshall patted the man on the back before ascending the steps to his front door. He fumbled with the key and let himself inside. The foyer was dark and silent. Humming to himself, he flipped on the light for the living room.
    When he saw his father sitting in his favorite leather armchair, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
    Cyrus Vasser toyed with the tumbler of brandy in his hands, running his fingers over the glass. His dark eyes met Marshall’s, cold and mean.
    “Do you take me for a fool, boy?”
    Marshall blinked, reduced to his ten-year-old self in front of his disappointed father. He ran a hand through his brown hair