Rulers of Deception Read Free Page A

and over the back of his neck. “Uh, no. Of course not.”
    Cyrus’ eyes narrowed, even as the right side of his mouth lifted. “The fact that you thought you could get away with it tells me you didn’t think I’d find out. But I have eyes and ears all over this town. I know it every time you sneeze.”
    Marshall grabbed at the loosened tie that hung around his neck, realizing he couldn’t relieve the pressure that was choking the life out of him. His face was pale as he stepped into the living room and took a seat on the sofa across from his father. “Just tell me what it is I did and I’ll put an end to it.”
    “You’re fucking the governor’s wife.” Cyrus’ teeth clenched around the last word, as if the term “wife” disgusted him.
    Marshall stared down at his hands and tried to think of a way to reason out of the accusation. Unfortunately, the wine sloshing around in his head left no room for ideas. Instead, he’d settle for humility.
    “I’m sorry, Dad.”
    “Sorry doesn’t fix shit. You know that,” Cyrus grunted, sipping at his brandy. As he savored the rich taste of it, his mouth twisted in a scowl. “I have Gossinger right where I want him. Right where the company needs him to be. You get caught and he’ll have all matter of shit raining down upon our heads.”
    Marshall nodded. As much as he wanted to deny the cold, hard facts, he couldn’t. “I’ll end the affair.”
    Cyrus set the glass of brandy aside on an oak end table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His fingertips came up to steeple by his mouth, eyes hard as iron focused on his oldest son. “I know you get some kind of sick pleasure out of this little game of yours, but one day it’s going to ruin you. Ruin us.”
    Marshall stiffened, staring into his father’s gaze. “I won’t let it ruin us.”
    A gruff laugh flew from Cyrus’ throat. “You couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to. You play your games but this is business, boy. I expected this from Win but not from you.”
    Surprise flashed in Marshall’s eyes. Before he could think of what to say in response, Cyrus continued. “I gave you the New York hotel so you could do something with it, not philander around with the wife of one of our guests.” Disgust flavored his words. “You will have to earn back my trust.”
    Instead of throwing fire the way he wanted to, Marshall swallowed his pride and backed down. He knew any fight he picked with his father would end in blood. His blood. “Okay, I will.”
    “Good.” Cyrus rose to his feet, unfolding his long frame from the leather armchair. When Marshall looked up at him, Cyrus spoke again. “I don’t care what it takes, you end this. Immediately. And get rid of your driver. He knows too much.”
    He left, the faint scent of brandy and the cigar he must have enjoyed on the way over lingering in the air. Marshall heard the front door open and then click shut, leaving him in silence.
    Maureen, he knew, was going to be furious. She would never understand. A woman like that, a woman prone to throwing caution to the wind and damning all consequences would not accept the excuse that his family came first. That she was just too dangerous for him.
    If anything that would only excite her more. He had to find some other way to spin it, something that she would have no choice but to accept. Then he had to pray she kept the affair a secret and not mention it to her husband out of spite.
    And Marco, his driver, the only person other than Cyrus and Maureen who knew of the affair, would have to go. As much as he liked the guy, Cyrus’ orders were clear.
    Feeling sick to his stomach, Marshall buried his face in his hands. It can wait till tomorrow, he thought tiredly. When he could think clearly and not still have the scent of Maureen’s jasmine perfume on his skin.
    Resigned to exhaustion, he got up and dragged himself into bed.
    Two days later, every paper in the city announced the shocking news: