Page 1 of Duke of Ruin

1

NOAH

Itoss back the last of my whiskey sour and run my tongue along my teeth, savoring the burn as I swallow. This is my third drink, way too many for what’s at stake tonight, but I’m just blending in with the crowd. No one here has given me so much as a second glance, even though I’m not a member of this fraternity. I adjust my mask; it’s just another part of blending in. I’m one of about fifty guys here wearing the half mask identical to the one inThe Phantom of the Opera, which is probably why no one has paid any attention to me.

I stand up from the barstool and sway slightly—yeah, I’ve had too much. The heirs to the Carbone family are all legacies for this frat, which is the only reason why I’m here. I have no interest in joining the Phi Alphas, or any other frat for that matter. I already belong to one: the fraternity of law enforcement officers. I straighten my shoulders, but try to be careful not to look too much like a cop. I’m one of the youngest undercover officers for the Montcove PD, which is perfect for this task, and I have the added perk of being able to finish my Criminal Psychology degree with my tuition completely covered.

Too bad there’s not much going on tonight besides the usual frat house nonsense—a lot of drinking, screwing around, and general debauchery. Too bad I’m not particularly interested in what’s on display tonight. The women are wearing barely-there dresses and elaborate jeweled masks. They look amazing, but my eyes keep wandering to the men in their designer tuxedos, some even wearing capes, with dark and mysterious masks to hide their identities.

There are places for openly gay men on this campus, but the Phi Alpha House isn’t one of them. I run my tongue over my lips and start toward the door. I think I’m done for the night since I won’t find anything useful at this party, and I shouldn’t risk hanging around and blowing my cover, especially since another whiskey sour is already calling to me.

I hear a slight commotion across the main room. This whole house is an ostentatious display of money. Most of the brothers here come from obnoxiously wealthy families with ties in both legal and not-so-legal dealings around Montcove, even expanding deeper into New England. Dark-stained oak trim surrounds almost everything, and bronze sconces and fixtures decorate the walls and surrounding furniture—all leather, of course. A split staircase leads to the second floor where the brothers who live in-house keep their bedrooms. The bar, with its hired tender, wraps around the back of the room and leads into a gourmet kitchen that I’m sure only hired chefs and caterers actually use.

The massive oak doors swing wide as a new group of revelers comes into view. I stop where I am and lean against the wall, trying to look inconspicuous as I catalogue each new attendee. The man in front is clearly the leader of this menagerie; he’s taller than the others and wears a jester’s hat with alternating blue and gold velvet stripes. His gold mask weaves around his temples and meets across his eyes, but I can see the bright flash of green even behind the mask. Sensuous lips curl back into a wide smile, and his jawline is sharp and angled. He looks like a statue of a Greek god. His tuxedo is bright blue with gold trim, matching his jester’s mask. His quick eyes scan the room, and my heart skips a beat when they rest on me.

Realization makes my chest tighten. He’s my target, Eli Carbone, but this is the first time I’ve seen him in person. There’s no reason he should recognize me, but my pulse quickens as his eyes linger on me for a moment before resuming their scan of the party. Two women flank him, their full breasts spilling over tight necklines, each of them dressed identically in blinding silver dresses and platinum masks, though one is blonde and the other brunette. Several other men in Renaissance-style masks follow them. I watch as Eli turns to his left and exchanges greetings with several of the other partiers, his entourage dutifully following his every step. Even from my vantage point, I can see that he’s graceful and quick. His eyes never stop moving as he assesses the room around him. I have to figure out how to get close to him without him figuring out I’m a cop.

I return to the bar and order another whiskey sour, which is probably the last thing I need, but this man has already gotten under my skin. He walks through the room like some sort of royalty, and I feel the compulsion to knock him down a peg. He comes from an evil family—they’re all corrupt, selfish mobsters with no regard for anyone without the Carbone name. They all lie, cheat, steal, and murder their way into money and power.

I turn back to the bar with my drink in hand, realizing that I need to school my expression when the bartender winces. I shake my head to clear it. If I want to pull this off, I can’t let my emotions get in the way. I pull in a deep breath and close my eyes for a second.

“Interesting party.” A voice startles me out of my thoughts. It’s smooth and rich, steeped in wealth and diplomacy.

“Definitely,” I answer. I open my eyes and blink twice when I turn to the speaker. It’shim. I fight to control my expression as my heart starts pounding in my chest. “Have we…have we met?” I manage to stammer out the words, fighting to keep my wince internal.

“I don’t believe so,” he says as he trains those emerald eyes on me. My hands twitch with the compulsion to reach out and touch his mask. It looks like it’s made from spun gold. “I’m Eli.” He extends his hand, and I stare at it stupidly for a heartbeat.

“Noah,” I say, and take his hand. It’s warm and soft, and the unsettling image of it wrapped around my dick flashes through my mind. I swallow, and my throat feels thick. I’m about to blow this.

“Well, Noah.” He smiles at me as though he can feel my nervousness through my hand, which I notice he hasn’t yet released. “Are you pledging?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” I finally manage a weak smile.

“Well, let me know if you do,” he answers, and nods at someone across the room. He finally releases my hand and reaches up to run his fingers across my jawline, an uncomfortably intimate gesture that sets my nerves tingling.

“I will.” My eyes narrow as he walks away from me. I can just make out the muscle definition of his legs through his tuxedo. I should look away, but I can’t help myself as I watch him breeze through the room like he owns it. I finally drag my eyes away from his lithe figure and turn back to the bar. The bartender wears a slight smirk that he quickly erases once my eyes are trained on him. I take a few more sips of my drink, then set the mostly empty tumbler down and stand up, swaying slightly on my feet. I did what I came to do; I made contact. Now I need to get out of here before I do somethingreallystupid.

As I make my way through the crowd, I notice Eli again. This time, he’s looking directly at me. My heart stutters and I can’t tear my eyes away. He gives me a short nod. I can’t tell if it’s an invitation or simply an acknowledgement, but in my buzzed state, I take it as the former and change direction. As soon as he realizes I’m headed straight for him, Eli whispers something in the ear of the woman next to him and stands up. He gives me a quick glance over his shoulder before walking in the opposite direction. I hesitate, but only for a second, before I follow.

I keep my eyes trained on his back, watching the silky material of his tux swaying with his movements, as I follow him toward a back door. He slips through it, and I think I see another quick glance in my direction as the door closes behind him. I cross the room and put my hand on the bronze handle, then pause. I should turn around and leave. Even if he was trying to get my attention, it was subtle enough to pretend I missed it. My skin tingles in anticipation for what’s on the other side of this door. Against my better judgment, I turn the handle and push through.

I’m surrounded by greenery. A massive oak tree stands in the center of a meticulously manicured garden. Shrubs and flowers rise on each side of me, giving the air a sweet and earthy scent. I’m standing on a narrow stone path that leads to a concrete bench underneath the tree, but I don’t see Eli anywhere. My pulse quickens as I realize that I don’t seeanyone. The music from the party is muffled behind me, but the air in this place is heavy and quiet. I cautiously take a step forward, following the path. Even in my drunken state I realize the potential for danger in this situation, and my senses sharpen as I listen for anything unusual. Is it possible that Eli somehow already knows about me, and now he’s lured me out here to eliminate me? That would fit with the Carbone way of business. And I stupidly walked right into the trap. I should turn back now before I end up at the bottom of the river, but my feet keep moving forward down the path. I approach the tree, the massive trunk blocking most of my view of the rest of the garden. I tune into my surroundings and slowly arch around the trunk, and I notice that the path continues on the other side of it.

I check my surroundings again. My skin tingles with excitement and anticipation, though I can’t figure out why. I slip onto the other side of the path, trying to keep silent as I follow it deeper into the garden.

“Took you long enough.”

I jump and spin around with my hands in the air defensively, only to see Eli leaning against the oak tree. I lower my hands as I chastise myself. I am so fucking stupid tonight. I know I drank too much, though I know that’s not my only excuse right now. I was trained by the best agents at Montcove PD, and they would have my ass right now if they could see how dumb I’ve been tonight. I shake my head, flexing my jaw. This is it; this is how I die. I followed my target a little too closely, and now I’ll disappear like so many of the Carbone enemies.

My eyes sweep up and down Eli’s frame and I feel a slight twinge in my cock. He’s beautiful, and I don’t see any weapons. Some of his entourage must be hiding out here waiting for his signal. It’s possible that I just can’t see his weapon, but I think he’d be holding it if he was about to attack. I look around, trying to sense someone else.

“We’re alone, Noah,” he says, his voice silken and thick. I make a decision right here and now: if this is how I die, I’ll at least die fighting. I straighten my shoulders and look directly into his piercing eyes.

“What do you want?” I ask, keeping my voice level.

“I noticed you watching me,” Eli answers, his sultry voice like a caress. “I thought we could have some fun.”

I tilt my head, my lips curling into a slight smirk. “What did you have in mind?” I take a step closer as he pushes himself away from the tree trunk.

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