Page 1 of Miles
Chapter One
Miles
“Thank you for hosting this dinner, Miles. I’ve always considered you a son, and your father one of my greatest friends.” I don’t need his appreciation, but I treasure it. This man has always been wonderful to me and is the reason I’m so damn successful. Of course, my own father has a lot to do with that as well. I can’t diminish that aspect, but Emiliano Martín was instrumental in the man I’ve become—especially because I’ve chosen to live in Vegas instead of Steeleville like my father.
He takes a seat behind his desk, looking worse for wear as a grunt escapes him. He tries to hide it, but it’s pointless. The man isn’t that young anymore, so I’m not sure why he bothers. Given all he’s been through, I know the pain is intense, and there is no shame in dealing with it.
“Are you well?” I ask my godfather, who seems a little under the weather since I saw him two days ago.
“Yes,” he remarks. “The surgery is in two days, but the damn pain is a son of a bitch now.” I nod.
“Do you need me to call the doctor, get you some meds, or call my godmother?” She’d do anything to take care of him.
His eyes widen, and he leans back in his chair. “Oh, God, no. Don’t call Roxie.” His voice amplified and his shoulders stiffed. Hell, that stressed him more than normal. He loves her, so it’s not that he doesn’t want her around. Their love was unshakeable, so something has to be up.
I tilt my head and take a seat in the chair in front of his desk. I wonder if there’s something I’m missing. “How is my godmother?”
“She is managing, doing her best not to worry, and I don’t want to add to her worries. We haven’t told the kids about the risks, but they’re smart.” He calls them kids, but they are pretty much all adults now, so they know that the risks are great but the surgery is necessary. That’s why I’m willing to allow all these pieces of shit into my home for a discussion. There’s no way in hell I’d allow them in my home otherwise.
The families have to be made aware that Elsa is under my protection. The entire Martín family is under my protection, but that’s the most important part of the meeting. She is a prize that men want to claim, and I’m certain that those assholes are going to bring her up.
“Does Elsa know about the dinner?” I ask.
“No, she doesn’t, and we need to keep it that way.” He’s always done a great job of keeping the women out of the dangerous end of our lives. It’s for the best given how easily his enemies would love to use them to their advantage.
“Good. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. She’s just a little girl—and my godsister.” I have no interest in her other than protecting her from the dangers that come with being a beautiful heiress, and she is beautiful—remarkably so. I haven’t seen her in the past year, surprisingly, because life has gotten in the way, but as it is, I need to do a better job.
“She’s hardly a little girl anymore, but I want her safe.”
“Don’t worry about her. I won’t let anything happen to little Elsa.”
“You keep referring to her as little, but she’s about to start her second year of college soon.”
My eyes widen like a damn clown. I rub my jaw and then add, “Damn—second year? Where have I been?” I’ve been working nonstop for the company and helping with problemsthat arise in Steeleville from time to time, so much that I don’t have any social life, and it’s a shame that I haven’t even kept up with those closest to me.
“Working your ass off. I’m sure Milo has mentioned it once or twice.”
Hardly. Now that I think about it, he actually makes a concerted effort not to mention Elsa to me. “Not that often. Just that she’s a pain in the ass.” A thought comes to mind, and I push it back, but it lingers. There is no way that Milo saw the way I looked at her that day. It was brief, and I was just stunned. Elsa had surprised us one day in a tiny pair of shorts and a cartoon tee with her hair in a ponytail. It wasn’t anything super attention-grabbing, but I noticed that she’d grown up. I quickly excused myself to attend a meeting, and that was the last time I saw her. Hell, that was over a year ago.
“Ha. Siblings. Go figure. She’s a good girl, but headstrong like her mother and extremely anxious to be independent.” I know what he means by that: no damn security, free to be like every other girl around her. That isn’t something that can easily be done because of who she is.
I walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour myself a drink. “What is she studying? It’s not like she wants to take over the hotel.” I know that because her brother and I have already split the daily operations and control of the Granite hotels, and now the added casino next door. She has no interest in such things, but she does reap the benefits of its success.
She has four brothers, but only Milo is old enough and wants to be a part of the business. Julio is in college in New York, Miguel is currently in high school, and Daniel is just a kid still.
“You’re going to laugh when I tell you.” I raise my eyebrow, waiting to learn what ridiculous path she chose. Sheloves dogs, so maybe she’s going to be a vet. That would suit her. “Criminology.”
“Are you serious? She picked that. Would you care for one?” I ask, waving my glass.
“No, it’s off-limits for me for a bit.” Damn. I needed more than a drink when it came to that news.
“Fine, I’ll drink for the both of us. She does know that not everything in our world is always aboveboard.” We aren’t criminals per se, but we aren’t squeaky clean either. Okay, we were dirtier than most, but not for the sake of being dirty. We got our hands filthy when necessary.
“Yes, but she’s difficult.” I need to have a talk with the spoiled little princess. She’s already got more than most girls will ever have, and she is on the verge of losing her father, but the little brat wants to learn ways to catch bad guys. Does she suddenly detest her father?
A rapid knock on the door comes, and I go to open it, only to nearly be steamrolled by a five foot three little fireball. I catch her before she falls, but I’m assailed by her scent and the insane pounding in my chest. “Oh my goodness, Miles. I hadn’t… I didn’t see you there,” she stammers.
“What’s up, Princess?” her dad answers as she tries to untangle herself from my arms, but I have a strong hold on her. A hold that locks into place as if our lives depended on it.
