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My life sucked.
We had ridiculous wealth, needed for nothing, but all I ever did was work bar the occasional dinner with my siblings or friends.
Not to mention my fiancée.
A text message still sat on my screen, waiting to be clicked.
‘Dinner tonight at seven with the fam--‘
I hadn’t dared click it, knowing I wouldn’t be able to feign ignorance if I had.
It’s not that I didn’t want to marry Nicole Valetti, but it was her connections I was marrying, not her. She was beautiful, accomplished, intelligent: everything the head of a syndicate needed by his side. She fit.
The fact that we had little in common bar our family associations, and that if rumours were to be believed she was madly in love with her bodyguard, were just hiccups. Over time, we’d be able to iron them out and come to some sort of agreement about what our union would do for us both.
I hoped.
I’d seen the insane passion with which my siblings had been brought to their knees when they found the right person, but they had the space and time to think with their hearts. I needed to use my head.
I needed a new generation of McGowan’s, and a decent, understanding wife to have them with. Someone who understood that the next generation mattered most. More than desire. More than love. More than what I wanted.
Expansion into Europe would have the McGowan legacy being more than just money. Our hold in Scotland was strong, and our connections through England were tight. But Europe was next on my list.
And I would take it.
The Valettis were my key.
I opened the text as I stood and ran a hand down my wrinkling shirt. I’d need to change, but I should be able to make dinner if I had my driver blow a few red lights.
The Valetti mansion sat on a sprawling estate in Glencoe, surrounded by acres of heather topped hills, glittering lochs and hundreds of deer. It was no wonder that it enticed Tony Valetti into staying there for more than half of the year.
The main house was vast, even compared to my mansion near Glasgow, and surrounded by intricately styled gardens and a swath of staff flitting around to tend to the Valettis every whim.
My driver dropped me at the door, while two of my men followed me into the home, the butler nodding as I passed.
‘Good Evening Mr. McGowan, the family are in the dining room, I’ll see you through.’
I returned his nod stiffly before following him through the marble laid hall and down a series of wide halls. There were only four people who lived in the vast estate, from what I understood. Tony and his wife, Anette, my fiancée Nicole, and her stepbrother Hugh. The art on the walls stared back at me as I passed the grand portraits that lined the corridors, and I couldn’t imagine living there. Would Nicole move in with me after we wed? I doubted she would be keen on that. Her family seemed to be her life as much as my siblings were mine.
Everyone was eating when I walked into the room, an awkward silence falling over the space.
‘Mr. McGowan,’ the butler announced as I took a slow breath.
‘Lost your watch, Logan?’ Tony said, his voice dry as he set down his soup spoon and indicated to an empty chair beside Nicole.
‘My apologies. Work held me up.’
‘Maybe you need to work on your delegation skills.’
I bristled as he stared at me, reminding myself that he would be my father-in-law when the temptation to shut him up swept over me.
The marriage had been agreed upon between Nicole and me, and her father wasn’t happy about it. In most crime families, the head of the family could have overruled the decision, but he was allowing it. Begrudgingly.
Nicole was his only daughter, and heir to his extensive crime organisation. Perhaps she held more sway than I thought.
‘I like to be in the swing of it,’ I said, taking my seat as a member of staff briskly set a plate of soup down in front of me.
‘I hear you are involved in the shipment that just arrived from South America,’ Hugh said, changing the subject. ‘Sounds like you’ve got your fingers in a lot of pies.’
