Page 1 of Craig

Chapter 1

God had forgotten him. It was that simple or that complicated.

God had turned his back, thrown up his arms (if he had any!), and washed his hands clean of Craig Sean Muldoon. How else could he explain his crappy run of bad luck?

It all started when he was shot at in Mexico over a card game gone bad and had barely escaped with his life. That was followed by his cover being blown in Rome when he tried to get some kids to safety.

Now this.

His luck was all for crap. He was half Irish, but luck seemed to have deserted him.

"Craig?"

He had almost forgotten about the precise and tidy man standing at the other side of the room. The idea about shooting the messenger filtered through his mind.

"Are you certain?" he asked abruptly.

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't. Your grandfather has a little less than two months, and he wants to see you. To settle things."

"How did you find me?"

In the six years since he had brushed off the dust from his home, he hadn't looked back until now. He had been in a seedy motel room in the Cayman Islands when the message had come through.

Before he had time to gather his things, he was being hustled to a waiting car and onto the company's private jet.

William Grayson III had been with the family for over fifty years, having started out as a legal assistant to the family's then-lawyer, William Grayson II. He had taken over as head of the legal team ten years ago, when the old man died of a stroke.

He was excellent at his job and loyal to the Muldoon family, a family that had made him rich beyond his wildest dreams. His third marriage had disintegrated without much fuss, only a minor inconvenience, with his third wife accusing him of having more affection for his position than for her.

He concluded she was right.

"We have the best resources in the world. Cecil has been keeping tabs on you. I trust you're fully recovered from that unfortunate incident in Mexico?"

'That unfortunate incident,' as the man put it, had almost cost him his life, but what the hell did that matter in the grand scheme of things.

"Why does he want to see me?"

William merely lifted a brow and used the snowy white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his immaculately tailored jacket to wipe the gold-framed glasses, before perching it on the bridge of his nose.

"You will discover that when you meet with him." William flickered a look over the beard and the filthy clothing.

"I suggest you get cleaned up. I had someone bring you some suitable clothing and a shaving kit. Your grandfather is expecting you in thirty minutes."

"Tell me something, William." Craig said between his teeth when the man turned away.

"Aren't you tired of jumping through hoops for the old man?"

If the man was offended, it did not show in his placid expression.

"Not at all. Thirty minutes."

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him with a snap.

Alone in the hotel room, one that belonged to his family, Craig paced the length of the spaciously elegant bedroom. He was trapped.

After escaping years ago, he was now back. His grandfather was dying, and that could only mean one thing.

Craig was going to have to take up his rightful place as the head of the company.