Before either of them said anything, Red came waltzing out of the office, a stupid grin on his face.

“Looks like it’s your turn, pretty boy.”

The newcomer turned to Red, a stern expression on his face. “Don’t.”

The single word was spoken softy. Not a shout, not a whisper, but it had definitely gotten Red’s attention. Red’s face blanched, his mouth hanging open as he stared back at the boy. Leyton sat up straight, waiting for the inevitable confrontation, ready to defend himself again if it came to that.

“Tommy. Back to class,” the receptionist called out, peering at them from beneath the glasses perched on her narrow nose.

Leyton briefly wondered which of them was Tommy, but then Red answered that question for him. “I’m goin’,” he grumbled, glaring at Leyton.

“Back off,” the dark-haired kid told Tommy firmly. “And don’t let me catch you causin’ problems again. Feel me?”

Tommy nodded and then scurried out of the office, leaving Leyton staring after him.

Leyton noticed the receptionist wasn’t looking their way, as though she was pretending they weren’t less than two feet from her desk. Interesting since she’d ushered Brittany and Tommy out but hadn’t said a word to this guy.

Who was he? The principal’s kid or something?

The coach appeared, but before he said anything, he looked between Leyton and the stranger. “We got a problem here?”

“Not at all,” the kid assured him in a tone that seemed far too formal for someone his age. “I was just gonna make sure he made it back to class. You don’t need him anymore, do you?”

What? Leyton was confused. He was about to be suspended for fighting, or at the very least, he was going to have to deal with his father. Or so he’d thought.

But that wasn’t what happened.

“No,” the coach answered. “He’s good to go.”

The kid nodded at Leyton.

Getting to his feet, he stared around the office, noticing the adults in the room seemed almost scared of this guy. Which didn’t make a bit of sense. He couldn’t have been more than twelve, thirteen tops, if Leyton had to guess.

“What’s your name?” the kid asked Leyton directly as they headed through the door back into the hallway.

Leyton offered his first name, but that was all.

The kid smiled, still staring back at him.

“And you are?” Leyton inquired.

“Name’s Max. Max Adorite.”

“Is that name s’posed to mean somethin’ to me?” Leyton asked, still confused by the turn of events.

An older kid passing by chuckled.

Max’s grin widened. “Not yet. But it will. One day, it definitely will.”

Leyton would later learn that no truer words had ever been spoken.

Chapter Two

Temptation, anyone? Going once...

Present Day

Seventeen years later, November 1 st

“No, I get it,” Leyton grumbled into the phone as he stared at the trees lining the long, narrow drive. “Not what I asked, but I get it. I’ll see you Friday night. That gives you five days to figure it out.” When the Escalade came to a stop, Leyton glanced out the window into the dreary afternoon, the phone still to his ear. “Oh, and Tony, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get it figured out before then. Otherwise, it’ll be a shitty end to your week.”

Stabbing the end button on the phone screen, Leyton climbed out of the Escalade, adjusted his suit jacket as he walked around to meet Rock, who stood a few feet away in front of Max Adorite’s sprawling mansion. It wasn’t that late, only four in the afternoon, but the clouds had darkened the sky enough to trigger the sensors on the landscape lighting, so the various spotlights hidden in the shrubbery surrounding the house lit up the white-stone walls and highlighted the drizzle that came down from the sky. As they moved toward the door, Leyton spotted the familiar red lights from the many security cameras keeping an eye on the place.

Stepping up onto the porch, Leyton smiled when he noticed a jack-o’-lantern sitting off in the corner. Max sure had come a long way if he was carving pumpkins to celebrate Halloween. And considering that particular holiday was now behind them, he wondered why it was still there.

“You ready for this, boss?” Rock asked with a smirk.

“No, but I’m here, ain’t I?”

“You might wanna keep that smile on that pretty-boy face of yours or Max’s woman’s gonna start askin’ questions.”

Rock was right. Leyton had learned if he wanted to avoid endless questions, he had to smile. Although he was certain Courtney saw right through his façade, a smile did keep her questions at bay. Most of the time, anyway.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Leyton offered with a grin.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have nothin’ to say,” Rock joked, his straight white teeth flashing back at Leyton as he grinned.

Rock—whose birth name was Taye Smith, though only his parents called him that—was Leyton’s right hand these days. They’d given the massive black man the nickname when they’d first met him after he applied for a bouncer job at Devil’s Playground six years ago. At six foot seven inches, two hundred eighty-five pounds, the guy had earned the moniker because when he wasn’t willing to move, there was no way of getting him to. Not only was he a beast due to his overwhelming size, he was also cocky and smart as hell. A triple threat, Dane—another of Max’s main enforcers—called him.

Ever since Leyton had been promoted within the ranks of the Southern Boy Mafia, becoming second-in-command—the underboss—he’d been required to give up his old job of security to the big boss, Max, and in turn had found himself with a bodyguard or two of his own. Rock was always at his side; his one and only job was to ensure Leyton didn’t get his head blown off. Or that was the way Leyton figured it, anyway. Not that he’d let anything happen to Rock, because, after all, over the last two and a half months, the two of them had become close friends.

It’d taken Leyton a few weeks to make the decision regarding which of their employees he wanted at his side, but Leyton had known all along who he would’ve preferred to watch his back. Rock was his first and only choice. Honest, loyal, but most importantly, he minded his own business.

No, choosing hadn’t been the issue. The problem he’d had was taking one of Max’s main enforcers away from him. They all knew that Max was the one who needed someone to watch his back these days. Being that Max was the official boss of the Adorite family—dubbed the Southern Boy Mafia by the news-hungry press known for glamorizing the dark underworld—he was always a target. Then again, the attempt on Leyton’s life last month had proven that he’d definitely taken to his job quickly. People were beginning to see him as a force to be reckoned with. As they should.

But now, as Leyton made his way up to the door of Max’s house, ready to have dinner, Leyton didn’t feel like anything more than part of the family. He felt at home. His best friend since the seventh grade, Max Adorite was more like a brother to Leyton than a mere friend or an employer. He respected Max more than anyone he’d ever met and owed his life to the man.

The door opened, allowing them entry, and Leyton nodded at Dane. Until recently, Leyton had lived in the same house with Max. In fact, Leyton had been living in the same house as Max since he was sixteen years old and Max had taken him in. Once Max had moved out of his parents’ house, Leyton had followed, moving into the official role as Max’s right hand and never looking back.

He would’ve been content with that position, too, but the Adorites had had other plans for him. Once Leyton had become underboss, Max had insisted he get his own place, and Leyton hadn’t argued.