Taking Flight: Devereux Brothers, #2

By D.G. Whiskey

Handsome. Wealthy. Famous.

Derek Devereux is a larger-than-life figure, a billionaire socialite whose influence dominates Los Angeles. He and his brothers have captivated the country since they emerged from anonymity. 

The Devereux brothers have a secret—no one knows where their wealth came from. The investigative journalist Sara Flight is determined to find out and uses her skills to sneak into a Hollywood party and meet Derek. He’s even more impressive than she’d imagined, and she is forced to walk a delicate balance between investigating the billionaire without his knowledge and dating him.

When a large knife is thrust through her front door with an ominous warning pinned underneath, Sara suspects her mysterious billionaire is more dangerous than she realizes. Can she uncover the mysteries of the man she's falling for… or will her desire for the truth only endanger them both?

Taking Flight is the second of the Devereux Novels. Stephen's story was told in Capturing Liberty. The book can be read standalone as the main romantic and suspense plots are self-contained with no cliffhangers. The overall Devereux story arc continues to the next novel.

This novel contains mature content such as sex and violence and is intended for adult readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.G. Whiskey
• Release date: Oct 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536597233

Book preview

1

~ Sara ~

Y our new assignment is Derek Devereux.

Sara’s heart pulsed in a staccato rhythm at the sound of the name. Despite her disdain for the work, the mystery inherent in the name, the man, was undeniable.

Still, she refused to back down.

I will not descend to this level, she said, crossing her arms over her chest. It is pandering, insulting, and I won’t do it.

Ron Scardy leaned back in his worn leather chair. His dark brown eyes, eerily close to black, stared at her as he chewed gum and twisted an object round and round in his hands. He shifted forward and set it down on the desk.

In elegant font, the words Ron Scardy, Editor-in-Chief were embossed on the front of the nameplate. Sara felt bile rising in the back of her throat at the sight.

I’m afraid that’s not in your power anymore, Miss Flight. His voice took special delight in emphasizing the Miss. The paper is struggling, and that’s why the executive board brought me in. I know how to move copies, and it’s not with some shit about starving kids that no one gives two flying fucks about.

His words were like a physical blow, and Sara’s breath fled in outrage. How dare you, she hissed. That report saved lives! It brought attention to a pressing humanitarian issue and won awards. That was true journalism, not celebrity gossip drivel.

It was the last piece that Michael ever… Sara stopped the thought before she let it choke her up. Now was not the time to go to pieces.

The only thing that matters is what sells. End of story. You want to save the world, you do it on your own time, you got it? He pointed a stubby finger across the desk at her. From now on, your expense account had better only ever be used chasing down the stories I tell you to write, not whatever flight of fancy catches your interest.

She set her jaw. She wouldn’t win this fight.

So what, you want me to report on Derek Devereux’s latest fling, or which parties he’s attending? Is that the best use of an investigative journalist? You could get a teeny bopper right out of school who would be more than thrilled to go down to L.A. and follow around some big shot. The more she thought about it, the more insulted she felt. Hell, you don’t even need to send someone, you can just take a look at what every tabloid in the country prints out daily. How the hell do you expect to sell more copies by being exactly like everyone else?

Ron’s expression changed from indolent swine to savage predator in a heartbeat. Sara was already wary of him based on his reputation, but this was the first time she saw for herself how shrewd and calculating he could be.

You aren’t going down there to report on what he does, Ron said. "You are going to find out who he is."

He said it in such a self-satisfied way that Sara almost let herself be intrigued. What do you mean?

He scoffed. What, an excellent journalist such as yourself doesn’t know the big deal about one of the most famous men in the country? On second thought, maybe you aren’t worth sending.

Just keep calm, Sara. Don’t let him get your hackles up. It was too late for that.

Just because I don’t follow celebrity gossip, I’m a bad journalist? Get your head out of your ass, Ron. Sara delighted at the dark look that crossed his face.

The large man leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk. "No one, and I mean no one, he paused for greater effect, knows how the Devereux brothers got to be so rich, or why they appeared out of nowhere."

That makes no sense.

What do you mean? Nobody has secrets like that. Sara stared back, dumbfounded.

Precisely. Think about it. Had you ever heard of the Devereux brothers before two years ago?

Sara winced at the mention of two years, but she didn’t even need to think about it to answer the question; she hadn’t paid attention to much of anything since the accident. She shook her head.

No one has. And yet they turned up on the scene, spending massive amounts of money, entertaining the rich and famous, mingling with the most powerful people in the country. Do you know Derek’s older brother, Evan, had dinner with the president last week?

Are you serious? Sara’s mouth dropped. Evan Devereux met with the president? What did they talk about?

No one knows. Ron grinned a greasy smile, seeing she’d taken his bait. She was hooked. It was very hush hush. I’m one of the few people in the world who even knows it happened.

So you’re telling me the Devereux brothers wield that much power and influence over the country, and we don’t even know how or why?

It was a legitimate mystery. Sara loved mysteries—it was why she’d chosen this career path and fought tooth and nail to be successful.

2

~ Derek ~

I t wasn’t an accident . Evan’s eyes were too intense for Derek to meet comfortably. I know it, Derek. I know you think I’m crazy, but it has to be the truth. I feel it in my gut, in my soul.

Derek sighed. Evan had floated the theory to them before, but none of his brothers wanted to entertain the notion. It was a lot easier and cleaner to believe everything had happened the way they’d been told.

What’s changed from before, then? You were about ready to give it up last time we’d talked, Derek said.

His brother turned away from him, pacing to the window of Derek’s living room. A striking yard led to the sight of the distant Californian coast.

That’s why I’m here. There have been… accidents. Little things here or there, but if any of them had gone differently then I might have been seriously hurt, or killed.

Unease filled Derek. Aside from the one conspiracy theory about their father, Evan wasn’t prone to jumping at shadows. What kind of accidents, Evan?

The slightly taller, older version of himself turned back to face him. The only real difference between them was in the way they dressed; Evan’s comfortable jeans and sweater to Derek’s refined and crisply pressed suit. Nothing major, he said. It might be nothing, but I’m worried I’ve attracted the interest of parties who aren’t too keen on the way we’ve introduced ourselves to the country. We might have made a mistake doing things the way we did. Maybe Father had it right all along—it’s better to hide in the shadows where no one knows your name.

Derek bristled. Don’t even say that, he snapped. Father had no idea what he was doing, what he was depriving us of! Not until the end, anyway. It was right there in his note. Oh, right—you don’t believe he wrote that, do you?

The muscle in Evan’s cheek jumped. You’ve let your lifestyle get to your head, Derek. You don’t have to pretend to be immortal in front of me, you know.

The two stood at odds for a few more seconds, and then Derek let his shoulders slump as Evan’s words sank in. I know. I’m sorry, Evan. We shouldn’t fight over things when we need to stay strong. Devferlife, right?

Evan grinned, an expression that lent him an air of boyish charm. Devferlife! Those were the days, weren’t they?

God, Father would have killed us if he knew what a mess we got into when we were younger. They shared a conspiratorial grin as though they still hid secrets from a watchful parental figure.

Oh, he had a clue, at least earlier on, before Mother… you know. Just as quickly as their conversation perked up, it grew dark once more. After that, I’m not sure how much he attention he paid us.

Derek grimaced, never comfortable with that topic of conversation. More to you than the rest of us. You were the oldest, his favorite. Heir to the empire he spent so much time building that he forgot to be a father.

Derek… Evan reached out to lay his hand on his brother’s arm. I’m sorry. I can’t change the past, and I wouldn’t know how to change it even if I could. He loved us all, but he forgot how to show it.

Derek brushed off his brother’s arm. I’m over it. That’s history now. Father’s gone, reunited with Mother, and we’re free to do whatever we want. If I choose to be the complete opposite of him, well, that’s my prerogative, isn’t it?

I just want you to be careful, Derek. I’m serious. You go chasing all these thrills, racing your cars and your planes, and doing anything you can to pump yourself full of adrenaline, but all it will take is one little slip and then you’re toast. Evan’s voice wavered. If someone is coming after us, they are incredibly subtle—so much so that I thought I was crazy for a long time. You wouldn’t believe how many close calls I had. There’s a certain point where you stop believing in coincidence.

Derek laughed. You sound a little crazy to me, Evan. Give up flying and driving? And what? You would rather I sit here in my ivory tower, locking myself away from living life because I’m scared of some nebulous accident happening?

Evan didn’t laugh. He shook his head slowly. You can joke around all you want, but all it would take is someone messing with your plane or car, and with the way you push things, you would do the rest yourself. And there would be no way I’d be able to prove it wasn’t an accident.

They stared at each other. The ghost of his experiences shadowed Evan’s eyes, but Derek couldn’t bring himself to reassure his brother.

Fine. But at least promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard. I know you think you’re perfect and could never make a mistake, but that’s the attitude that will get you into trouble. Evan stretched. I need to get going. I have a meeting on the east coast in the morning, so I’ll catch a snooze on the jet. Again.

I don’t know why you bother trying to get into the company, Derek said. It’s set up to run on its own. You know that. Father did all the hard work, and it’s for us to enjoy now. You saw how he ran himself into the ground, and for what? Don’t follow in his footsteps.

Evan nodded, ceding the point. One of us should try to at least understand what’s going on in that place. Being ignorant may be blissful, but it can also be the path to ruin.

Derek rolled his eyes. You were always overly dramatic. Must have been all those books Father made you read while we were younger. On second thought, I’m glad you were his favorite. I got to stay outside and play with whatever I wanted while you had to impress him with your vocabulary and dissertations.

They shared another brotherly grin, the jabs common ground to them after a lifetime of being the oldest two brothers in the family.

Oh, Evan said, Gary mentioned he wants to come down and visit you in a couple weeks. Take care of him, will you? I know you two are close, but keep in mind what I’ve said. I’ll stop in to see him and Stephen anyway, but they are younger and particularly vulnerable to feeling immortal. Even more than you, you buffoon.

3

~ Sara ~

R oomie ? I brought pizza home—oh! Becky stopped short at the sight of Sara sitting at the kitchen table, laptop opened and notes spread around her. What are you working on there?

Sara grinned at the surprise in her roommate’s voice. Becky usually came home to find her curled up in bed—barely moving, apathetic, and unwilling to talk. If Becky was lucky, she’d get thanks for whatever food she’d brought home.

Oh, you know, just doing work.

Work? Really? That’s fantastic, I haven’t seen you do any work since… well… Becky stumbled, unwilling to bring up the issue they’d mostly avoided talking about for the past two years. What spurred this on?

Sara took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. It’s time I dug into a story. Something to pull me ahead into the future instead of dwelling in the past. Lying there and thinking about how my life will never be great again hasn’t helped, so I’ll try this for a while.

Becky smiled. Oh, thank God, Sara. You sound great! I’ve been hoping to hear you say that for a couple years now, I’m so happy! She tossed the pizza box onto the counter and ran around the table with her arms out. Sara stood to meet her and they embraced. I’ll do anything you need to help you make your grand entry back into the world!

Was I really that awful? Sara winced. I’m sorry—I must have been a shitty friend for so long. I don’t understand how you stuck with me through everything.

Well… Becky cast her eyes down to the ground. To be honest, I love this apartment, and it’s not like I could just kick you out after what happened.

Sara’s stomach turned. My best friend only stuck with me through everything because she likes my apartment? Then she saw the sly grin on Becky’s face.

You bitch! She slapped her friend’s arm. I’m trying to apologize here, and you make me feel even shittier about it?

Becky laughed. Well, that’s what friends are for, right?

They chatted as they tore into the pizza. It was glorious, from one of the pizza meccas in Chicago—pizza the way it should be made, and people from other cities could go screw themselves if they thought otherwise.

So really though, what are all these notes about? Becky craned her neck to catch sight of what was on Sara’s screen. She shrieked. Derek Devereux? The biggest dreamboat in L.A.? What are you looking at him for? Please tell me this story you’re working on is all about how you go seduce him and have his babies.

Her friend’s enthusiasm was infectious. Don’t be gross, Beck! It was tough to deny how good looking he was. He’s the target of my next investigation.

Seriously? Becky’s voice betrayed her incredulity. I thought you hated celeb talk and everything to do with it. This is the reason you’ve come out of your self-imposed cocoon of self-pity?

Ouch. I guess I deserve that. But this story is more than just celebrity gossip, Beck. There are real mysteries to that family. I didn’t believe what Ron told me at the office, but I looked into it when I got home, and so many things either don’t add up or just plain can’t be found. I never thought someone could hide their history so thoroughly, let alone an entire family.

Mysteries, huh? Well, if anyone was born to solve a mystery, it was you, Sara. Does this mean you’re going to L.A.? Becky’s eyes lit up with her inevitable follow-up question burning to get out. Can I go with you? Please? Pretty please? This could be the opportunity I need for my fashion career to take off! I mean, Chicago’s nice, but L.A. would be way better for me right now.

How could she say no to those eager eyes? Luckily, it fell right into her plan. Yes. Becky jumped out of her chair to celebrate, but Sara raised her finger to head her off before she got too out of hand. On one condition!

Becky waited with her head cocked. One condition? I can do that. One condition is easy. What is it?

I can’t… Sara’s throat closed up as she tried to finish her sentence. Hot tears flooded her eyes. It was still hard to even think about, let alone say. I can’t fly. The words were a struggle, but she spit them out. We’ll have to drive it.

Becky’s expression shifted to gentle concern, her forehead creased as she came to sit next to Sara and wrap an arm around her. Hey, Sara, it’s all right. I understand. It’s still too soon, I get it. We don’t have to fly. I know it’s difficult.

No, it’s not just too soon. Sara said. I won’t be able to fly ever again. Michael… She couldn’t continue, but thankfully Becky didn’t expect more. She just wrapped her arms around her roommate and let her cry it out.

4

~ Derek ~

Ican’t believe I’m planning on doing this.

Derek strolled through the open doors into the bustling ballroom. Eyes and cameras followed his every move as he made his way through the press of people to grab a drink from the bar at the opposite side from the entrance.

Derek! There you are!

Oh, perfect. It was the commissioner, the last person Derek wanted to see. Evan’s warning had haunted him, and eventually he’d decided in favor of caution. The official opening gala for the air race season was the perfect place to announce his retirement from the exclusive and popular sport, but he didn’t intend on giving the commissioner the chance to talk him out of it before he could make his announcement.

Frederick! How good to see you. And you are looking smashing as usual, Sandra. He shook hands with the older man and submitted to the mandatory kiss on the cheek and too-close hug from his wife. You’ve outdone yourself with the season-opening festivities this year, Fred.

The commissioner waved his hands around, encompassing the rich atmosphere, opulent decorations and veritable galaxy of stars wandering around. Oh, this? Merely a small dinner party.

They laughed, but Derek couldn’t help but think that maybe it was an accurate statement from someone of Frederick’s stature. The air racing league was unlike any other sport in the country. The pilots were almost exclusively wealthy and competed not for winnings, but for the fun of it—it was a real boy’s club. When everyone involved had more money than God and infinite leisure, there weren’t many ways in which to prove one was better than everyone else, and the air races gave an avenue for that latent aggression and display of male dominance. Derek enjoyed emerging triumphant over the stuck-up bastards who raced against him.

Derek, I hope you are ready for an even bigger, better, more thrilling season than ever. You are our biggest star, you know, and the biggest draw. I know you don’t need the money, or the fame, but I can guarantee you never feel more alive than when you are fighting the G-forces and racing to get the record for fastest run, am I right?

At the sound of Frederick’s words, Derek itched to have the throttle in his hands while ensconced in his cockpit. For the whir of the engine and sweetly tuned roar as he took his plane through its paces and they ran the course as a perfect meld between man and machine.

It is… thrilling, you are correct, Derek said. But if you’ll excuse me, I have only just arrived and don’t want to ignore those who wish to talk with me. His language always grew more stilted and correct around Frederick, the result of new money brushing elbows with old money and attempting to blend in without too much notice.

Of course, of course, enjoy yourself. I wouldn’t want your admirers to be deprived of your absence for any longer than necessary! Frederick