Savage King

by V. L. Silva

  Then Charlie would have a meltdown and declare a free-for-all by playing Aerosmith for the next hour.

  Amanda was right about the sweater. It could probably get away with a “Baby One More Time” schoolgirl look.

  “Besides, the sweater can be hot if paired with a schoolgirl skirt,” Amanda added, proving we were on the same wavelength as always.

  I laughed. Amanda was just as virginal as me. In fact, I’d probably gone a little further than her when Axel rubbed me through my panties.

  My cheeks heated. I hadn’t told her what happened because I felt a little guilty. Aside from obsessing over a complete asshole and letting him get to second base with me, I wasn’t ashamed by what had happened. It was just… I’d always feigned interest in dating in the past. Yeah, there’d been a few guys who I’d found attractive, but Amanda said I walked the straight and narrow. I was the dream daughter. Nothing had ever been more important than my goals and aspirations.

  I’d never allowed boys to slow me down. Between my grades and extracurricular activities, I really hadn’t had the time for dating and I’d encouraged Amanda to do the same.

  Amanda was a love junkie and as boy crazy as they came. She called me her voice of reason, but nothing about Axel or my feelings for him made sense. Admitting the possibility that I’d gone a little crazy over a guy was more than I was willing to do.

  Besides, the small amount of interest I had in Axel was dead and gone. Why bring up the past now? There was no point. I was moving on in every way.

  I took her hand. “Did anyone miss me?”

  “Everyone misses you! I’m so glad you’re coming back. It just wasn’t the same.”

  I’m sure she had a good day. Our friends are really great.

  I shook my head. “What a waste of time and energy.”

  “Hey, at least it’s over.” She stood and dragged me up with her. “Go get ready. I want to catch the next train.”

  I went to my room, changed into a pair of cuffed jean shorts and a shirt with pastel stripes and a white collar. I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and finished the look with a pink scrunchie.

  Finished, I locked my door.

  Once we boarded the train Amanda filled me in on what everyone at school was up to.

  I found myself looking forward to my return as the minutes ticked by. I thought about the clubs I’d get into and the positions that were still open on the public relations team for campus news. I was excited and genuinely happy by the time we got off the train.

  I hadn’t been alive during the nineties and could barely remember the early two thousands, but had binge watching Smallville—because Amanda liked comics and I thought Tom Welling was one of the hottest guys to ever grace a camera—had given me a sense of nostalgia that I felt whenever I walked into Greener Day.

  Worn wooden floors, an arcade, and postures from movies like Independence Day and The Green Mile teleported everyone back in time.

  Ashley was working the hostess booth in a Clueless ensemble. “Hey, hey! How was your first day at Barnet?” She slipped into a British accent whenever she said my new school’s name.

  My former school’s name.

  “It sucked. I’m not going back.”

  “Oh no.” She pouted.

  Her twin sister Amber came up. She was dressed in baggy jeans, a white shirt, and a cool African print button-up that she’d left open. She’d curled her bangs and wore a neon green scrunchie in her hair.

  Amber wasn’t dressing for work. This was just the way Amber dressed. Thanks to their older brother, she loved everything about the nineties. In fact, Chris had caught Amber picking up Ashley one day in her Fresh Prince of Bel-Air attire and forced her to fill out an application immediately.

  Ashley and Amber were identical in only looks. Ashley preferred skirts and Amber would rather die than be caught in one. Ashley, after working for Greener Day, had adopted Stacy Dash’s Dionne Davenport look all the way. She modeled the style on Instagram and had a pretty big following. She was gorgeous and she knew it.

  “What’s up?” Amber asked.

  “Hope had a bad day,” Ashley told her.

  I shook my head. “Yeah, the students were pretty mean but I’m over it. I’m going back to West University.”

  “Good for you,” Ashley said. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that mess. Do whatever makes you happy.”

  My smile grew. “Thanks.” I glanced over at Amber. She was sizing me up before she made an uncommitted sound.

  “We better clock in before Chris sees us hanging out.” I wanted to know what she was thinking but I also knew she was right. It was time to get to work.

  Green Day was always slammed in the evening. Families came in because of its relaxed atmosphere. Teens and college students came in because the prices were good. The old-school feeling helped keep costs down. The place had literally been decorated from Chris’s old room at his parents’ house and the thrift store. Who’d have thought an old VHS player would become a piece of art?

  The most costly section of the restaurant was the arcade, but people paid big money for the entertainment. Every laugh I shared with one of my regulars or a child I got to smile washed more of the bad taste of the day away. Before long, I was in my element and floating from one table to another.

  Then I caught the TV.

  Axel. He was at a press conference. He looked great in a suit…the monster.

  I couldn’t hear anything he was saying because of the music but I saw the words at the bottom of the screen.

  Axel King taking first steps to fill father’s place at Peart Pharmaceuticals.

  During my break, I’d taken a moment to read up on the Marina Maiden Massacre. Three heiresses had been poisoned but it was actually four women who died. Carolyn hadn’t mentioned the cook that had been on board. Antonia Rio-Parson. Like Carolyn, most of the news sites didn’t mention her, as if her death wasn’t just as important. According to one news outlet, Mrs. Rio-Parson had been an up-and-coming chef and one of Claire King’s favorite chefs.

  The King family had promised her a restaurant. Now, she was gone.

  All the women had left children behind with sons around the same age. Their names weren’t mentioned but I knew Axel was one of them.

  I wondered what the story on the news meant. I remembered Axel saying he didn’t have time for me but shook my head. It didn’t matter. When I thought about my own mother I admitted that I felt some pity for him. Maybe that was why he was so cold. Everyone needed a mother’s love.

  By the time my own mother came in I forgot about Axel.

  I told the kitchen to prepare her a burger the moment after she stepped through the door.

  There hadn’t been any vegan options on the menu until I started here three years ago. My mom had complained to Chris so much that he’d gone to the grocery store, bought the first bean burger box he could find, and upcharged her for having it prepared separately on the grill.

  The next week, mom brought her vegan friends and the Wannabe became a staple. Since then, a few more vegan options had been added but the burger was Janie Malonie’s go-to.

  I hugged her before she sat down in my area of the restaurant, towards the back.

  “How was school?”

  I couldn’t wait for tomorrow. The next time someone asked me that question I’d be able to say, “It was the best day of my life!” But today, I’d been a student at Barnet, so it was trash. “It was trash.”

  “Oh no, sweetie.” Mom took my hand. Her blue eyes looked troubled. “What happened?”

  “I’ll be right back.” I took drinks to a table that had been waiting for them and then returned to my mom. “The big kids were mean to me.” I meant it as a joke, but it was the truth and my mom saw it for what it was.

  “Should I say something to the school?”

  “Nope. I’m going back to West U.” I said it with finality so my mom knew I was serious.

  “Are you sure?” Mom asked with a slight pout.
“It seemed like such a great school.” I knew why Mom liked it. She’d seen quinoa and tofu on the menu and considered enrolling herself.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Don’t you feel like you’re quitting?”

  “Yes, but it won’t affect my long-term goals.” And that was the only thing that mattered. So long as I could still achieve my goals I would be fine. “My grades are good. Hopefully I can convince the school to give me back the scholarships I’d earned. If not, I’ll take out a loan and apply again next year.” It was a complication but a small one in the grand scheme of things.

  Mom nodded but her eyes were still tight. “Just as long as you’re sure.”

  I left her to see to my other tables. Thirty minutes later I noticed the worry on her face had remained. She was staring at me but not really seeing me. I walked back over. “Are you all right?”

  Mom nodded and then brightened. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  I didn’t believe her. “What’s going on? How’s Paul?”

  Paul was Mom’s friend. Mom’s very close friend. “He’s fine.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry about me. I just have work and stuff on my mind.”

  “Are you going to lose your job?”

  “What?” Her eyes rounded. “No.” She laughed at the thought and I believed her. “No, Hope. You know that office loves me.” Mom was a paralegal. She’d started out as the secretary at the law office but had caught on the work and eventually taken over when another paralegal left.

  Mom was right. The office did love her, especially because she made them those chocolate chip cookies that melted in their mouths.

  Thinking of cookies put Axel front and center in my mind.

  I glanced around to make sure he hadn’t caught me thinking about him.

  I was losing my mind. Going back to Barnet wasn’t an option.

  6

  Axel

  Someone had turned on classical music and champagne was brought up by the wait staff. They stood in the shadows, waiting for their cue to step into the light and walk around the room that was crowded with some of California’s most powerful people. There was money in the room. More money than most could count.

  The one percent.

  I knew their names. But the most important people were in the front of the auditorium. I shook the hands of the people who approached me and smiled. They were the board members of my father’s company. My company now.

  I knew these people well, and not from conventional methods. We weren’t friends. I didn’t have any friends. Instead, I had allies, people I trusted for the moment, and those people have given me everything I needed to know about the twelve people who’d helped organize the press conference.

  I knew their hobbies. I knew their spouses and their spouses’ hobbies. I knew who was screwing who both physically and mentally. I knew their favorite color, the flavor of ice cream they preferred…

  I knew what made them tick.

  I’d spent years gathering information and enough dirt to bury them underneath an avalanche of their own making if I needed to.

  But I didn’t need to bury them. Not all of them anyway.

  Just the Judas of the twelve.

  Camera flashes and shouts from reporters clouded my senses so I tuned everything out and focused on my plan.

  I was twenty-one and finally coming into my inheritance.

  The people who stood closest to me feared me and I liked that. Their weary expressions made me smile.

  “Your father would be so proud of you,” someone said. Mrs. Crawford. She was a busybody, a gossip, and nothing made her lips move faster than a glass of Napa Sauvignon Blanc.

  I’d hired someone to bleed her dry. Originally, she’d thrown my father under the bus like the rest of the board, but then she’d been one of the first to retract the idea that my father was a murderer long before my ascension to the pharmaceutical empire.

  She’d brought up memories of my family’s holiday parties. She remembered how my father would get tripped up at the sound of my mother’s laugh. Married for over ten years and they’d still been madly in love.

  Mrs. Crawford said that if my father had killed my mother, he’d have been more personal about it. He’d have stabbed her or choked her to death. It would have been gruesome.

  And she was right. Poison was a tool used by the weak, and Aric King wasn’t a weak man.

  As the crowd grew thicker the scent of a floral perfume tickled my nose. Memories poured into my mind. Wildflowers. Freshly cut grass. Stunning hazel eyes.

  My thoughts turned to Hope.

  I wanted to choke her. I wanted to squeeze her little throat and sip the last of her breath from her lips. The girl had me in a constant state of madness. I was so busy trying to figure her out that I quickly lost track of my priority.

  Finding my mother’s killer.

  Snuffing out the Judas would remain my priority until the job was done.

  You would think after three years of plotting that everything would go according to plan. That was not so, thanks to Hope.

  On paper, the girl had looked simple enough but then she’d gone and shattered my world with a smile.

  As a matter of fact, I didn’t like surprises but it seemed surprises were all Hope was. Her presence had ignited something in my blood. Anger. Hunger.

  She vexed me.

  She aroused me.

  I was frustrated and horny.

  From the spy browser I had on her online activity, I knew she was planning to defy me. She’d re-enrolled in West University and had googled how to transfer her financial aid.

  From her searching I also knew she was curious about me. She’d looked up my image and the log said she’d stared at each photo of me for at least thirty seconds before moving on.

  Come tomorrow, she was going to learn so much more about me, mainly my need for her cooperation.

  I considered calling her, warning her against what she planned to do. She didn’t know I had her number but I did, and perhaps giving her that knowledge would help her make the right choice.

  If only I wanted her to make the right choice. If only I wasn’t waiting for her to slip up so she could give me another reason to slip my hand between her thighs.

  “Had the board known what you had planned earlier, we would have invited you to the table years ago.” Mr. Michaels cocked his grin to the side. “I want to know everything about these revolutionary test modules you spoke about.”

  The announcement of inheritance included mentioning the team of advisors I’d been working with to secure the favor of the board.

  Rome Ellis’s mother had owned a technology firm. He and his older brother Paris had helped me create systems that could speed up the testing process for various illnesses.

  Silas’s father owned one of America’s top security firms and I planned on replacing the one Peart Pharmaceuticals was currently using with his.

  Alan’s sisters had picked up where his mother had left off and had just finished culinary school. Peart Pharmaceuticals’ campus had its own eatery that overlooked the water and was open to the public.

  I planned to renovate it and give it to his family to run.

  Not only did my announcement make the board understand that I planned to have eyes and ears everywhere in my company, but I was letting the world know that the four victims of the Marine Maiden Massacre had joined forces and would take down their enemies.

  Mr. White joined us. He was the oldest member of the board with white, bushy brows and a round gut. He narrowed his eyes. “You brought up some interesting concepts, Axel. Tell me, do you have a moment to talk about security?”

  “I’ll say more at the board meeting tomorrow.”

  Mr. White got closer. “No, I want to speak to you about it right now. You can’t just come in here and make changes. We had contracts.”

  Mr. Michaels grabbed his shoulder. “White, calm down.”

  “No,” White hissed, unbothered by the fact that he was making a scene. “We
had contracts. Are we to tell our partners that our word means nothing?”

  “Tell your partners whatever you want,” I said. “But Revel Security will be taking over. New cameras and personnel will be installed during the corporate trip to Hawaii.” And the trip was mandatory. I wasn’t going but the rest of the executives would along with their personal staff. The staff in headquarters would be getting the time off, all paid for by me. I didn’t want any eyes in the building when I gutted it of its old systems.

  I was bugging everything.

  White paled. It was ironic. “You’re firing the security teams?”

  “That’s how new security works, Mr. White. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  White grabbed my shoulder.

  It happened in a blink.

  I grabbed his wrist, turned him, and twisted his hand behind his back.

  He gasped. I jacked the arm up a little higher and heard his whimper of pain. A little further up and I could make that pain excruciating.

  Mr. Michaels moved beside me. “You’re making a scene.”

  The voices had quieted to whispers. White was panting and turning red. “I don’t like to be touched.”

  “White won’t touch you again.” Michaels lifted his voice so White could hear him. “Isn’t that right?”

  “You’re a fucking kid,” White winced. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “Axel,” Aunt Brigit called. In her sharp Swedish accent, she was probably the only person who said my name right. She stopped about a half-foot away and took in the scene. The woman was only an inch or two under my height. “Let Mr. White go.” Then she bent forward and whispered in my ear. “Or break his arm. He’s been getting on my nerves as of late.”

  She could be just as blood thirsty as me sometimes.

  I let White go and looked at my aunt. She was a golden bombshell who some had assumed would go into modeling. Instead, she’d gone into the corporate world and had been manning Peart in my absence. Other medical executives had tried to take advantage of my aunt’s fragile state after her brother had been accused of murder or the fact that she wasn’t American, but she’d announced her reign as queen of the pharmaceutical empire and had everyone bending the knee by the end of her first term as CEO.