Destructive King

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Destructive King Page 21

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “Nah, just my soul, my mind’s extremely safe,” I joked.

  He tipped the drink back. “You don’t mean to start a war, but you could, couldn’t you?”

  Guilt pounded into me. “Quite easily.”

  “Peace is dangerous.”

  “More so than war.” I sighed. “And all my cards are finally on the table. Let everyone know the truth of my sins—of his. Let them know how far we’ll go to protect our own. And in the end, anyone who’s stupid enough, greedy enough, to want our kids—will burn in hell.”

  He clinked his glass against mine. “It’s a gamble.”

  “I never gamble, Phoenix. I merely win.”

  “Cocky bastard.”

  I lifted my glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Death is certain. Life is uncertain.”—English Proverb

  Annie

  I spent most of the next day wondering if I should go smack Ash in the face or beg him to do it again.

  My emotions warred with each other, and I felt weird asking Izzy or Serena for any sort of advice—we were all so different; the only one I was maybe a little bit like was Violet, but since Valerian was a boss, they were staying at their own compound with a bunch of super scary looking Russians.

  Which left me…

  Kartini.

  The girl who snuck her vape pen past her dad and was right now taking a few drags before stripping completely naked and putting on her dress for the party.

  I glanced away. “Is that a tattoo?”

  “Which one?” She asked in what seemed like a bored voice.

  What had happened to her?

  I mean no judgment, but before I left for Italy, she was dancing on her dad’s shoes and looking up at him with stars in her eyes. She was the gorgeous teen who had the world and every guy her age hanging on her every word.

  And now?

  Now she had streaks of blue in her hair.

  Tattoo’s on her fingers.

  And she was getting high under the watchful eye of all the bosses who were already stressed out enough as it was. Nothing made sense, and again, no judgment, you do you and all that, but still.

  It seemed so out of character.

  And her parents adored her.

  Indulged her.

  Maybe that was the problem?

  “Hellooooo.” Kartini popped up in my line of vision with an amused expression, her pupils large. “You sure you’re not the one high right now?”

  I gave my head a shake. “Sorry, just thinking about tonight.”

  She crossed her little arms and snorted. “Why? You think you’re going to get lucky?”

  “No!” I all but yelled and then. “I mean, why would I think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because of a certain cousin of mine…” She twirled her hair and then pulled a tight white body con dress over her little body. “…ate more Annie than pizza last night if you get my drift.” She winked.

  “Huh?” I played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She cackled out a laugh then threw a brush at my face. I ducked just in time while she wagged her finger back and forth, her nails long, pointed, black. “Nope, you can’t pull that shit with me. Hell, it would have been better if anyone else would have seen you guys, any of the girls would have had that entire scene on lockdown, but King and Maksim?” She examined her nails. “You may as well have had two pre-teen girls spying on who held hands with who during skate night.”

  “Skate night?” I frowned.

  She snapped her fingers. “Keep up. It happened. I’m sure it was magical, and as much as Ash’s tongue anywhere near my person makes me want to barf until I die—I can at least admit that he’s hot—but pretty much all Abandonatos are.” She put her hands on her hips as if to say, exhibit A. “So,” she began as she plopped down on the bed. “Is that what you’re wearing after one of the most notorious bad boys to ever walk the streets of Eagle Elite University had his head between your thighs less than twenty-four hours ago?”

  I opened my mouth, then shut it. “It’s cute.” I self-consciously tugged at the simple black turtleneck sweater dress. It was form-fitting, and it was frigid outside, so I figured it worked, plus I looked good in black… Or so I thought until Kartini made a face that pretty much made me feel like a nun—and not a hot sexually repressed one, but one who thumped people over the head with Bibles and lost her virginity at the ripe old age of fifty after one wild night at the local biker bar.

  “Whoa.” Kartini laughed. “That a fantasy of yours or what?”

  “I said that out loud?”

  “Sadly, yes.” She wrinkled her nose. “My ears might never recover. I think my ovaries are sad now. Is that what it means when your stomach hurts really low, and you taste metal in your mouth?”

  “What? No!” I rolled my eyes. “Never mind. Yes, this is what I was planning on wearing.” I was tempted to do a little twirl but restrained myself at her horrified look.

  “No.” She shook her head, stood, slowly walked around me. “No.” And then. “SERENA!”

  “Shhhh!” I clapped a hand over her mouth, just as Serena magically appeared at the door with Izzy.

  Both of them stared.

  Longer than I would have liked.

  Kartini pointed. “Can she wear that after last night?”

  “No,” they said in unison, then both started talking at once.

  “I mean, it’s Ash; you can’t just wear a turtleneck after Ash!” Serena proclaimed.

  “It’s like wrapping yourself in a really sad, sad blanket with no hopes of ever being naked again. Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot, but I digress—it’s Ash.” Izzy nodded.

  “Ash.” Kartini shrugged. “I rest my case.”

  I ground my teeth and counted to three. “Fine, it’s Ash, whatever that means.” They gasped.

  “That’s why he likes her.” Serena beamed. “All right, strip out of that nice sweater dress my grandma got me for Christmas when I was in the sixth grade, and I’ll be back with something that will make Ash want to set anyone on fire who looks at you, breathes within ten feet of you, basically any male or female that has eyes.”

  “It’s really all I ask.” Kartini yawned.

  I didn’t know how it happened.

  One minute I was clothed.

  The next, I was naked, and three sets of hands were tugging at my hair, my clothes, extremely tall pumps with red bottoms were slid onto my feet, and then I was getting shoved out the door.

  I never got a chance to see what I looked like.

  All I felt was heavier makeup than usual.

  Tall like a baby giraffe when all I wanted was to look like a gazelle.

  And I could barely breathe.

  They’d somehow shoved my size eight short little body into a short white cocktail dress that had literally no back and a plunging neckline down the front that required copious amounts of double-sided tape and showed a serious amount of side boob.

  A gold necklace dangled between said boobs.

  And a tan faux fur jacket was dangled on my shoulders.

  “It’s time!” Serena grinned once I was shuffled into the kitchen, and we somehow went from Fashion Barbie playtime to Military Barbie boot camp as each of the girls hiked up their skirts and started packing in multiple utility knives, small guns, needles—I didn’t even ask because I was too busy gaping.

  Serena kicked up her leg across Junior’s lap as he hiked something smoothly up her thigh and then strapped another gun between her thighs.

  “Thanks baby.” Serena air kissed him.

  “I live to serve.” He grinned but didn’t even look up from loading his gun. King and Maksim were in the corner, basically doing the same. Kartini and Izzy finished in record time while Serena yawned and then stretched her arms over her head, gaining Junior’s full attention. “Ready for our engagement party?”

  His eyes zeroed in on her mouth. “Ready to get naked later?”<
br />
  “Always.”

  “Can’t un-hear this…” Maksim said from the corner.

  Izzy glared. “I’ll be happy to take care of that problem for you.”

  “What?” He frowned. “What problem?”

  “Your ears.” She made a slicing motion. “I’m positive I can make a clean cut on both sides of your ginormous head—amazing, you’d think your brain would be bigger.”

  He flipped her off. “Tell me again, what’s bigger, Izzy?”

  “OKAY!” Junior jumped to his feet. “Ash is already outside waiting. Word of warning, he’s pissed; nobody knows why he’s pissed.” Almost all eyes turned to me, great. “But he is, and we need him focused, so try not to turn into his target practice on the way to the hotel. Everyone but Annie, hop into the Rover, and Annie, I mean it, he’s in the zone, don’t take it personally.”

  My chest tightened a bit. “That’s okay. I think I’m used to his legendary mood swings by now.”

  “You’re sure?” Junior’s eyes flickered with something that almost looked like sadness, gutting me a bit, telling me everything I needed to know about my car ride.

  Why did I even get ready?

  Why was I even trying?

  It would always be like this.

  This push and pull.

  This need for me to go to him when he always told me to run.

  Stupid.

  I was seriously so stupid.

  I needed to move.

  It was the only option.

  Any one of the bosses would take me in—I’d be safe anywhere, right?

  Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, though? I wondered as I made my way outside to his waiting Tesla.

  Maybe I was the exception? Not the rule? Hah, said every girl out there when they think they can change the hot guy who has no morals.

  My heels clicked against the concrete as I walked toward him. Ash looked like something out of a magazine. Tall, dark, handsome—lethal. How many weapons did he have under that perfectly tailored black suit?

  He wasn’t wearing a tie, which meant his chest tattoos were on full view as I took careful steps toward him. The last thing I needed to do was trip in my heels and skin both knees.

  His aviators hid his eyes from me.

  And I hated that I’d turned into the exact girl that needed to see the guy check her out—see his eyes dilate with pleasure.

  I gripped the faux snakeskin clutch in my right hand and forced a smile. “Ready?”

  The only movement he made was the slight tick in his jaw; his hands were still shoved in his pockets, his body relaxed and yet tense. “Who dressed you?”

  “Wow.” I gritted my teeth. “You look nice too, thanks. Oh, what was that? You’ll get the door for me?”

  He still didn’t move.

  After multiple curses under his breath that had me blushing in embarrassment, he pushed away from the car and jerked open the door in one fluid movement. “Get in.”

  A year ago, I think I would have started to cry all over again, or at least felt the burn behind my eyes.

  But tonight?

  I was pissed.

  Because I could see where he’d taken me against the grass, where he’d chased me, just like I could envision the pool where we nearly had sex but never finished. Or his bedroom. His bathroom.

  I could count on both hands the amounts of times he’d given me this exact expression, only to act on it then blame me afterward as if I was some succubus out to lure him into my web of sex and pain.

  The engine didn’t roar to life when he got in. He simply pulled out of his driveway and never once looked in my direction or tried to make small talk or even say, “Hey, last night was weird, am I right?”

  Instead, he drove.

  I sat, painfully aware of my own breathing and of the tight dress.

  I should have worn the stupid sweater dress.

  Then again, how dare he make me feel like a whore! It was for him! Only ever for him, and he couldn’t even smile?

  The drive downtown was short, maybe sixteen minutes, and with each passing second, I got more and more angry to the point that all I could focus on was strangling him or just knocking that perfect smile off his face and stepping on his sunglasses, kicking off my heels and running in the opposite direction.

  Ash pulled the car aggressively into the Regis while I pulled out my phone and sent off a text that may as well be a breakup.

  Then again, like everyone said.

  All I’d had was his face between my thighs.

  His heart?

  He’d buried that a long time ago, in a grave next to the church he built for the only girl to ever hold it.

  And it was time.

  That I finally let him go, just like I had her.

  Me: Can you arrange for me to live somewhere else?

  Chase: …Are you sure that’s what you want?

  “Annie!” Ash snapped his fingers. “We gotta go, stop snapchatting for like two seconds, all right? There’s photographers, and I have an image to uphold.”

  I reared back like I was staring at a monster.

  And without thinking twice, deleted the NO.

  And as I slowly got out of the car looked down and typed YES.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us, while we live.” —Normal Cousins

  Ash

  My focus was complete shit.

  I’d nearly blacked out when she walked toward me in that dress. I’d never been so damn thankful for sunglasses to steel my expression. Her hips, breasts, and even more so, the brave face she wore reminded me that she was trying to be strong in a world that preyed on the weak. She was beautiful. Brave. Stunning. And she hated me.

  “Remember,” Dad had reminded me again that morning. “Your cruelty has to sell this, Ash. It has to be believable. Every reaction she has, every moment anyone’s watching the hurt in her eyes, the chaos in yours, they’ll see weakness, they’ll approach her—you, either or. You protect your cousins at all cost, and in this little sting, you take the fall. You wanted to be their King—now prove you can rule.”

  “I won’t let you down, sir.” I held my head high all day. This was my chance to prove to the bosses I could take down our enemies without bloodshed, using my cousins as bait—I’d earn my reputation as ruthless—and I’d outsmart even the most genius enemy.

  I’d almost been cocky about it.

  Until I saw the dress.

  Until I saw the hurt in her eyes.

  Until I noticed the way she tried to tug her dress down like it was indecent—which it was, but only because I was so distracted.

  I almost missed the hotel valet completely, then really did snap when I saw Annie texting.

  Was it Tank?

  Had he seen her yet?

  Fuck!

  I hadn’t meant to be short with her, I just—I felt like I’d been on the edge of this cliff, waiting to fall for her waiting for some sort of heavenly permission to feel again, and now something snapped in me.

  It felt right.

  And yet, the timing was all wrong when it shouldn’t have been.

  Had I earned her trust—really earned it, she’d know this was a ruse, that there was more, so much more than the surface, than the parts we played.

  But she’d been in Italy.

  And I’d been a giant dick ninety-nine percent of the time drowning so heavily in my own pain that I never got a chance to tell her.

  This was the job.

  My job.

  I wasn’t just the assassin; I was the arrogant son of a bitch son to Chase Abandonato; I had the world at my fingertips—and expected my subjects to bow.

  Because the only thing worse than showing weakness.

  Is showing strength.

  It makes your enemies that much more angry and willing to take you down at any cost—even if it meant their own lives.

  I tossed my key to the valet and then pulled a crisp hundr
ed dollar bill out of my pocket and shoved it into his hand. Then I patted him on the cheek. “There’s more where that came from.”

  As promised, the press was waiting outside the main doors to the lobby. I wrapped an arm around a tense Annie and grinned at them. “Just can’t stay away from me, can you?” I kissed the top of Annie’s head. “Guess our secrets out then, huh sweetheart?”

  Her stunned expression was priceless. Had I not been sick to my stomach over the way I was treating her, I might laugh.

  I waved my hand away. “Sorry guys, private party tonight, no press.”

  “Ash!” A woman yelled my name. “Who’s the girl? Is it too soon after your girlfriend’s death? It’s only been over a year!”

  Annie tensed, then clung to me like I was her human shield.

  “Too soon?” I snorted. “It’s never too soon to fuck.” I squeezed Annie tight and kissed her neck. Her shocked expression was absolute kryptonite for the cameras as they fired off and started lobbing more questions at us than I could answer.

  I slid my hand down to her ass only to have her elbow me in the gut. I laughed and gave her a stern look, then continued walking her into the private restaurant we’d blocked off for the night.

  Champagne was flowing.

  Quite literally coming from a champagne tower down the middle. A giant black and white cake sat over next to the bar where associates and our “friends” walked around and toasted to the mafia queen.

  Serena had a black crown on.

  It fit her well.

  And how Junior was able to be wearing all black while carrying around a red scepter that doubled as a blade was beyond me.

  The theme was gothic chic.

  And they worked the crowd like they’ve always done at Eagle Elite.

  Make them want.

  Make them crave.

  Make them bow.

  Mere mortals didn’t hold a candle to our influence, money, power, and just being in that room meant you had a chance.

  Small.

  But it was there.

  You were rubbing shoulders with us.

  The excitement in the room was like a drug as the music picked up in the background, Kaleo, Way Down We Go pumped through the system.

  I took a glass of champagne and downed it, remembering my dad’s two drink rule. The rest of the night, I’d have tonic and lime and appear to be drunk.

 

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