Chapter 14 Kingston
KINGSTON
“So your little wifey plays the violin, huh?” Bronx says. “That could be hot. Like if she performed naked for you, yeah? In hooker heels? Fuck me.”
He nudges me with a low snicker. “Things were getting pretty steamy in that music room, am I right? I bet there’d have been a lot more singing than just that violin if I didn’t interrupt the two of you.”
I push back my hair as I stalk down the hallway. Then I shove him into my office. “Jesus Christ, Bronx. Forget about the violin.”
The door closes behind us with a click. It’s not until then that I turn to look at my brother.
“That meeting was completely fucked.” I stalk over to the window overlooking the twinkling lights of the Manhattan cityscape, my blood simmering as I recall the conversation…
or rather, their cryptic order. “There were three guys there at the estate, three members of the Tribunal waiting to pounce on me. Carlo Rossi, Conor Gallivan, and Giovanni Fiorentino. Senior members who are responsible for carrying out activities of the Tribunal.”
I pace the length of my office, flexing and unflexing my fingers, anger knotting in my chest.
“Cormac and Dad said Livvie and I had to play nice and put on a good front to show unity between the families, that they were indebted to the Tribunal because of their past actions. I figured it was just typical political bullshit. Another fucking business deal gone wrong that they couldn’t pay their way out of, so we had to get married. ”
I walk over to the stainless steel bar cart in the corner and pour myself a glass of Macallan 25. I swirl the amber-colored liquid around in the glass before gulping it down, letting the heat singe the sides of my throat.
“You’re going to prove your loyalty to us, Kingston.”
“This marriage isn’t a business deal between families,” I grunt. “It’s an initiation, meant to kill two birds with one stone. And I’m the stone.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” Bronx says.
“Bring us a sacrifice. Or die.”
I slowly raise my eyes to his puzzled ones. “This sham marriage was set up as a test, to see if I’m fit to be a member of the Red Tribunal, something required if I’m going to take over for Dad as boss. I can’t run Dad’s organization without being a member. That’s what they told me.”
“So what’s the initiation? You gotta dress in robes and drink mysterious shit from a cup? Or are they gonna brand you and then shave your head?” He smirks, fixing himself a drink.
“No,” I say. “They want me to kill a person of power.”
“Christ, that’s not too evasive.”
“Tell me about it.” Pulling my lips into a tight line, I walk over to my desk and pick up a file that Conor handed me before I left the estate.
“Gallivan gave this to me. It’s a mess of shit Cormac has pulled over the years, shit which has put him on the radar of the Tribunal.
” I scrape a hand down the front of my face.
“He wants me to give it to Livvie because he knew she’d ask what they wanted.
It’s supposed to turn her suspicion back to her father and away from me. God only knows what they have on Dad.”
“Shit,” Bronx mutters. “How could Dad not have told you any of this?”
I shrug. “I guess it’s part of the initiation process. I’m not supposed to talk about it, either. And if they find out you know anything, they might cut off your balls, so lock that shit up, got it?”
“Great. So what the hell happens next?” Bronx mutters under his breath. “Does some Grim Reaper show up with an envelope? The name of the person you’re supposed to kill?”
I drop into a dark cordovan leather recliner and collapse against the back. “I don’t fucking know. It’s not like they gave me instructions or anything. They said they’d be in touch. Very fucking cryptic.”
“So it could be anyone, huh?” Bronx puts down his glass and folds his arms over his chest. “Seems like you’ve got a decision to make. It should be easy. You’ve been groomed to take over from dad your whole life.”
I let out a deep sigh. “I don’t do things blindly.
You know that. There’s always a reason for every move I make.
But this… this feels shitty. Like I’m just supposed to be some hired gun to eliminate a target.
I don’t like anything about this, especially that some fucking old-ass yahoos are forcing my hand.
That’s not how I work. But the empire isn’t the only thing I’d be losing if I don’t make the hit.
If I don’t carry out their directive,” I say, rising to my feet and inching toward my brother. “They’re gonna kill me.”
“Fuck,” Bronx breathes out. He claps a hand on my shoulder. “See, that’s why I like being an enforcer. I can fuck shit up without having the future of my family hanging around my neck like a noose.”
My face twists into a grimace. I push his hand away. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
He grins. “Yeah, you’re just realizing this?”
“Okay, dick, I need you to get the hell out of here now. And like I said, keep all of this quiet. Don’t fucking let those lips flap or I’ll saw them off your face.”
“Yep, sure thing. I’ll leave you to your murder plotting. Maybe you need to hate fuck your wife to get your mind off all this.”
“Get out,” I say darkly, pointing at the door.
Bronx salutes me and struts out the door like he doesn’t have a goddamn care in the world. And he doesn’t. Like he said, I’m the one with the noose around my neck and the death threat hanging over my head.
There’s only one way out of this initiation… to find all the dirt the Tribunal has on its members and threaten to expose it. To do that, I need to find the Blood Vault. That would put me in charge without having to carry out a random-ass murder.
For all I know, it might be the first of many. And if there is going to be blood on my hands, there will be a good goddamn reason for it. My reason, not theirs.
But there isn’t a lot of time. I have to come up with a plan before they get back to me with instructions. And the only lead I have is that USB drive from Roman.
The front door slams shut, signaling Bronx’s exit.
It jars me, replacing my Tribunal plans with much more carnal ones.
My heart slams against my chest as I stare blankly out the open office door, my mind stumbling back to those crazy hot seconds when Livvie was pressed tight against me, so close to—
Fuck. No.
It’s a good thing that Bronx interrupted us before. Good that I keep my head focused on the fucking hellfire that’s about to rain down here instead of screwing the living daylights out of Livvie.
The words of those stuffy-ass suits rattle between my ears.
I thought I knew the stakes prior to going before the Tribunal, what I stood to lose if I rejected their requests.
I’d made my own mistakes, done shit that could have really fucked up the Tribunal’s plans for controlling the underworld that they painstakingly created by using big wielding power players all over the world.
My father’s no saint. He’s got plenty of blood on his hands, so much that they can never be scrubbed clean. But he’s a pawn, just like the rest of us in the eyes of the Tribunal.
And I had no idea what I was really up against before walking through the doors of that estate, the metaphorical gateway to my own personal hell.
My cock strains against my pants, still pissed at me for pulling away from her.
He clearly doesn’t understand obligation and expectation.
And even though I just want to escape the toxic thoughts jamming my brain, fucking her right now would be wrong, especially since I’m about to incinerate every perception she has of the man who raised her.
Bare footsteps slap across the tile floor. “You have some nerve just leaving me like that,” she hisses. I slowly focus my eyes on her, sweeping my gaze over the length of her body. My fingers tingle with the urge to graze the soft skin of her inner thighs, to plunge deep into her pussy.
Stop. Fantasizing.
For fuck’s sake.
Her eyes narrow. “What’s wrong? Why are you just standing there?”
I ignore her questions but wave her inside the office. “Come on, there’s something you need to see.”
Dots of color blossom in her cheeks, her eyes open wide with panic. “What happened at that meeting, Kingston?”
But before I give her the file, I head to the bar across the room and grab a glass off the shelf for each of us, pouring two shots.
I pick up one of the glasses and hold it out to her as a silent test of control.
She snatches it from my hand but doesn’t drink it down. “I don’t want to play any more of your games, Kingston. I want to know what you found out. I am your equal, goddammit. Not your little trophy sidepiece. I gave you and Bronx privacy. Now you owe me the courtesy of the truth.”
I take a sip of my drink. Livvie’s jaw sets, an expectant look on her face.
“You went to the meeting, not me. I am tired of being kept in the dark.” She steps forward. “So you’d better stop stringing me along. I won’t accept this life, do you understand me? I am not a second-class citizen or a muted wife.”
“No,” I say quietly. “You’re not. But you act rashly and make dumbass decisions. That stops now.” I glower at her. “Because from here on out, you need to be more careful with where you put your trust. If you aren’t, you will destroy us both. Understand?”
“What the hell does that even mean?” she says, squeezing the glass. The tips of her fingers turn white from the pressure.
I square my shoulders and walk over to my desk where the thick folder lies on top of it.
I pick it up. “I mean that the people you trust don’t give a flying fuck about you, so stop trying to protect them and make excuses for them.
” I shake the folder in the air, then hand it to Livvie.
“See, this is all the shit Roman didn’t tell you about. ”
I pour myself another whiskey while Livvie flips through the contents of the folder that Conor gave me—photographs, financial records, documentation from secret meetings that her father kept hidden from her. All the sins he committed against the Tribunal. The reasons why he’s going to be punished.
The color slips from her face, a sharp hiss of breath the only sound in the otherwise silent space.
She finally looks up, disbelief etched into her features.
“Your father made deals behind the Tribunal’s back. Deals that cost lives. That’s why you got dragged into this marriage, Liv. It’s payback for his sins.”
She drops the file back on my desk like it just singed her fingertips.
“Fuck, this is all about money and power. He murdered those people, all to claim his throne. Men who sat around our dining room table. I knew he was ruthless…” She shakes her head.
“I just hoped he’d stop one day. You know?
Find another hobby that wasn’t butchering his friends.
Now it’s come back to bite him and I’m the one stuck in a dead-end marriage, paying for his fucking sins. ”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. “All marriages are dead ends, right? Happy couples living in harmony until the day they die.”
Livvie rolls her eyes. “Happy and harmony weren’t gifted to us on our wedding day, Kingston.”
“Your father built an empire on top of the weak,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone. “And that help came with a cost. He did things that went against the Tribunal's plans. He put their operation at risk and by doing so, he put a target on his back.”
She lasers me with a fiery look. “Great, so I’m paying the goddamn debt. How convenient for him that he didn’t need to suffer, that I was at his disposal to fuck over.”
Then she closes the distance between us, her eyes burning a hole into my soul.
“And what did getting to the top cost you, Kingston? Who did you kill to get there?”
A pang assaults my heart.
Wrong question, princess. It’s not who did I kill, but rather… who will I kill.