Chapter 16
KINGSTON
“You can’t just say that we’re out of time and walk away from me,” Livvie says, grabbing my arm before I can walk out of the kitchen. “Out of time for what?”
“I don’t owe you any explanations,” I say through gritted teeth, trying like hell to ignore the sensations coursing through me when her fingertips dig into my arm, searing my flesh. I can’t let her see what she’s doing to me, what I stand to lose if I give in to what my body is begging for.
Her face is taut, lips pulled into an angry line, brows furrowed. The vein on the left side of her forehead throbs as it always does when she’s pissed off, which is pretty damn often. Admittedly because of me.
I put my hand on top of hers and peel it off. “Don’t fucking think you can put your hands on me like that, princess. You’d better remember who you’re dealing with.”
The static crackling in the air between us electrifies the tension in our connection but I can’t let it throw me off course. The files that were leaked will have damning consequences for my family, and now for her, by association.
I need to figure out exactly what else was on that USB drive Roman gave her. If he had access, then it’s because Cormac gave him the order to build evidence against us for whatever reason. Leverage, most likely.
And who the hell knows if she has ongoing contact with that douchebag?
I have her under surveillance so I know where she's going and when. But I can’t control whether or not Roman tries to contact her again.
That USB had family records on it but Bronx said there was still shit that his trusted hacker, Pearson, was trying to decrypt.
Roman wanted Livvie to have that USB, not me. Maybe he was gonna walk her through a way to access the data, to use it against me somehow, maybe as a threat to get herself out of this marriage.
Her hand balls into a tight fist and for a second, I wonder if she’s gonna try to take a swing at me.
“I am so fucking tired of feeling like a ping pong ball when I’m around you,” she says. “You don’t just run hot and cold. You go from scorching magma heat to frigid Mount Everest temperatures.”
Christ, I want to fuck that snark right out of her.
I lift an eyebrow, relishing the look of frustration etched into her features. I’d told her that mouth was gonna get her in trouble and if I had time, I’d definitely make it so. “For the record, I’d like you a hell of a lot better naked than if you were buried in a Canada goose snowsuit.”
She recoils, her eyes blown open wide for a flash of a second before her nostrils flare.
“Really?” she asks in a mocking tone. Then she pulls up the hem of my T-shirt she’s wearing and slides it over her head. It slips from her fingers and pools around her feet.
My pulse takes off like a goddamn thoroughbred chasing the Triple Crown at the sight of her standing there in only a pair of lacy panties so tiny, they barely cover her pussy. My mouth waters, my fingers itching to touch, to probe, to plunder.
Then she storms past me, swinging her ass as she walks. “Fuck you, Kingston. This is as close to naked as you’re going to get from me.”
The door to her music room slams shut. I let out a breath and scrub my hands down the front of my face.
I head into my bathroom and turn on the shower spray.
Steam curls over the sides of the glass enclosure as my mind works out the details of that USB drive and the fact that I still need to carry out an assassination of some unknown power player on behalf of the Red Tribunal.
I’d much rather bury my head between Livvie’s thighs and listen to her moans instead of dealing with the shitstorm I’m about to step into, but that’s not the choice I was given. It’s also not the life I chose for myself.
A frustrated hiss slips through my lips as I step into the shower and let the hot spray rush over me as the inner battle in my mind wages.
Every day, my feelings for Livvie ebb and flow. Despite the most unlikely circumstances, she’s managed to burrow herself deep under my skin, which is a damn dangerous place for her to be. Arguably more dangerous for me than her.
She has the power to distract, and in my line of work, that’s unacceptable. Yeah, she has a hot pussy, but so does half the female population.
But regardless of how my body reacts to her, I can’t trust the woman. That would make me weak. Vulnerable. Exposed.
In the meantime, I need to figure out what information Roman has on my family and what more is coming. If Bronx has his dick in a twist over what he saw, I know it’s bad. He doesn’t normally flip his shit over this kind of thing, which makes me very fucking nervous.
Livvie is still locked in the conservatory when I leave the penthouse. I give specific orders to the guards positioned outside the door and the ones in the lobby and around the perimeter.
Nobody gets inside. And if they try to breach the doors, shoot them. No excuses.
This time, I don’t use the exit from the private garage. Instead, I grab the keys to one of the blacked-out Escalades parked on the street from Manny, one of the security guards stationed at the front entrance to the building.
“Remember what I said, Manny,” I say in a low voice. “Nobody gets inside. No matter what.”
“Yes, Mr. Viacava.”
Manny has worked with me for years and while I trust him as much as I need to, money talks and everyone can be bought. I learned that at a very young age. There were plenty of guards who turned on Dad for a quick buck.
Needless to say, they never got to spend any of it before a machete tore through their chest.
That’s the brutal truth and how the Viacavas keep people in line. Once rumors of the machete execution circulated, the number of defectors dropped like a pair of cement shoes hitting the bottom of the Hudson River.
I walk fast toward the first Escalade when another nondescript car rolls up to the curb next to me. My hand reaches into the waistband of my pants, fingers gripping the gun when the car’s passenger side window slides down a few inches.
I stop short when I see Arturo’s face. He nods at me and holds up an envelope.
But I don’t walk over. I just stare at him, keeping my distance because I know exactly how this could go. Arturo might be an associate of my father but he’s got no loyalty to me as a nonmember of the Tribunal.
What if they decided it’d be better to ice me instead of initiate me?
Arturo lets out a low whistle through his teeth and waves the envelope. “Kingston, I don’t have all day.”
Keeping my hand on the gun, I stalk toward the truck.
He rolls his eyes at me. “If I was going to kill you, you’d be full of holes before you could squeeze off a single shot.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s not giving me much credit, especially coming from a messenger.”
His lips crook upward. “Messenger. That’s cute.”
“What do you want?” I ask, not letting go of my gun.
“The senior leaders of the Tribunal wanted you to have this. They said you’d know what it meant.”
I reach for the envelope and barely have it between my fingers before Arturo closes his window.
Clutching it, my throat tightens. Is this the name? The person I’m supposed to kill in order to claim my empire?
Arturo’s car disappears around a corner before I jump into the Escalade. I swallow hard, staring at the envelope like the information I’m waiting for will just bleed through the white card stock.
Whoever it is, I need to carry out the order or else I have to give up everything I’ve worked and sacrificed for.
I grind my back teeth, blood bubbling in my veins.
I don’t like being told what to do. I’m the one who gives the orders, not the other way around.
And fuck Dad for making me a goddamn peon in the eyes of the Tribunal.
I tear open the envelope and pull out the card.
One name glares back at me and my stomach drops to my fucking knees.
I stuff the card back into the envelope.
My pulse spikes, punching a hole in the back of my throat as I press my foot on the gas and speed to Bronx’s apartment.
He’s only about a twenty-minute drive but Manhattan traffic and the fact that my throat feels like it’s been lassoed by a boa constrictor make it feel like a lifetime before the tires screech to a halt in front of his building.
I turn off the ignition and grab the envelope before pushing open the driver’s side door.
I run to the front of the building, clear security, and stab the Up button next to the elevator.
A thin drizzle of sweat trickles down my spine.
The elevator doors slide open and a cold rush of air ices my damp skin.
Using my key, I twist the lock and push open his door. He straightens up once I barge inside, Pearson furiously typing on a laptop keyboard at the desk next to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the skyline.
There’s a half-eaten bag of Twizzlers cherry bites next to him and every few seconds, he pops a handful in his mouth before continuing his search.
“King, you need to see this,” Bronx says, his voice grave. He points at the laptop screen. “Pearson just found something on the drive while he was encrypting shit. There's an invisible watermark that says Blood Vault on every piece of documentation scanned. Do you know what that is?”
My jaw tightens. “I have an idea of what it might be. And there’s something else you need to see. In private.”
Bronx claps a hand on Pearson’s shoulder. “Good work, kid. See what else you can find.”
He sweeps a hand through his hair as we walk down the hallway to his office. “If someone put that information on a USB, then they have access to the master files. And those files are the key to the whole fucking kingdom, King. Our kingdom. But it isn’t us who’s controlling any of it.”
“That’s bad, but things are about to get worse.” I close the office door behind me and thrust the envelope at him. “One of the Red Tribunal thugs showed up outside my place a little while ago and gave me this.” I lean closer, my voice dropping. “My target.”
Bronx tears open the envelope. “Fuck me,” he mutters. “You need to kill…?”
I fold my arms over my chest and nod. “Cormac fucking O’Callaghan.”