Cruel War (The Gilded Sovereign 1)

“You sure you want her in there?”

I’m not sure I do. But where else can we toy with the guilty girl? Fuck it. I shrug, gulping down the bubbly liquid. My bedroom door opens, and Philipe stalks in, his eyes glance between Etienne and me before he shuts the door and tosses a small hard drive on the bed.

I tip my chin toward the device before asking, “What’s that?”

“Check it out,” he smirks, settling himself on the chair at my desk.

He’s the inked god the girls make him out to be, but he doesn’t show it off. His club is infamous in Los Angeles for the shit that goes down in the basement. I’ve never seen it myself, but I’ve heard whispers.

“Hey, Etienne,” he greets. “You doing good?”

“Yeah,” lover boy grins. “I guess you heard about our new project?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

I grab the small device and open my laptop, which I left on my bed this morning. Once it boots up, I push the small drive-in, clicking on the folder that appears, where I find photos of my new toy.

“Where’d you get these?” I ask my brother, glancing at him for my answer.

“She spent a month in L.A. when her father was meeting with the CEO of Garrick Tech. Some part-time stint that ended as quickly as it began,” he tells me. “She’s hot,” Philipe says, and I nod in agreement.

The photos of her jogging don’t calm the heat that makes my dick throb with need. A tiny sports bra, tight jogging bottoms, and her stomach bare is a sight I’ll certainly be keeping in my spank bank for later on.

“She was in the city,” I utter, cutting my gaze toward him. “Anything interesting we should know?”

“She met with Eric Burrell,” he informs us. The name causes me to still. I wait for him to continue, which he does when he notices my expression. “I think she’s been training. I don’t know why. I mean her dad has every fucking bodyguard shadowing her.”

“I didn’t see any when she arrived at school. And no-one’s watching her place down the way,” I tell him.

“Dad called me earlier, told me you want this one. All I’m saying is, be careful. I doubt a fallen undercover cop will allow his daughter to live with an old lady and not have someone watching her. Fergus, her father’s ex-partner lives here now,” he says. “There’s something off about this whole thing. I need you to watch your back.” He should be the one to take this because he’s the eldest, but Philipe moved out before shit hit the fan. He wasn’t here when it happened. I can’t even talk about that night.

“Yeah, I will,” I affirm. “Do you think Fergus was in on that night?”

He shakes his head to my question, knowing precisely what night I’m talking about. We’ve never really spoken about it, but there’s an underlying understanding.

“Don’t worry about me, bro. I’m a big boy now, I can take care of myself.”

My mind flits back instantly to the moment I smelled the metallic scent wafting through the air. I was the one who witnessed the bloody violence that took place that fateful night, and even if Philipe expressed his interest, I would fight him on it.

“Fine. But remember, this isn’t going to be easy. You may have to do shit you’re not comfortable with,” he warns, causing me to chuckle.

“Me? Not comfortable? Brother, I don’t think you know me very well.”

He narrows his eyes regarding me before he nods. “I know my brother, and I know there are things I’d rather not have you do.”

“Why? Because I’ll feel guilty about it? Fuck guilt. I didn’t see any in that asshole’s eyes when he stole the most important part of our life, and Dad took that from me, now it’s time for me to take what I need. This time, it’s not just a job, it’s war. A cruel war.” I bite out as anger shudders through me. His nostrils flare when my words hit home. He knows as well as I do that Patrick killed our mother. Even though he wasn’t home that night, he knows from the security footage. My only concern is why we had to wait so fucking long to do anything about it.

“Those who are responsible will pay.” He’s trying to assure me. “One way or another.”

“Yeah, my fucking way,” I vow through clenched teeth. Shoving the laptop away, I pick up my drink and down my beer in a few large gulps, before setting the empty bottle on the nightstand.

“Just be careful,” Philipe tells me. “Once you do something, you can never go back.” I know he’s only looking out for me, but I’ve lived with the anger for five years, and now that she’s here, I’ll make sure I get my penance. Since I can’t see the regret in her father’s eyes, it will have to be my little flower that pays.