Cruel War (The Gilded Sovereign 1)

“What? Why?” I thought the idea was to make her hurt, to see her break down when she learns who her father truly was. He lied to her all her life, and I can’t wait to see her pretty face crumble with pain when she finds out.

“That’s why we’re meeting tonight. We have information on her father’s partner,” Dad says absentmindedly.

Shaking my head, I step closer to him, lowering my voice. “It doesn’t change the fact that Patrick killed mom,” I retort, as frustration burns through me like lava spewing from a volcano. Violence burns in my blood, and my knuckles itch, aching to hit something or someone.

“Listen to me,” Abner grits through clenched teeth. “If you can’t take an order, we will rethink your position in the society.” Shock lances my chest. He’s always been hard on Philipe and me, but the venom in his voice is nothing like I’ve ever heard before. The man before me is a stranger, not my father at all, but the man who runs a secret society of assholes.

“Fine.” I turn to walk away, but his hand lands on my shoulder, and I’m certain he can feel the tension radiating through me. “I said fine.”

He doesn’t have to admonish me; I know he’s warning me. It’s time for me to let off some steam. When my father releases me, I make my way down the quad toward the parking lot where I spot Etienne.

“Hey,” he greets as I near him.

“We have a meeting tonight.”

He nods. “I know, we all got messages from an unknown number. Do you think it has to do with your pretty girl?”

“Apparently.”

“You look like you need a time out,” my best friend grins.

Just then, Tarian saunters up to us, stopping short when I pin a glare his way. “I need information,” I tell him. “Hack everything you can break into; I want to know all there is to know about this Fergus asshole.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s a fucking brilliant idea.” Pulling my phone from my pocket, I tap out a message to Tar with the full name of the man in question. “I want it in an hour.”

“Where are you going?” Both my friends question when I turn away from them, stalling me for only a moment before I smirk over my shoulder.

“To let off some steam.” With a wink, I unlock my car and slip into the driver’s seat. There’s only one place that will ease the rage that’s running through my veins right now. Speeding through the streets, I turn up the volume on my stereo as ‘Centuries’ by Fall Out Boy screams at me through the speakers.

There’s something about a hard rock song that gets me in the mood for what I’m about to do. My mind is still on Dahlia as I steer up the hill that takes me out of town and toward our neighboring shithole town.

Lakeside is nothing but a one-horse town. A dive bar, a few hundred homes, and a gym where I love to hang out when I’m in this crappy mood. I don’t know many people here because they don’t come to Tynewood.

The streets are bare, there’s trash on the sidewalks, and the rundown building I’m heading toward beckons me like a light in the dark. When I pull into Billy’s Gym, I kill the engine and exit the car.

Inside, I’m met with the stench of sweat and the grunts of men. Sitting in the center of the room is a ring, a square mat where two men are sparring like little girls swatting at bugs. No, this isn’t what I want.

I make a beeline for the backdoor, which I push open to find the space I’d been itching to enter. Two burly assholes are fighting like hound dogs, ripping their prey to shreds in the concrete fighting ring.

This is it.

War.

“Ares,” Billy smirks when he notices me.

“Hey, B.” I offer a hand, which he accepts and shakes in greeting. “Can I jump in?”

“You’re one of my best,” he tells me. “I’ll get you in the next round.”

“Good stuff.” I settle back, watching the fight, while I tug off the T-shirt I’m wearing. My tattoo still stings every time I bump against it, but it’s a reminder of what I’m walking into.

“Nice ink,” Billy remarks, taking in the logo. It’s one he knows far too well. I think it’s something he’d much rather forget. “Dad make you get it already?”

“You know it.” I grin. I’ve been fucked up drunk here so many times that I’ve found myself confessing things to Billy. I shouldn’t have, but he’s been good to me, better than my own father has been. Billy grew up in Tynewood, his own father was a Crown, but when the old man died, Billy refused to step up. I never understood why, but he told me once that if I ever did become a Crown, I’d find out for myself.