Cruel War (The Gilded Sovereign 1)

“Be careful, Ares.” Billy looks me over. “You’re a good lad, I don’t want you getting into that bullshit and losing yourself.”

“I’ll never lose myself,” I admit, knowing it’s true in my heart.

“Has he told you what he’s done?” Billy asks before I have time to say anything more.

Shaking my head, I respond, “No. What do you mean?”

Silence weighs heavily between us. I can tell the man I’ve come to trust is at war with himself. He wants to tell me, but he’s wary.

“Come on, B,” I nudge him. “You’ve known me since I was seventeen. I can handle anything you throw at me.”

He turns away, heading toward the counter behind us, and picks something up. Billy glances my way and hands me his phone. It’s unlocked I take note of the Play icon waiting for me on the screen. There’s a video waiting for me, and a cold, ominous shiver trickles its way down my spine.

“I don’t know if I should show you this. It’s not my story to tell, but…” He shakes his head and shrugs. “Here,” he says, handing me headphones; I plug them in before hitting the large play button.

The images I’m met with turn my blood to lava, my stomach twists in knots at what I’m witnessing, and the dialogue that plays ensures I’m ready for a fight to the death.

Even though the object of my wrath isn’t waiting in the ring tonight, I’ll make sure soon enough, he will pay.

It’s the last thing I see before I step into the ring and fight.

19

Ares

I’m still bleeding when I reach the Durand mansion. My eye is burning, watering from impact, and I know, soon enough, it’ll be swelling up. My lip tastes like metal each time my tongue swipes along the cuts. I fucked up the guy I was fighting, but he got a couple of shots in.

I stop at the gate and push the grey button, which buzzes the main house. It doesn’t take long for the gates to open, and soon, I’m parked outside the large, ornate doors.

Etienne’s mother is an interior designer with an eye for exquisite detail. She’s redone their house more times than I’ve had sex, and that’s a lot. But the moment I step into the foyer, I inhale the scent of home.

When my mother was killed, I was lost. And the only place that ever felt like home was the kitchen of Hilary Durand. Even though she didn’t cook, the chef they’d hired used to feed me, making sure I’d had enough sustenance to make it to school and back again.

This will always be my home.

“What the fuck, man?” Etienne glares at me, and I know he’s shocked at my appearance. After the video, I lost my shit. There’s no doubt about it. I am volatile, more so than anyone ever thought I was.

“I needed something, man. I… I learned something that has finally broken my father’s hold on me,” I inform him, grabbing the beer he hands me. If I’m drinking, I may as well stay over, so I hang my car keys on the gold hook, which is secured against the inside of their kitchen door, and settle at the table that overlooks their vast garden.

“What happened?”

Shaking my head, I swig down the cold, bubbly liquid, knowing that if I get drunk before the meeting tonight, I’ll probably kill my father.

“You can’t hold out on me. We’re in this together,” he reminds me, but it’s a lie. It wasn’t his father in the video; it was mine. He has no clue how fucked up this truly is, and as much as I should tell him about it, I can’t find the words.

“Not now.”

Etienne glares at me for a long time before nodding. “There’s a barbecue at the Calvert’s,” he tells me. “Want to head over before the meeting?”

“Yeah,” I respond, swallowing the beer in a few long gulps. “I wonder if my little flower will be there.”

“She’s not a toy for you to play with, we need to tell her about her father.”

“Fuck that,” I tell him, still buzzing from adrenaline after having punched a man until he was practically passed out. Billy had to drag me out of the ring. “I’m the one running this, and she’s mine.” He’s right, though. Etienne has this way of being right all the time, but this time… I don’t care. Even as I think it, I know my conviction is slowly fading.

What my best friend doesn’t know is that I enjoy playing with her, taunting her.

She’s a toy. She’s my fucking puppet.

Dahlia is here for me to amuse myself with, and I’m not about to walk away until I’m done with her. Before I saw that damning video, I wanted to kill Dahlia for what her father did, but now, all I want is to bend her over and claim her for myself. And that thought is what I’m at war with.