Wild Heir (Fated Royals 4)

I shook my head.

“No apologies necessary. You are absolutely correct. Show your cards, Petre. Get this over with. It’s all right, I’ll take my fate.”

Petre hesitated, but the truth was he was trapped. He had to show his cards or beg our father for assistance.

As he would never do the latter, there was only one option open to him. With a scowl, he threw down the cards on the table and folded his arms over his chest. Three ladies, exactly as I’d anticipated. A good hand, to be sure, but I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

“Huh.” I said, pretending to be surprised. “I think my hand wins.”

“Congratulations, sir,” the dealer said, pushing all the chips over to me, repressing a smile as I rocked back in my chair, crossing my arms and watching Petre.

“Good thing you convinced me to play one last hand, right?”

Whatever veneer of polite humanity he had was now officially gone. He leered at me and spun his pinkie ring.

“I don’t know if I have the cash to cover it all,” he said.

I scoffed. Typical.

“It’s fine, I won’t bankrupt the family. I’ll take whatever is yours in the safe, not father’s, though I’d like him there to verify which is which. And I’ll also take that,” I said, eyeing his ring.

“Fuck you.”

I opened my palm. “Fine. So I’ll just go ahead and get the word out there that Petre Greengallow doesn’t pay his debts. Sounds good to me.” I added a click of my teeth and a wink.

Anger flashed on his face, just for a second, and then he crumpled like a piece of dry kindling. It took him some effort to wiggle the ring off of his finger. When he placed it in my palm, it felt unpleasantly hot. I dropped it into my jacket pocket and stood from the table.

“Let’s square this up. Then I can get the fuck out of here.”

“Before you go, I’d like a conversation, son,” my father said, standing from his seat ready to accompany us. My father could be merciless at times, but there was honor within him as well and he deserved my respect.

I sighed, feeling I already knew what was about to happen, but I nodded and answered, “Of course.”

As we walked to the safe, I felt Petre fuming beside me, his limping gait doing little to improve his mood. He was too chickenshit to take a swing at me, which was unfortunate because a left hook to his face may have improved my mood.

It had been years since we’d laid hands on each other, but in our youth we’d broken enough crystal and china that our mother had most of it moved from the main living areas into cupboards and pantries, lest she be replacing it year over year.

I’d been the victor of those fights by and large. It was hard to remember even one-time Petre coming out with the better of me.

Since then, Petre fought with words, not fists. With backroom deals, not showdowns at dawn. When he wanted to hurt someone, he had his band of hired hounds to the messy work. Coward. At the least sign of physical danger, he was nowhere to be found.

But rumor had it that when it came to one thing in particular, he reveled in aggression and violence: women. And when it came to Valeria, there was not a chance in hell I was going to let that happen.

Once our business at the safe was concluded, father retired to his study, requesting my presence once more. I slung the bag of cash and gold coin over my shoulder and took a step into Petre, blocking an easy exit by crowding him up against a bookshelf.

“If you hurt her, you’re going to answer to me.”

“I fucking knew it. Princess pussy got you by the balls?” he said, eyes flashing with greed.

As soon as I saw his expression, I knew I’d let my passion get the better of me. Now he knew I had a weak spot. Her.

It was irrational, it was insane; I’d only just met her. But both my brain and my cock said she was mine to protect. Somehow, some way, I needed to keep her safe.

I flexed my knuckles, raising my eyebrow to warn him. I was tougher, bigger, and stronger and he was aware I could kick his ass.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I said.

Petre shook his head. “Once I marry her, I’ll do whatever I like to her.” His tone was low, steady. Such a fucking creep. “Every night. Rough and cruel and bloody. She won’t walk or sit the same after I have my way with her. She’s my property, my whore. You have no say.” He pointed at me as he spoke. “And even though you think you’re the hot shit son who came back the all-conquering hero, you’re not. I have men, I have power. And soon, a royal title. I will fuck up the princess however I damned well please.”