Page 222 of Wicked Brutal

“Harrington.”

I glance down at my blazer like maybe I forgot it was embroidered somewhere. “Yeah. That is my last name.”

Victor’s eyes narrow. “Walter has spent his career standing behind more powerful men and mistaking proximity for power.”

My smile grows. “My dad is going to be so touched you still think about him.”

“I’ve known Walter considerably longer than you’ve been alive.”

“And somehow you’re bitching about him to his eighteen-year-old son in a high school hallway.”

A few people laugh. Victor’s nostrils flare. “Your father has always had an inflated opinion of his influence.”

“Tell him.”

“I have.”

“And?” Victor says nothing.

I grin. “Went well, huh?”

Kaid snorts. X laughs openly. Danny doesn’t, but he’s breathing again. That’s the whole reason I’m doing this. That’s enough.

Victor looks at me. “This is exactly your problem.”

“I have several. Be specific.”

“Ryan,” Kaid warns quietly. Not because Victor is getting to me. Because he knows that tone. I’m starting to enjoy this too much.

Victor looks me up and down, hunting for the insult that’ll finally stick. “A Labrador born into the right family. Loud, overeager, convinced everyone in the room finds him charming because someone always gives him a treat afterward.”

For one second, there is absolute silence. Then Danny fucking folds. He turns away, shoulders shaking. Kaid covers his mouth. X actually bends at the waist. Iz makes a sound like he’s dying.

Victor’s eyes flash. He doesn’t know yet.

I smile. “Oh, no.”

His brow tightens. “What?”

I look at the boys. Then back at him. “You really should’ve heard the first half of this conversation.”

Danny gets out, “Treats,” and loses it again.

Kaid wipes under one eye. “Jesus Christ.”

Victor goes glacial. “You find this amusing.”

“Extremely.”

“You’re proving my point.”

“Your point is that I’m a Labrador.”

“A spoiled one.”

I grin. “Still not the dog who came when called.”

The reaction is immediate. Phones lift higher.