Page 61 of Fallen King


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What would she think of my big, crazy family?

Somebody always needs something.

We yell too much.

Sarcasm is our love language, and revenge is a Kingston sibling’s sacred weapon.

But I never wondered if I’d have someone standing by my side when I needed them. Most of the time, I wish they’d take a few steps back, but I like them there.

I think they’d like her too.

I should have asked her to come with me to the wedding.

And as if the motherfucker read my mind, Becks exhales a perfect circle of smoke from his cigar and kicks my foot with his. “You bringing the assistant tomorrow? Or are you worried she’ll trade you in for Jace since she’s closer to his age than yours, old man?”

Annoyance burns through my veins.

With him and myself. “No. I didn’t ask Daphne.”

Sam lifts the bottle of whiskey to his lips, then passes it to Becks. “You with Daphne Brenner, Max?”

“Is she the only Daphne in the city, Sam?” I grab the bottle from Becks and take a drink, then hand it back.

“That’s a yes, in case you weren’t sure.” Beck passes the damn bottle back to Sam. These two were lifelong friends before Sam married our sister Amelia, and right now, they’re both pissing me off.

Sam laughs it off. “No, dumbass. But your sisters like to gossip. And you people text each other every time someone takes a shit.” The cherry of his cigar burns brightly as he inhales, then leans back against the sectional. “She tell you her father left town? Took the money you guys paid him for the team and fucking ran like a scared little bitch. Didn’t pay a single one of his debts.”

My brain explodes at his words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” That can’t be right. She hasn’t said a word. Is this why she’s been distant?

Concern tugs at my heart. My girl has been hurting, and she felt like she couldn’t share it with me. Because I basically told her she couldn’t. That we were just scratching a fucking itch.

Becks steals the bottle back and passes it to me. “Here, Max. You look like you need this.”

“Who’d he owe money to? I figured the company was in bad shape, but I hadn’t considered he was fucking around in your world.” I grab the bottle from Becket and stand to pace the patio. “Is Daphne safe?” I start to spiral, thinking of all the ways this asshole screwed over his own daughter. If Sam knows about this, her father got himself into some bad shit. Our brother-in-law is the Philadelphia mafia. He runs the whole damn thing.

And when he merely looks ominously at me in response, I know the answer.

The visceral reaction I have to that look makes me want to kill her father. Not just say it but do it. Self-centered piece of fucking shit. “I’ll pay it.”

“The fuck—” Becks blows up, but Sam cuts him off.

“She’s safe. I don’t hurt women who have nothing to do with their father’s debts and who happen to work for my wife’s family.” He snubs out his cigar. “His debt to me is paid, but he’s been racking up new debts in New York for a few weeks now. He tried Atlantic City first. The dumb fuck didn’t realize I own that town too.”

I drop my cigar in the fire, hand Sam the damn bottle, and pull my phone from my pocket to let Luka know I’m ready to go. “Will you guys tell Bash I left?”

“Don’t, Max. Don’t go to her. If she didn’t tell you, she didn’t want you to know. And I still say there’s a reason for that. She wants something from you, and you’re playing into it.” Becks turns to Sam. “Come on, man. Back me up.”

Sam looks less than eager to agree. “Your girlfriend is a society-climbing bitch, Becket. I don’t think you’re in any place to be giving relationship advice.”

I head for the back gate. “Just tell Bash I’ll see him tomorrow.” Then I stop and turn back to my brother. “And make sure somebody takes care of Jace. Don’t let him fuck anything up for Len.” For once in my goddamn life, I’m taking care of my own shit before anyone else’s.

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