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The only person who’d gotten me to soften had the same reputation I did. Where I controlled my emotions to keep from killing someone, she felt so much that she buried it under an avalanche of ice to keep from breaking.
We’d shown each other parts no one else knew.
And then she’d fucking walked away.
The engine rev pierced through my rage, making me realize I pushed a speed dangerously close to something even I’d consider reckless. The last thing I needed was to spin out and crash. Easing up on the accelerator, I brought the sports car down to a more manageable pace.
I had to maintain the facade of the ultra-controlled King brother. Sometimes, I would have loved nothing more than to let my emotions loose as Rey and Kir allowed themselves to do. There were only two places I’d had any freedom to let out the animal inside me.
The first was in the cage at the underground fight club Jayna and Kir owned. Knocking the shit out of someone while avoiding the same thing happening to me helped focus the aggression I locked away.
Usually, Rey and Kir stepped in as my go-to sparring partners. They understood my need for aggression release and wouldn’t pull any punches. We were also similar in build and fought more on the mixed martial arts side of things. On the other hand, Nik preferred the heavyweight-boxing style of fighting and would clock my ass into next week.
I wanted to exert my rage, but I didn’t have a death wish.
The second place I’d had the freedom to let out the animal inside me may never happen again.
I released a deep breath.
Every fucking thing led back to her.
Then again, what we had wasn’t typical by anyone’s standards. A secret committed relationship that had lasted nearly three years and pushed every fucking boundary possible.
Now she expected me to watch her parade around on another man’s arm for God knew what reason. Because I sure as hell knew it wasn’t just for a damn operation. Devani Patel always had an alternative motivation for every fucking thing.
What was so crucial for her to place herself in the middle of a chess match with the two biggest bastards in the Indo-American financial sector? Every fucker with a brain knew the bromance between Joshi and Shah was an act. They used each other for monetary advantage, usually with Shah at a disadvantage.
Hell, Shah had sold Jayna to Joshi’s oldest son, Lukesh, as a way to pay off debts he’d incurred to build this empire.
Too bad, Lukesh never took heed of the Kings’ golden rule.
Never threaten one of us. We won’t think twice about calling in the right favor or personally getting our hands dirty. In that asshole’s case, both had happened. He’d become fish food in the Atlantic when he decided to collect on Shah’s deal.
Now, Joshi kept Shah on a tight leash, since, in his eyes, the amount due had increased tenfold. If I were him, I’d cut my losses and move on.
Then again, morons stuck together.
And Devani was right there in the mix of it with Joshi’s other son, Neil.
Something about that one never sat right with me. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Then the way he watched things, very much like a cop.
But if Neil was one, how the fuck had he let his father and brother do the shit they had? Well, unless he was on the take.
No. Something about Neil reminded me of the way Rey carried himself. Rey’s role in the CIA had helped the family and vice-versa.
I highly doubted another of Rey’s types had ended up in the CIA. Rule followers rarely took people from our questionable backgrounds into their ranks, much less two from the same area.
As if Arin were smacking the back of my head, I figured it out and clenched my jaw.
Devani’s words the night she ended things with me played in my head.
“For my plans to work, it requires a potential match with Joshi.”
Neil was fucking Solon too. She hadn’t left me for him. They were working on the operation together.
“Oh, Ms. Patel. Soon, we are going to have a nice long chat.”
