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“It doesn’t matter which country you go to, I’ll be there, because I don’t trust assholes like you,” I tell him, leaning forward, my hands clenched into fists at the balls on this fucker.
“Etienne,” my dad says in a warning tone, so I simmer down, but not by much. There’s nothing I can do to Fergus right now, but if I ever see him doing shit to hurt Rukaiya, he’ll pay with blood. “Let’s get started.”
“Abner has been taken in, he won’t be seeing the light of day again,” I inform the table. There are six men surrounding it, including my father and Fergus. Rukaiya’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, and I can’t stop a smirk from curling my lips. The moment she notices it, she turns away. Her cheeks darken with a rosy hue. Fuck, she’s beautiful.
“And where does that leave the Tynewood Sovereign?” One of the other men questions, leaning his elbows on the table.
“Philipe has taken his father’s place. As it was meant to be, no matter where Abner is.” I shove the paperwork across the table to the man who asked me the question. I don’t know any of their names, but I’ll learn soon enough.
“That’s fine,” Dad says, “and what are you going to do when it comes to the other societies? Philipe will have to visit each one in person.”
“He’s planning that, we just needed to make sure Tynewood was secure before we even considered that,” I tell him. The focus was always on the main arm of the Sovereign. The rest of the societies will have to wait. Besides the fact that they’ve all heard about Abner’s arrest, there hasn’t been much drama. “And that’s why I’m here.”
The room was silent before, but right now, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the space. I wonder if they know I’m about to drop a bomb that will ensure this whole fucking society will be rocked.
“Fergus was working for Abner, undercover.”
“What?” The man in question gasps in surprise, but his act is see-through. I’m sure everyone in the room can see it. “That’s a joke, right?” His face turns bright red at the accusation; only, it’s not a lie, and he knows it.
“Why would Etienne lie about something like this?” Isaac questions, turning his attention on Fergus who’s practically spluttering at being the center of attention. This is what he wanted, so why not take it and run with it. Having one of the top Crowns paying you off should make him happy, but he knows he’s in shit when my father says, “I’ve seen the bank statements, Harrison. Why don’t you tell us what happened?”
“This is such bullshit,” Fergus fumes, rising from his seat, knocking it back as it tumbles to the floor. “I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.”
“You are part of the Sovereign,” Isaac reminds him, his voice calm and collected. One thing about my father is that he never loses his shit—not with his colleagues, or me and my mother. He emanates control in every aspect of his life, and I wish I could be like that. But the fire that burns in my veins scorches me far too strongly. “It is our business what you do with the money you are receiving from us.”
I’m certain Fergus is about to lose his shit, as his face is turning a shade of beet red I’ve never seen before on a human, and it can’t be healthy. Silence hangs in the air like a lead weight. It’s a dangerous, volatile cloud, and I’m sure it’s about to implode all over us.
He turns to his daughter. “We’re leaving.” He doesn’t touch her, but the invisible tether is there. She rises, silent and obedient. I’m tempted to stop her. I want to push her against the goddamned wall and claim her mouth with mine. I don’t like that he has such a hold on her.
“Like fuck if you think you’re walking out of here without explaining yourself.” It’s me who explodes. And it’s not because he’s being an asshole. No, my eyes are locked on the blonde beauty behind him. I’m selfish, she’s mine. She’s been mine since the moment I laid eyes on her in the quad back in Tynewood.
“You,” Fergus sneers, his accent coming in thick and strong as he rounds the long table. From the corner of my eye, I can see Dad rising from his seat, but I offer a swift shake of my head. I don’t need him to fight my battles. I’ve spent my life doing it myself, and right now isn’t the time to appear weak. “You don’t get to question me.”
“Just because I’m younger than you does not mean I don’t run this fucking society with the rest of the Crowns who sit at the head of the table.” I saunter closer to him. The rest of the old stiffs stare with mouths gaped at the exchange. None of them are strong enough or have the balls to stand up to this asshole, but that’s where I’m better. I am not afraid of dickheads who run their mouths off, steal shit from others, and murder without consequence.
