Page 110 of SNOB

There was no way I was cracking the code to Red’s security footage on my own. Any criminal knows to have their shit locked tight. But Harry? Harry’s been more helpful to me than my own friends.

Walking up to the mansion door, a crow circles one of the spires, a leather folder tucked under my arm. My father always said I don’t know how to handle business. Now, I’ll show him.

“Father!” I call, my sneakers squeaking against the marble floor in the foyer. For the first time, these walls don’t threaten to suffocate me. For the first time, this place doesn’t feel like a cell. When he doesn’t answer, I follow the smell of strong tobacco to his office, kicking the door open. “There he is, Sterling McKinsley.”

His eyes narrow, phone in his hand, feet on his desk. “I’ll call you back.” Pulling his feet off the table, he straightens up in his seat. “You dare come at me in that manner, son? Have you finally lost it?”

“Maybe.” I’ve never felt so free in his office, in his domain. “I have a business proposal.”

“I don’t have time for your silly little ideas, Malcolm,” Father chuckles. “They never work. I was on an important call. But it seems you need to be put in your place.”

Now I’m the one to chuckle. “Oh, you’ll have time for this.” Placing the leather folder on the table, I flip it open with a finger. Plucking the images out of their slots, I glare into his eyes before sliding them towards him. “Or is this not you involved in sex trafficking?”

It’s taking everything in me not to climb across this desk and give him what he deserves, but I remember his words all too clear.

I expect you to dominate with your mind. Your hands will get you in trouble.

He glances at me, the red in his face draining, then he leans back in his chair with a satisfied huff. “I thought she looked familiar.”

Is that all he has to say? “Turns out, you’re the sick fuck.”

“I paid for that,” he says. “Like a real man.”

“No, you haven’t paid for that. But you will.” The images of his body on Ember fill my mind again, my hands turning to balls.

“So?” he asks. “What do you want? Your silly little hockey career back?”

“I want you gone.”

My father tips his head back in his chair, letting laughter erupt around the room as my nails sink into my skin. “And where am I supposed to go?”

“I really don’t care. But if you don’t leave and find a way to fall off the face of this earth? I’ll ruin you.”

His laughter stops. “You’re talking a big game, Malcolm.”

“I’m actually being really nice. There’s not much stopping me from sending this to the board, or to the press. Nothing is stopping me from releasing this to the world. You, an old washed-up man, with a young, vulnerable girl.”

“She’s legal.”

“Sure, she is.” Reaching into the folder I flick out a few more photos. “But turns out, you’re a regular. And these girls? Some of these girls are looking to make whoever hurt them pay.”

“Don’t be stupid, Malcolm.”

“I don’t have to be when you are.”

“And what about your little secret? The one I’ve been hiding for months? What do you think will happen to you?”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore. The only thing I want, is you out. You will release your finances to me. You will release your business to me. Your assets. This house and the others. Your helicopter. All of this is mine.” Silence takes over us, his glare on mine as I come face to face with the monster I never want to be. “If following in your path turns me into you, I don’t want it.”

“I should have never taken you as my son.”

“That’s accurate.” Reaching into the folder I pull out the last thing. “Your flight to Svalbard leaves in an hour. I never want to see you again.”

THIRTY-FOUR

EMBER

Malcolm McKinsley isn’t who I thought he was.

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