Page 94 of Fierce Monarch

We would destroy them later. I’d make sure they died bleeding.

Watching them drive Dominic away was so reminiscent of Shara that I thought I was going to throw up. Instead, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Laidan Donnaghal.

Dominic arrested. I want him out.

We waited for ages until the cops all left, feeling like they’d taken part of my heart with them.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dominic

Despite the family I’d grown up in, I’d never been to jail. Not beyond a holding cell anyway. The fact that the Seattle PD got me booked and changed into the fucking red uniform before Mari got me out was wild. I didn’t mind, though. I was fuming mad and ready to take that shit out on anyone who came my way.

Cash set my girl up to die. There was no doubt about it. He wanted Mari in here, away from all the protection her position granted her, so he could orchestrate a hit on her. He probably would’ve succeeded too. We’d managed to get some protection in the jail, but not nearly enough for a fucking kingpin to stay safe. If she’d gone down for this, Greyson and I would’ve had to do some serious work to keep her alive. I was talking about jailbreak-type work. This whole situation screamed of a setup, but what did I know, other than Cash was a psycho and my girl was apparently talking to his brother.

We’d be having words about that.

Walking to my cell was fascinating. At first, everyone whistled. Catcalls and yells about the “pretty boy” were ignored, only for the men to ramp up, shouting offers to get me anything I wanted if I bent over. It was all exactly how I expected it to be, so I kept my mouth shut, my eyes forward, and my vibes gearing toward back the fuck up.

Then the whispers started.

I heard Mari’s name and then Cash’s, and the voices at the bars got hungrier, darker, and I knew that even if she had some protection, Mari definitely wouldn’t have survived. Not because she wasn’t powerful or strong enough, but because there were just too fucking many people in here who weren’t on our side, and I had no doubt the women’s section was just as split.

In fact, it was probably worse since Cash had been planning to get one of our ladies in there for a while.

The guard tapped my cell, A31, and shoved me inside it. “Here you go, Killer.”

Refusing to rub at the bruised ribs his asshole friends had given me, I smirked like a dick. “Thanks for the nickname, but it’s not really my style.”

The guard looked at me like I was an idiot. “I wasn’t talking to you. Enjoy your new bunkie.” He jerked his head to the shadow at the back corner and grinned, laughing his ass off as the doors clanked shut behind me.

It wasn’t until the shadows moved and I was against the wall, a sharpened toothbrush at my throat, that I realized I was not the only killer in the room.

The man was lean to the point of almost being too thin, but those wiry muscles were strong. Most of him was still shadowed, but I caught a halo of dark-blond hair and a flash of brown eyes. His skin was a dark tan and a little ashy, like he was desperate for some water and a bottle of lotion.

My eyes peered to his side of the room and the near-empty bottle of lotion near the head. I cringed. Maybe he already has some.

“You got a name, pretty boy?” He shook me when I just stared silently, bringing my focus back. “Well?” I blamed the fire; it’d zapped all my strength to get Ash out, knowing Mari was inside.

“Dominic.”

“You got a last name?”

I thought about my answer for a long time, knowing that if he wasn’t a sympathizer, I was as good as dead. This shitty-ass room would be the last thing I was going to see.

Yeah, fuck that.

I wanted to die buried in my girl, not sharing space with some six-foot-something asshole. If he wanted to play, I’d play all fucking day.

Straightening up, I said, “Marcosa,” and hoped for the best.

Silence weighed heavy between us, and I could practically see him making calculations that I hoped were the How can I make this work to my advantage variety instead of the How do I kill him without getting another lifetime in this shithole kind.

“You’re the underboss.” I nodded, and he stepped back, finally giving me some space. “I’m shocked to see you. Thought it was a rumor you got pinched.”

“It was a calculated risk,” I said carefully, not knowing if he was really on my side or not. People would say anything to make you believe them.

He nodded like he understood and held out a hand. “Montgomery, but I go by Killer.”

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