Page 43 of A King So Savage

Lion of mine

Erase my sorrow

Use your wickedness

Ruin me.

Kingston grit his teeth.

“Why didn’t you say so immediately?”

Oliver slid back into his chair, smiling up at Kingston and Ava. He dabbed the blood at the corner of his mouth with one of the fine, linen napkins. “I didn’t want to ruin Ava’s breakfast by mentioning her brother.”

“You fucking psycho,” Kingston muttered under his breath, then louder, he barked, “What is there to negotiate? He either pays the debt or he doesn’t.”

“Carson wants a meeting. Not here, of course. Somewhere neutral.” Oliver picked up a piece of ham from Ava’s plate and popped it into his mouth. Chewing thoroughly and grimacing because of the cut to his lip, he squinted at Kingston. “He’s afraid of what you might do to him. And it goes without saying he’s asking for proof your prisoner is still alive and in one piece. Is she still in one piece, brother? Or is she no longer worth the debt?”

Kingston didn’t answer, but he tugged Ava closer, noting she trembled like a leaf caught in a whirlwind. Whether her reaction was due to the fight, Oliver’s story, or the news her brother might actually pay for her freedom was unknown.

Or maybe it was from being held so tightly against his body and the memory of what he’d done to her the night before.

He shouldn’t have been so quick in promising her freedom. It was a mistake to think she could go anywhere on his estate without first dealing with the issue of his brother. He wished he could go back on his word but feared the damage he might cause her if he tried.

As if aware of his inner turmoil, Ava caught the lapels of his suit jacket, fingers tightly clutching the fine material. “Please don’t put me back in that cell.” Staring up at him, her eyes were so wide and so green they mimicked the leaves of the roses in the table’s centerpiece. “I’ll be good. And I won’t cause any trouble. I promise.” She seemed to grit her teeth when adding the requisite title, “Sir.”

“How can you resist when she begs so prettily, King? It’s like music to the ears,” Oliver interjected, licking blood off his knuckles. He’d scraped them on the terrace stone. “If it’s me you’re worried about, I’ll keep my distance from the prisoner. It’s been difficult, but I’ve managed so far.”

“You won’t be around to worry about,” Kingston responded in a neutral voice. “You’ll meet with Carson on my behalf. See what the offer is.”

“Shit,” Oliver swore, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. I’ve no desire to visit Bitter Springs.”

Kingston maneuvered Ava toward the French doors, throwing orders over his shoulder at his petulant brother. “Be in my office in an hour. We’ll go over the details.”

Walking swiftly down the interior corridor, he forced Ava into a trot beside him or risk losing her arm.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked breathlessly.

“To the room I’ve designated as yours.”

“But not the cell?”

“No. Not the cell. But remember, lamb. Only the walls and the view are different.”

Ava did not respond to that, but her lips tightened as she continued following him.

“Have you always owned this house?” she dared asking as they ascended a set of beautifully carved stairs in the grand foyer. The double front doors were massive—a symphony of leaded glass, dark oak, and swirling steel. It was something one might see in a European castle. Decadence and luxury swirled together beneath a façade of civility.

Kingston paused on the stair landing. “No. I purchased The Den once my father’s estate was cleared for disbursal and the DA’s office dropped their investigation into his misdeeds.”

“And my dad helped with that, right?” Ava’s eyes were wide and guileless. “I mean, he was an amazing estate attorney, after all. Isn’t that why you hired him after your father passed away? He did what you requested, and you monitored everything he did on your behalf.”

“How clever you are, figuring that out.” Kingston smiled. “It wasn’t a difficult choice, hiring your father. The DA’s charges were falling apart one by one, but with all the money and assets held in limbo, I needed his expertise. Especially since I was barely surviving on the pitiful allowance the previous attorney allotted.”

He continued up the stairs, still gripping her elbow tight. “Turning eighteen my senior year of high school meant I was an adult and would not be placed in foster care like Oliver. And that first year of college was pretty rough—even with the stipend. Your parents invited me to be a part of your home while your father worked his ass off to settle the estate. He saved me from years of chasing my inheritance.”

“Do you think he or my mother would approve of what you are doing now?” Ava’s voice hardened. “After their kindness to you?”

Kingston chuckled without amusement, irritated by the prick of guilt her words produced. “I highly doubt it. But I’m not the same person your father and mother knew then. Things are different now.”

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