Page 89 of Twisted Kings

Kyril cursed and waded in while Cassian grabbed Landon’s leg and got kicked in the face for his trouble. I sighed. This wasn’t helping.

A glass table shattered, sending shards of glass all over the expensive thick-pile carpet. For fuck’s sake. If they didn’t stop acting like teenagers, we’d be thrown out of the building and left without a bed for the night.

It was New Year’s Eve. No decent hotel would have rooms left this evening, and I wasn’t in the mood for a bunk in a hostel.

The ostentatious vase of flowers on a nearby sideboard caught my attention. I tossed the flowers away and tipped the water over Landon and Dario.

They pulled apart, spluttering with disgust. “What the fuck was that?” Dario grimaced, plucking a leaf off his face. “It smells rank.”

Landon sniffed his shirt and winced. “Agreed. I need a hot shower and some bleach.”

Kyril shook his head while Cassian rubbed his tender jaw where Lan’s foot had left a bruise.

Fighting among ourselves wasn’t helping anyone, but as much as I hated to admit it, Dario had made some good points. If Cass didn’t go home soon, Lucian was likely to unleash hell on us all. And if Vasily couldn’t regain control of his wayward son, he might decide to do the same.

We needed a plan. And soon.

40

Landon

Dario’s taunt echoed around my head. He’d tapped into my insecurities with aplomb. Now that my father had cut me off without a penny, I had nothing except my looks and sparkling personality to keep me afloat.

The only talent I had was seducing women. Something my dad had long since recognized. Thanks to my natural charisma, women buzzed around me like flies on a steaming pile of manure, eager for whatever I could offer them. As the heir to the Rothmore family fortune, built over centuries of fortuitous allegiances and canny business deals, my dance card was always full at parties.

Ever since I came of age, Dad had used this to his advantage, sending me off to charm and seduce women who were useful to him. Many of the women I’d slept with were married and didn’t want their husbands to know.

Blackmail was a powerful tool in the wrong hands. Apply a little pressure, and threaten to release a video or photographs. People always caved in eventually.

I stared as steaming hot water cascaded over my head. Dad had called me this afternoon. Left me a voicemail, which I’d picked up when we arrived.

The message had been to the point. If I did thisone thingfor him, he’d forgive my transgressions and welcome me back into the family fold with open arms. Restore my credit cards and pay my tuition at Abernethy for another year.

At first glance, agreeing to his demand seemed like the sensible thing to do. It was an easy enough job. Take the wife of one of his business partners out for lunch, get her drunk, escort her back to her house, and let her do whatever she wanted to me.

Dad had concerns about Anton’s loyalty. He was worried Anton might not vote the right way at the next board meeting, which meant some leverage would come in useful.

Anton’s wife, Monica, had a crush on me, so it wouldn’t take much to push her in the right direction.

Women like that were typically starved of affection. Men like Anton treated their wives as little more than possessions. The women had no power. No agency. No money of their own.

Was it so surprising that with a few kind words and some flattery, they were putty in my hands?

Water dripped off my nose as the bathroom filled with steam. Milo tapped on the door, but I ignored him. There were three other bathrooms in this apartment he could use if he was desperate.

I tugged on my hair, relishing the bite of pain as a few strands broke free. All I wanted to do right now was scream into the void. Instead, I swallowed my pain. It tasted vile, like the worst kind of toxic waste.

Dad had given me until tomorrow. If I wasn’t back in Scotland by the second of January, as far as he was concerned, I was no longer his son and heir. Whether Mom agreed with that decision, I had no clue.

Not that it mattered. I wasn’t going back. Even if Thea didn’t want me, I couldn’t carry on fucking random women. For one thing, I wasn’t even sure if I could get it up anymore, and for another, my heart wasn’t in it.

She was the only woman I wanted, and if I couldn’t have her, I would rather not have anyone.

Someone hammered on the bathroom door, but from the noise, it was not Milo this time.

“Get your ass out of there, Landon,” Kyril yelled. “We need to talk before Thea gets back.”

I grumbled, turned the shower off, and grabbed a towel. Since all my clothes were still in a crumbled mess, I had nothing decent - or clean - to wear. It sucked to be me.Dammit.I missed having access to a personal shopper. Lizzie was kind of annoying in that she had a huge crush on me, but the woman knew her shit when it came to picking clothes that made me look hotter than the average bear.

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