Page 4 of With This Ring

I cross my arms over my chest, meeting the cold eyes of my father. Thinking back, I can’t remember him looking at me with anything other than disdain. I’m not sure why his approval means so much. “So, what do you want me to do now? Fucking apologize?”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he stands from his desk and steps over to the window in his office. “No. Dominic and I will square it away. I need you to go down to The Fox Club and tap Carl. That cocksucker stole money from me and don’t think I know. I want you to make an example of that bitch. Teach him not to fuck with the St. Clair family.”

The Fox Club is the family lounge, catering to old men that like to drink brandy, smoke cigars, and talk about the glory days. It has a crew of regulars and sometimes some suits like to come in and brag about bullshit after work. It’s a good spot that rakes in a lot of dough.

I nod, smiling. He finally gave me an assignment I’m happy to do. He sent me to the casino to tell Dominic that he had the plan in place, though he wouldn’t tell me what the fucking plan was. I had every intention of delivering the message, but the craps table was calling me, and I felt lucky.

“No problem,” I utter, standing and buttoning my jacket. When I got home, Pop sent me up to my room to clean myself up and put on a new suit. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to fuck off, but I didn’t want to hear a lecture about respect. “Anything else? I can take care of Andy too.” Andy is the manager of The Fox Club who had to know money was missing, but didn’t tell Pop.

“No,” Pop says, turning to me with a sinister smile. “Leave him to me.”

On my way out of his office, I motion to my guard, Nico, to join me. He strolls over, an easy grin on his face. “Who’s ass is on the chopping block today?”

I snicker as we step outside and slide into the back seat of my car. “Carl.”

“That prick. I fucking hate that weasel.”

Nico has the right of it. Carl was brought in by one of the old timers that works with Pop. I told Pop over and over therewas something I didn’t like about that clown. Now we have to kill two men—Carl and fucking Andy. Knowing that bozo, he was probably in on Carl having sticky fingers.

I grunt in agreement and push my hair back from my face. I hiss when my hand bumps against my eye. Fuck, Carter got in a good shot. Despite what I think about that prick, he has one hell of a right hook.

Nico studies me with a grin. “You good?”

“Fuck you,” I growl, making him laugh. Though Nico was in the thick of the melee, the most he has is a bruise high on his mahogany brown cheek. Besides me—and Carter, I chalk up reluctantly—Nico is a hell of a scrapper.

It’s not the first time Carter and I have gotten into it, but it is the first time we’ve both seemingly lost control. Usually, we’d trade a few blows and that’d be the end of it. This time, Carter seemed out for blood, and I wasn’t about to let that bitch get the best of me. If not for Pop pulling me off him, I would have choked him until he passed out.

With a loud laugh, Nico reaches over and pushes my hair over my shoulder and grips my chin. He studies my eye until I slap his hand away. “Put some ice on it when we get back or you’ll swell like a balloon.”

“Thanks, Nurse Nico,” I grumble. He laughs and shakes his head, sliding back to the other side of the seat. “Call ahead at The Fox Club. Tell Manuel to get the basement ready for me. This will take a while.”

I never use the basement in The Fox Club without my toys. Knives are my favorites. The sharper, the better. Taking the enemies of my family apart slice by slice is my happy place. I wish Carter could be at the other end of my blade, but Pop won’t allow it. But as soon as he does, I’ll poke him with so many holes, he’ll resemble a fucking sponge.

Once we step into The Fox Club, I nod at Nico for him to find Carl for me. I head down to the basement, removing my jacket and rolling up my sleeves as I trot down the stairs. The table set up for me is over in the corner, and I feel a genuine smile tip up my lips as I make my way over to it.

I look down at the lovely assortment of knives on display. If I’d had one when I was at the casino with Carter, I would have given him a bloody smile, consequences be damned.

I fucking hate that guy. His entire fucking family are fucking assholes, always in competition with ours. But thereisno competition. We have more money, more territory, more property, more legal businesses. We have more and we’re better.

Scuffling has me turning around in time to see Carl’s eyes widen as they land on the knives behind me. “No! No!” he shouts, fighting against the hold two of my men have on him. Nico steps around them, standing beside me with his arms crossed.

Ordinarily, I would have my prey chained up so I could have my fun, but I’m still feeling on edge from my fight with Carter and I want to work some of that excess energy off. I turn and pull a fillet knife from the table, twirling it around in my hand.

“Let him go,” I tell the men holding Carl. They drop Carl’s arms, and he’s so stunned, he doesn’t move; he simply stands in front of me, shaking. “I heard you had sticky fingers, Carl.”

He shakes his head, stepping back as if to put more space between us. One of my guys pushes him forward until he’s within arm’s reach of me. “No. It wasn’t my fault. It was Andy. He made me.”

I figured as much, but I didn’t think I’d get the answers to what I wanted to know so eagerly. Since he’s in a talkative mood, I decide to get some answers. “Why? Are you not making enough money? Is Andy broke? Why not come to us?”

He drops to his knees, raising his hands as if praying. “He said he wanted a house. That no one would know it was me and he would give me a cut. I never got no cut.”

“So, you’re gonna die with nothing to show for it.” I shake my head in mock disapproval.

“Please, Kai. I’m sorry. I’ll pay back every cent. With interest. Just don’t kill me.”

Annoyed, I kick him in the chest, causing him to fall back with a cry of pain. “Get off your fucking knees. Stand up.” After a few more beats, he stands, his hand on his chest as if he’s in pain. “You know the consequences of stealing from this family. But today, I’ll make you a deal. If you manage to slice me, I’ll let you live.”

“What?” he asks, looking back and forth between me and the table behind me. “If I slice you?”

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