Page 62 of Brutal Collateral

Connor gives me a side-eye. “What’s left of him.”

“Who killed him?” Ares asks. “I want details on how you murdered him if he’s in pieces.”

I tilt my head to Ava, giving her credit.

“Ikilled him.” She slowly raises her hand. “With his own knife. I shredded him for what he did to me. Me.” With every sentence her fire roars to life.

Thereshe is...

Fuck, her anger turns me on.

“Then your years in the military paid off,” Ares says and glances at me ready to keep discussing our meeting.

Dismissing her.

No one dismissesmy wife.

I ball my hands into fists and lay a death stare on this Greek king. Jesus, I have to teach these Zervas Gods how to be human.

“Ava,” he begins, catching my demand that he respect her. And that it will come with the force of my fist if I have to do it twice. “I’m proud of you. And I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.”

“Fuck, Zervas, that almost sounds sincere.” Connor grips his shoulder. “There’s hope for you yet.”

“Remove your hand from me or I remove it from your body,” Ares sneers, cold and calculating.

Connor lifts his hand, smirking. These two will get along. Ares has a club and that’s Connor’s jam.

“As I was saying...” I clear my throat to get their attention. “The meeting to discuss how we announce Brandon’s death—”

“I’ll have an assistant send you my schedule,” Ares interrupts me.

He’s got an assistant? Damn, I need one, I guess.

“Give it to me right now,” I say. “I’m not playing email tag with you. Tomorrow, here, noon. The guy’s mother is still alive and needs to be dealt with. Who the hell knows who she’s connected to.”

“I’m not free tomorrow,” Ares says in that cool English accent.

“Clear your schedule, Zervas.” I grip Ava’s hand. “I saved your fucking sister’s life today.”

“You found her, but it sounds like she saved herownlife,” he taunts me.

“Two guards were rushing back to the building.” Shane pipes up from across the room. “One of the guards on duty sent them a signal. They had orders to rape and kill her if Brandon died.”

“We have those guards in a holding cell, thinking about what they want their last meals to be,” Connor adds.

“Ava, Aunt Lena’s maid is packing up your clothes and a courier will bring them here.” Ares ignores me, staring at her. “Although, you’ve lost a lot of weight. Much of it won’t fit you anymore.” He takes out his wallet. “Here is my credit card.”

I slap it out of his hand, the plastic snapping against the marble foyer tiles. “I’ll take care of what she needs.”

Ares growls, but to be a peacekeeper, Shane picks up the card. “Guys. We’re family.”

“Not yet.” Ares rips the card from Shane, then stares at his phone. “Atlas and I can meet you tomorrow at two-thirty, my club’s office.”

“I’ll do two-thirty, but here in my office. Where your sister will be living.”

Ares’ jaw jumps. “I’d like to speak to my sister alone, if possible.”

This is exhausting, and I need another drink. That Jameson from the wedding has long worn off.

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