Page 5 of Savage Revenge

Beckett follows me, his jaw clenched. “Let’s find this bastard. The sooner, the better. They don’t deserve to breathe for another day.”

No, they don’t. And soon, they won’t. They may have shot my father in the back so he couldn’t see it coming, but I’m going to make damn sure this motherfucker sees, feels, tastes, and hears me coming. Because I’m notjustgoing to hurt them. I’m going toendthem. The only difference is, I’m not a coward who shoots someone in the back, so they’re going to watch me pull the trigger.

Kian and Xander follow us into the house. After I disarm the security alarm, the automatic lights turn on around us, illuminating the grand entrance. Every inch of my dad’s house is pristine. Gleaming marble and luxury artwork that most people could never afford. But right now, it’s suffocating. I can feel him all around me, the scent of his cigars and spicy aftershave a permanent memory, and I fucking hate it. I always teased him and told him he needed to up his cologne game. He refused because my mom loved what he wore. Now, I realize I would do anything to smell it on him again. It was part of him, and now it’s an awful reminder that he’s not actually here.

We head to his office first and spread out, each of us looking through something. Files, phones, laptops, calendars. Our dad was a workaholic, so he spent most of his time here when he was home. There were times he’d call me at two in the morning, and he’d still be up working in here. Jack Savage took immense pride in two things. His family. And his work.

It's too quiet. The air is too stale. Instead of being filled with the aroma of his never-ending espressos, it smells like a stranger’s office.

“We search everything,” I say as I walk behind the solid mahogany desk. “Drawers, files, phone, computers. All of it.”

“Does anyone else have an idea of who they think it might be?” Xander asks as he starts yanking drawers open.

Something prickles at the back of my neck as I open his laptop and turn it on. “I have an idea, but there’s a difference between being business enemies and murder. I want to be sure before I destroy his life.”

Beckett rubs his jaw, his eyes sunken like he still hasn’t rested since we buried our dad a week ago. “Kingston?”

I nod without looking up from the screen.

Thomas Kingston and my dad had been practically at war since I was born. They hated each other. Thomas hated my dad because my mom chose him over Thomas, and my dad hated Thomas because he tried to come between my parents when they first started dating. That’s when it all started, and it’s gotten worse ever since. The two men would find anything they could to fuck with each other. They would get into bidding wars over available casinos, and it burned Kingston that my father usually won. Our footprint in this city is bigger than anyone else’s, and our pockets have always shown it, making it nearly impossible for other businesses to grow their own portfolios here unless they come from money. Like the Carver family. But they’ve always been happy with the share of hotels and casinos they have so they aren’t even on our radar.

We spend the next hour going through everything we can with nothing catching our attention. I meticulously read everything on the laptop, but other than the usual business emails, I don’t find anything concerning. I’m still going to have a trusted IT expert download it to see if I’ve missed something.

I reach down and yank open one of the heavy desk drawers, my gaze snapping to it when I hear a rattle inside.

A phone.

Not his everyday phone that the police took from his body when he was shot. This one is older and shoved beneath a stack of envelopes.

As soon as I pick it up, the screen lights up. My jaw tightens as I press the home button and navigate toward the calls and messages. Only one name pops up in both.

Thomas Kingston.

“What the fuck?” I mutter.

My brothers crowd around me when I open one of the messages.

Thomas Kingston: Leave it alone or your days are numbered, Savage. This is my deal. Not yours.

The room goes still. We’re frozen like statues. We came here looking for something, but I wasn’t sure we’d find anything. Not this easily.

Finally, Beckett takes a breath. “What does that mean?”

I scroll up to the earlier messages, but they’ve been deleted. From both sides. The entire string except the last one.

Xander uses both hands to rub his tired face and longer-than-normal beard. Normally, it’s five o’clock shadow length, but like the rest of us, he’s been just existing this past week. “What deal is he talking about?”

Kian takes the phone from me to look at it closely. I push between them and walk over to the window before opening it and pulling out a cigarette. Just as I light it, Xander straightens. “The deal for The Sapphire. Dad and Kingston were bidders on it until…”

“Until our father was shot in the back three days before it was due to be finalized. That motherfucker got it handed to him on a silver fucking platter at half of what Dad offered because Savage Entertainment didn’t transfer to us in time for the final signoff.” My hands tremble, and my heart feels like it’s about to stop beating. Breathing is becoming impossible. Is this for real? Kingston? He killed my dad for adeal?Part of me can’t believe it.

I’ve sat in meetings with the man, and he’s always a dick, but I respected him for that. After all, I’m a dick in business, too. That’s how it’s done in the world of money, skin, and gambling. This isn’t the type of corporate bullshit you see in most organizations. In Las Vegas, we might as well be organized crime bosses. Things are different once you pass that Welcome to Las Vegas sign.

Why now, though? Why would Kingston wait all these years to kill him?

“What does he mean, ‘this is my deal, not yours’?” Kian asks.

Cold sweat gathers at the back of my neck as my pulse races dangerously fast. “It doesn’t matter what it means. What matters is that Kingston is responsible for killing our dad, and now we’re going to destroy him and everything he holds dear to his heart.”

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