Page 29 of Savage Revenge

Because as much as I don’t want to want Jordyn, I don’t think I can control my urges for much longer.

I move to her bathroom and grab half a dozen skincare bottles that are displayed near the sink. Then I move to the vanity, and a red bottle immediately catches my eye. Small and square. It’s the only bottle of perfume in here. I reach for it and read the label.

Electric Cherry by Tom Ford.

I knew there was cherry in it. I uncap it and bring it to my nose.

Fuck.

That’s so good.

It’s slightly different smelling it in the bottle compared to when I get a hit of it straight from her. It’s even better on Jordyn, but this is close enough to feed my seemingly growing addiction.

Finally, I pocket the perfume, then move on to grabbing a few other random things that look like they’re used regularly. I want her to feel at home at my house.

Maybe in my bed, too.

For the time being.

She’s stilloutside when I get back. Same lounge chair. A bottle of water and a small charcuterie plate next to her. Fucking Birdie. My damn housekeepers are going to make Jordyn feel like she’s staying at a fucking resort.

As badly as I want to, I don’t go out to her. Instead, I carry her bags upstairs, drop them on her bed, and head downstairs to the front door. If I stay in this house, I’ll end up doing something I can’t take back. Something I shouldn’t even be thinking about.

Work is the smart choice.

It will keep me distracted.

Anything to get her out of my head. Even if it’s only for a little while.

Because I’m starting to think this girl isn’t just a fucking Kingston.

She’s a curse, and I might be under her spell.

The casino has beenalive all night. Nothing but a blur of poker chips, cash, cards, and dice as I walk through one of our game floors.

It’s business as usual.

And I don’t give a fuck about any of it.

I nod at our employees as I pass, exchange short words with management and security here and there, running on autopilot the entire time. Once I’ve confirmed everyone has what they need and our players are happy, I head into my office and turn on the casino floor surveillance, watching mindlessly.

It’s boring and repetitive, but I’m not really paying attention. My mind is constantly racing, in two places at once.

One in the ground, where my father is buried, and the other is at the house where Jordyn fucking Kingston is lying on one of my lounge chairs, wearingmyshirt and living it up like it’sherkingdom.

I press my thumb and forefinger into my eyes and sigh. A few seconds later, I grab my phone and text the lead detective who is working on my father’s case.

Cash: Any updates?

Detective Herrera: Nothing new. We’re doing everything we can, Cash. We’ll find whoever it was.

They might be doing whatever they can, but it’s still not enough. How the fuck can a man be shot on Las Vegas Boulevard and yet no one saw anything, and the cameras have no footage? It makes me think it must be a local who has a lot of connections.

I switch over to the group text I share with my brothers.

Cash: Anything from Cassian?

Kian: Not yet. He’s working on tracking Kingston down.

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