Page 39 of Savage Revenge

I’m sure Carver is considered good-looking to women, too, but we couldn’t be more opposite. Where I’m a tattooed, scarred, and twisted motherfucker, Elliott is a damn trust fund, polo-wearing pretty boy who looks like he should be on the golf course instead of in the world of gambling.

Elliott chuckles, and then his expression sobers. “My condolences about your dad. I was at the service, but I didn’t want to approach out of respect for your privacy.”

An ache forms in my chest, and I dip my chin. “Thanks. It’s been a rough time.”

Elliott goes to the wet bar in the corner of his overly modern and minimalist office and pours us both a drink. When he hands it to me, I don’t hesitate, hoping the burn will help soothe the pain that flares at every mention of my father.

“Another?” Elliott asks with a smirk, holding up the decanter of liquor.

I shake my head and set the glass on the table. “I just wanted to stop by to give you a heads-up.”

His eyebrows furrow, and he turns toward me, his hip resting against the white cabinet.

There is too much white in this place. Floor tiles. Walls. Furniture. It’s awful. I couldn’t imagine having to clean up blood off the floor. Every single drop would show.

“So this isn’t a social call. What can I do for you, Cash?”

“There might be some heat coming. Between my family and Thomas Kingston.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “What kind of heat?”

“The messy kind that ends with death.”

“What did Kingston do? I know your two families have never liked each other, but I didn’t think it was that deep.”

“Thomas Kingston had my father killed.”

Elliott goes still. His glass pauses midair. “Thomas Kingston? You’re sure about that?”

I nod. “Pretty sure.”

“What are you going to do to him?”

I meet his eyes. “I’m going to kill him.”

Elliott doesn’t flinch. Just lets out a breath. “Jesus Christ, Cash. You always go straight for the throat.”

“If someone executed your father in the back, what would you do?”

“I’m not sure, honestly,” he answers slowly. “Is Thomas back in the country?”

My gaze snaps to Elliott. “How did you know he was out of the country?”

Elliott shrugs. “I tried to organize a meeting with him about the skybridge we’re negotiating between my casino and his, but his secretary said he was in Paris.”

Good. Cassian is in the right place.

I nod, thoughtful, as I run my fingers over the scruff along my jaw. “Well, until he returns, I have a little pawn stored away.”

“A pawn?” Elliott asks curiously.

I hesitate for a second. Then decide, fuck it. “I’ve got Jordyn Kingston.”

The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “You’re holding her?”

“She’s not tied up, if that’s what you mean. But she’s not exactly free to leave, either. Not until I get some information from her or find her father.”

Elliott stares at me for a long moment, his face unreadable. “That’s… a hell of a move, Savage.”

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