Page 54 of Fortress of the King

I know all too well what he’s like.

“But, man, that rack.” He whistles down the phone.

I laugh, knowing full well I paid for that rack of Tiffany’s but say nothing of the sort. I’m also not at the stage to be telling any of my brothers I banged Rayne all night or that she works for the gallery. I don’t need their judgment or their catcalling.

“It gets old pretty fast,” I mutter. “You should try staying in some time, you party way too much.”

He snorts. “What the hell would I wanna do that for?”

Touché, really, it’s easy come, easy go in our world, yet one thing I’ve learned is getting too carried away with the gambling, the booze, and the women means you get easily burnt out.

You can’t do it forever, I keep telling them all this, but none of them listen.

Maybe that’s why I’ve got little Rayne Michaelson on the brain.

I don’t know exactly what’s different about her because I can’t pinpoint it to one thing alone, but I know it’s more than just attraction.

I’ve been around long enough to know that much and how I feel when my heart almost stops when I’m buried deep inside her. She’s so tight it’s like the first time all over again.

“You’re right. Keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll burn out soon enough, and you’ll end up screwing anything that moves, but eventually, you’ll end up sad, twisted, and alone.”

“Like you?” He laughs.

Fucking pretty boy.

“Very funny, asshole. I’ve gotta go, unless you’ve got anything else newsworthy to say that I don’t know already?”

“I know I’m your favorite brother, you don’t have to admit it.”

“Stop wasting my time,” I growl. “Find out when this next gambling run is going down. I want to be prepared.”

“On it.”

When I click off, I call Marco to find out how the permits are going so we can start building the apartments. Time is money. I can tell by his earlier texts that he’s not in the best of moods. When things don’t go Marco’s way, he sees only red.

Later, I head to Fortress and sweat it out in the gym. We have every known state-of-the-art piece of equipment known to mankind in there with mirrors surrounding the whole goddamned place that’s the size of a six-car garage.

We’re not often all there at the same time; sometimes, Enzo and I sweat it out or have a few rounds in the ring. I like coming here to work out, it’s one of the only times I’m ever really alone without Gus or security hanging around me or my phone ringing off the hook.

While I’m punching the bag, I work out some of my frustrations in life, and I always feel better afterward when I’ve got it all out.

I start thinking about my beach house in West Falmouth because I haven’t been there in so long. It’s a massive property out on an elevated peninsula reaching out from the Saconesset Hills between the Great and Little Sippewissett marshes. It’s a summer house, more like a safe house, registered under a fake name under a hidden company of mine, so no one except my immediate family knows about it.

It’s my paradise. Set entirely on the beachfront with twenty-three acres. A place I use as refuge once or twice a year to forget my cares of the world for a while and totally switch off.

Something stirs in me about taking Rayne there, I’ve no fucking clue why I would do that, but it’s on so many acres of land we could hide away for a few days and nobody would know about it, no prying eyes.

When I’ve pounded it out enough in the gym, I rip my boxing gloves off and pull out my cell. The other thing I’ve been meaning to do, other than calling Rayne to take her out again, is sort out that piece of shit ex-husband of hers. I don’t think he’ll bother her again after I broke his arm, but you never know, some fuckers just need to learn the hard way. If he reaches out to her again or sends her anything through her lawyer, I’ll slit his throat myself. It isn’t like he’s dropped the ridiculous alimony claim in her divorce settlement, I know that for a fact.

The guy is a complete scum bag, and it’d be my pleasure to send him to the bottom of the Charles.

However, I’ve got business to attend to, and they may or may not include doing away with her ex-husband; I’m in that kind of mood.

I dial Gus, who, as usual, answers on the second ring. “Have the car ready in an hour at Fortress.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

I hang up. One thing’s for sure, I can’t wait to be back inside Rayne again. I’m calmer whenever she’s near, like all the storms in my life pale by comparison to her beauty.

I know she sees straight through me; she looks at the devil inside me and doesn’t care that he’s corrupt and has no soul. And that’s the part I like the most.

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