Page 16 of Deviant Knight

Forcing my gaze to move back to my laptop screen, I continue the task I set out to do once Krishna dozed off. We didn’t fuck. That was sated once outside his torture and kill house and then a few hours later after we’d thoroughly beat the shit out of each other. To everyone else, it’s called training. To him, it’s fun. To me, it’s letting my demons out on the one person that’s strong enough to handle them. I hold back on Ren and Sienna, even the time Sasha and I went toe to toe.

Had I known Sasha was carrying my niece or nephew, I would have punished her and made her submit another way. I’m glad I hadn’t known, though a droplet of guilt still resides inside my chest for hurting a pregnant woman. I keep it buried deep within my soul, where I shove anything and everything I’m not proud of, so it’s not at the forefront of my conscience. Otherwise, it’s a distraction, and I can’t allow those to reside within me, like now, while I’m supposed to be combing through Liam O’Donovan’s hidden financial records.

He has many, even one in Ciera’s name.Not that she’d know that. It’s not uncommon for criminals to set up bogus accounts in the names of common people. It’s easier than creating a fake alias. I am surprised it’s the largest monetary account I’ve found so far. I know there are more, and I’ll find them all. It’s only a matter of time. And then I’m going to take them all. From Liam, from his brother, Owen, and from Cormac. They and their men will all be living in a gutter soon enough. I just have to cut off the head of the snake first. That serpent being Liam O’Donovan—the sickest of them all.

Once I figure out just how far down into the pits of Hell his organization reaches and what sins he’s committed, I will destroy him and take pleasure in drawing it out.

Ever since I dug into the police commissioner’s misdeeds and discovered his connection to Liam, there’s been something about Owen’s brother that rubs me the wrong way. The mere thought of him boils my blood. The evidence I’ve come across so far leads me to believe the rumor circulating that he’s not only a pedophile but also the puppet master himself. He uses children to gain blackmail material on other powerful men, and that makes me see red.

I found a ten-second video clip that was airdropped from a stolen smartphone to the personal cellular device of Carter McKenzie, our U.S. congressman that’s rumored to be running in an upcoming election for a bigger house in the next few years as President of the United States.

The clip showed the congressman’s face clearly, as well as his naked torso, which was covering a young girl’s body from behind. Thankfully, not much of the girl could be seen because I could barely stomach watching the few seconds I saw. She wasn’t his wife, who has naturally blonde hair, cut and styled into a pixie. From research, I’ve learned his wife has sported that same style since her college days more than twenty years ago.

What gave it away that the female was likely underage was her small stature compared to his height of five-feet-ten-inches tall. The girl was much shorter with chipped painted nails that were cut back to the nail bed. Women don’t typically have messy nails. You see that more often on children, and that thought sickened me.

I figured out the video was at least five years old, maybe more, judging by the older branding of a viewable soda can. I may not have even seen it had it not fallen off the desk from the force McKenzie was putting into his sexual actions.

The knowledge he hurt her in that way makes me want to have done to him what he put her through. Her body was shaking in a way that you know she was crying uncontrollably.

Although the video was taken a while ago, the clip was transmitted a few months ago. I was able to link the congressmen’s location when it came through, and since it was airdropped, that meant the person who sent it was in close proximity to McKenzie.

Luckily for me, McKenzie had been sitting in the back of a car that was parked in front of a coffee shop. One of his lackeys was inside getting him a latte, and through surrounding cameras, I figured out who transmitted the video to the congressman’s phone. He was seated at an outdoor table, sipping his own coffee from the same barista.

The stupid fuck hadn’t been as slick as I’m sure he thought he was being. He kept glancing over at the town car despite it having tinted windows. I linked him back to Liam O’Donovan. He was the son of Liam’s second in command back in Dublin.

My little bride-to-be doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to help me bring her entire family to their knees, and then I’m going to make her set the fire. She can ignite the inferno, or she can burn with them. After all, to be a Caputo, you must earn your place, prove your loyalty, and sacrifice yourself for the family.

Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t have what it takes. There may be a spitfire that lives within her when I’m challenging her, maybe even the slightest backbone, but she wasn’t raised like Krishna and me or like our siblings.

Sasha—my brother’s wife and Krishna’s sister—didn’t want the life we were born into, but even she would go down with the ship to save those she loves. She sacrificed herself to save my brother. She went toe to toe with her enemy and won. She fought for who and what she wanted.

For that, she gained my respect and my loyalty. It won’t stop me from taunting her and keeping her in check, but I would give my life to save her, the same as Ren, my sister, and my dad.

Ciera, on the other hand, is a Fitzgerald. She was raised by the worst of them. She wasn’t taught family values. They only know how to save themselves, even if it means at the cost of thefamily. They’re greedy and value power and money above all else.

To keep my family safe and to have my mother back, I would give up every monetary resource I have at my fingertips. Material possessions are meaningless things. Life is everything and something I will go to great lengths to protect when it comes to the ones I deem as mine.

My little Irish pet isn’t one of them.

She’s a pussycat I have no qualms sacrificing for the greater good. The Irish are going down, and Ciera is my tool to ensure that happens without a hitch.

I’m about to click enter on my keyboard when a blood-curdling scream sends a ripple of fear down my spine. My eyes snap to the open window in my bedroom that faces the backyard. The terrifying sound didn’t come from inside. It was outside or in the pool house.

Shoving the laptop off my lap, I leap out of bed and snatch the semi-automatic weapon from my bedside table before I’m out the door in the next breath.

* * *

When I racedthrough the kitchen, exiting the back door, the clock on the double oven read 2:04. I should have been asleep, but I haven’t been a sound sleeper since I was nine. When my mother was murdered, it was no longer my job to ensure the twins were protected. I had to have my dad’s back too.

For that reason, I’ve always kept a crack in my bedroom window to be able to hear any noise that’s out of the ordinary. We have a tight security system, but even I know with the right knowledge and skillset, it can be bypassed. Tonight, and even last night, I had it wide open with the sheer black curtains pulled away and secured with a decorative rope to the sides of the window.

I didn’t knock before I entered the only door in and out of the pool house. I don’t observe my surroundings or check for danger as I leap inside either when another scream comes. This one more bone-chilling than the first and louder now that I’m in close proximity toher.

Racking the slide on my handgun, I chamber a round, something that would have already been in place had I not stopped keeping a loaded gun now that Brooklyn is living in the house.

I’ve told my sister’s stepdaughter that she is not to touch any weapon for any reason. I can’t take chances anymore now that we have her in the house and more on the way, so I changedmyways, at least as much as I’m willing.

Stepping barefoot onto the soft carpet inside the first of two bedrooms, I see Giovanni looming over Ciera. More anger than I’ve ever felt sweeps through me, almost knocking the breath from my lungs.

---