Page 49 of Dukes of Peril

“Actually, it does involve her. But you don’t need to worry.” He walks over to the bar against the wall, uncapping a decanter to pour himself a glass of amber liquid. He pointedly doesn’t offer one to us. “Although it stands to reason the hit has made you paranoid.”

“I’m not paranoid,” I say, realizing that makes me seem more so. “The hit has been handled. Everything’s fine.”

“It seems to be,” he says, gesturing to the slick leather loveseat. Lavinia moves stiffly, reluctantly beside me, but takes the seat next to mine. Saul takes the armchair. “I’m not sure what you did, but it appears all signs of the contract are off.” He swirls the amber liquid in his glass. “Bravo.”

Lavinia relaxes a little, some of the strength returning to her voice when she says, “Is this about my father? Because if I could get him to back down on literally anything, I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now.”

I shoot her a dark look.

Well,thatthought is disconcerting.

“This is about DKS business,” he says, tipping the glass to his mouth. “Although it isn’tnotabout your father. Nothing can be in this town. You know that.”

“Frat business,” I repeat, impatient to get her out of here. “What kind?”

Saul gives me a look that says just how much he doesn’t care about my impatience. “Each year we have several obligations that require representation by the Dukes and Duchess. One is coming up in the near future.”

I clench my fists. “This is about that stupid charity carnival?” I gesture to Lavinia. “The Duchess is off limits. No one approaches her, talks to her, engages with her without coming through me or one of the Dukes. Am I clear?”

He looks up at me, lip quirked. “Didn’t like me seeing her weakness, did you? Your ‘Little Bird’ has a broken wing. A flaw.” He tsks. “But you should know by now there’s nothing stupid about a city-sponsored networking event, son.”

I return his stare evenly.

I’m not your fucking son.

Lavinia cuts in, “Saul–Mr. Cartwright–we already know about our duties for the carnival. I’ve already begun coordinating with the Lady. I’m prepared to do what’s necessary to have a successful event.”

He gives her a grin. “I’m glad to hear you say that because you’ll have a very specific role to play.”

Wringing her hands, she guesses, “What, like I have to man a booth or something?”

Saul looks between us, a low chuckle escaping. “The two of you don’t get it, do you? You still think this event is about cheesy carnival rides and inter-house charity.” He puts a hand to his chest. “How precious.”

“Tick tock,” I tell him, voice full of warning. “Say your part, Saul.”

“Very well.” He puts down his glass only to inspect his cigar, patting his jacket pocket for a lighter. “At the end of the carnival, DKS hosts an annual alumni poker game. These are large donors, you see. Theirgeneroussupport allows us to maintain properties like the clock tower and gym. They also help facilitate our other operations.”

This I understand perfectly: operations means guns.

These aren’t just alumni.

They’re customers.

Saul goes on. “Many of our brothers are powerful members of the community, with roots that run as deep as mine.” He presses the trigger on the lighter, torching the end of the cigar as he pins Lavinia with a stare. “And each of themstronglydislikes your father.”

Lavinia shrugs. “Who doesn’t?”

Seeing where this is going, I argue, “Lavinia isn’this, Saul. She’s ours. She’s a Duchess.”

“Yes, yes.” Saul waves a hand, the ember of his cigar casting a trail. “But they don’t see it that way. So you’ll understand how a… display of sorts is in order.”

“A display?” Lavinia passes me an uneasy glance. “What does that mean?”

He gives her a slow, sleazy smile, jamming the cigar between his teeth. “It means, little girl, that you’ll be their entertainment.”

That word–entertainment–can only mean a few select things in this town. When it’s about a girl, it narrows it down considerably. I shoot up, spitting, “Fuck that.”

Saul’s still grinning around his cigar, looking disgustingly satisfied. “She’ll dance, show her tits, give our brothers a little peek at what’s under that hood. She spent two years in a whorehouse. What’s a little skin between sworn brothers? Don’t you share?”

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