Page 48 of Forever After All

Marcus clicks on his phone, his smug smile slowly transforming into disbelief.

“It doesn’t work? Your phone is fried, huh? What a coincidence,” I say, my tone threatening.

Marcus laughs, the sound hysterical, crazy. “I have backups. I’m not stupid,” he says, just as three black cars pull up at the curb.

“Yeah. So do I,” I tell him.

Aiden and the rest of my security team step out of the cars, guns strapped to their waists. Standing there in their black suits, even I have to admit they look intimidating as hell.

“Boss,” Aiden says, and I tip my head towards Marcus’s front door.

“He says he’s got backups of something I want destroyed, so I guess we have no choice. Destroy every single thing in that house and bring me every single piece of electronics he owns—but smash it to pieces first.”

Marcus charges me, but my men have him restrained within seconds. I glance at Lucian and sigh. “That’s who you fell for? Seriously?”

He looks distraught, and I regret teasing him immediately. I wrap my arm around him and sigh. “Everything will be okay, kiddo,” I tell him. “But we need to work on your taste in men. Elena seems to have good taste. She can give you some pointers.”

Lucian laughs, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You have no idea what I’ve done to your brother,” Marcus yells. “I’ve had him suck my dick. I’ve stretched out his little ass. Had him yelling my name.”

Lucian wraps his arms around himself, his head down. His cheeks are red, and he looks humiliated beyond belief. I grab one of the remaining eggs and hand it to one of my men.

“Gag this asshole. I’m done hearing from him. Matter of fact, it seems like it might be best to never hear from him again.” I turn to my little brother and raise my brow. “Do you want me to make him disappear?”

Before Lucian can even answer me, police sirens sound from a distance. I glance at Marcus. He looks fucking stupid standing there with an egg in his mouth, but the victorious glint in his eyes is what pisses me off.

“This motherfucker managed to call the police before Elliot fried his shit.”

I sigh and pull out my phone, hating that I now have to ask for a favor. I manage to get the Director General of the Police on the line just as the police car parks in front of us. Two agents step out of the car, their guns drawn, their eyes on the men that are restraining Marcus.

“Afternoon, officers,” I say, nodding.

They point their guns at me, and I sigh. “Terrible idea,” I mutter. “Could you please tell me your name, rank, and station?”

Both of them blink, startled for just a second. They know as well as I do that they have to provide me with the information I asked for, and they do it grudgingly.

“Got all that?” I ask the Director General.

“Got it,” he repeats. “But you owe me, Alexander.”

I grit my teeth. “I know,” I say, ending the call.

I glance at Marcus with renewed hatred before turning back to the police officers in front of me.

“Now, I’m going to need you to let this man go,” one of them says, his voice calm, his gun aimed directly at me. I have to admire his temperament. We’ve got them outnumbered at least five to one, but it doesn’t faze him.

“I’m afraid I’ll be doing no such thing,” I tell him, feeling somewhat bad for him.

Lucian is clutching my sleeve while Elena’s hand trembles in mine. I hate that I put them in this situation. This isn’t something either of them should have to experience, and this is entirely on me. I’m the one that brought them here. I should’ve known to come alone.

“I regret to inform you,” I tell the officer, glancing at my watch, “that in less than a minute your receiver will inform you to stand back.”

He glances at the device strapped to his waist and laughs. When he looks back at me, it’s clear that he thinks he’s dealing with a psycho of some sort. He wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

He grabs his receiver and raises it to his lips to ask for backup, and I can’t even blame the guy. Unfortunately for him, his device crackles just as he’s about to speak. “Stand down. Leave the premises at once,” I can just about make out, recognizing the Director General’s voice. Both the officers look shocked and take a step back to request more information, their voices low, but eventually I see their shoulders sag.

They look at me, and the annoyance in their eyes is justified. I bet they became police officers because they wanted to make the world a better and safer place, only to come to the realization that none of it matters—this world is ruled by money. It always has been.

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