Page 197 of Filthy Royal

“That’s why he hasn’t left yet.” Luc voiced another of Damien’s not-so-recent realizations. “Darvish should have scurried away already, but he hasn’t. Because he wants Scarlett for himself.”

“Yes,” snarled Damien, “but he’s not fucking getting her.”

“On that, we finally agree.”

But Damien knew they were running out of time. Because Darvish wanted Scarlett badly and wouldn’t linger forever when it came to getting her back. He wasn’t stupid, and he knew Damien was closing in. He’d cut and run, fading into whatever other identity he’d constructed for himself, continuing his scheming, just as he always did—taking his information about Zaya along with him.

So Damien needed to act fast. And he needed to gather as much intel as possible, so even if Darvish ran, he couldn’t outrun them.

Confident there was no imminent ambush heading their way, Damien shoved his laser into the back of his leathers and studied his ex-friend. Fucker had died a painful death.

At least that was something.

Though Damien would have preferred to dole out the execution himself—after squeezing every last piece of useful information he could get from Crex about Darvish and his sister Zaya.

Of course Darvish had stolen that opportunity from him.

But his half brother had left him something else.

Damien swiped away the blood on the vid monitor from the stapling and read the rest of the message:Bring the omega to what was Consortium headquarters in exchange for this recording. Otherwise, this will be released, and I’ll reclaim my pet anyway.

“Twisted fuck.” Luc’s fangs flashed. “Does he honestly think we’ll do it?”

“Guess he’s used the same leverage to control Scarlett before, so thinks it’s worth a shot.”

“Well, it’s not going to work.”

“He likely knows that too.” So what the hells was the point of it all? Damien’s gut blared louder. Darvish was clever, a strategist who played the long game. There’d be a purpose to all this. So, beyond the obvious attempt at intimidation, why leave Crex and the message?

“Why kill him though?” Luc stared at Crex with a mix of fury and pity.

“To tie up loose ends. Those around Darvish have a habit of dying once they’ve outlived their usefulness. Plus, Darvish is smart, and he knows what makes Scarlett tick. If there’s a chance she’ll see or hear about this, he wants her to wonder if he’ll do this to someone loyal to him, what will he do to those who stand against him? Which is why we won’t tell her and let him mess with her head.”

“Agreed. You see those scratches?” Luc gestured with his chin toward the chair’s armrest. “Looks like Crex tried to claw out a message before he died.” He peered at it. “Close 2 U. What the hells does that mean?” Luc swiveled his head around as if expecting something to jump out at them.

“No clue. But from what I know of the real Crex, we can assume there’s nothing altruistic about those scratches, that’s for sure.”

“True. The guy was the worst kind of Alpha.” Luc spat at Crex. “I hope he’s in every hells there is.”

Damien tapped the vid screen. “Let’s take a look at what Darvish wanted us to see.”

Between the blood streaks, a grainy image appeared on the screen before quickly sharpening into focus.

“Fuck me.” Luc’s body went tight. “Of course.”

It was a vid of him and Kadon.

“We don’t need to watch it,” Luc snarled. “I’ve seen plenty. Fucker filmed us several times before we realized.” He reached for the monitor. “I was weak.”

Damien smacked his hand away. “You weren’t weak. Weak is letting ego or pride rule you. Believe me, I know. Going after what you want takes courage.”

Luc said nothing.

Damien considered staying quiet. But when had he ever? “I waited far too long with your sister,” he admitted. “Don’t make the same mistake.”

Luc’s breath shuddered out of him. “I’ve grown up hearing how I feel is wrong. Telling myself the same.” He shook his head. “Plus, there’s so much to lose. Kadon—”

“Would do anything for you.” Damien wasn’t sure why he kept pushing. Maybe because he knew it would make Scarlett happy. Maybe because he still felt he had something to prove to this male. Or maybe he simply recognized another’s pain—having been that low himself so recently—and didn’t want anyone else to suffer like that. “Stormhart keeps saying he knows what crazy, obsessed love looks like, and take a hint, it’s because he looks in the mirror and sees it in his eyes every rotation.”

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