Page 14 of Reign By Wrath

He laughed. Three days, and we’d been having the same argument. Three days I’d been on a luxury yacht with the father I never knew, and it turned out he was a massive jerk.

He teased me, walked out in the middle of my pleas, laughed at my taunts, mercilessly beat me in every game we played, then hugged and kissed me good night even when I yelped and wriggled away from him. One didn’t become the leader of a criminal organization by being a pushover, and Alistair Burkhardt didn’t give an inch.

“My guys must be going out of their minds thinking that I’m dead. I can’t put them through that. It’s not fair to them.”

“That’s a nice sob story. Shame a violin wasn’t playing in the background.”

“Ugh, you’re such an asshole! What did Mom ever see in you?”

“I’m fantastic in bed.”

I blew back. “What in the hell. Are you trying to make up for eighteen years of not mentally scarring me for life!”

“Course. Now we’re together, I’ve got to make up for lost time.”

Groaning, I gave up and ate my eggs. The guy insisted that we eat breakfast together. Lunch and dinner, he was off making phone calls he wouldn’t let me overhear or tip-tapping away on his laptop that he wouldn’t let me near.

But for breakfast, he’d track me down wherever I was and eat with me. The day before, I locked myself in the bathroom with my spinach and egg white omelet, and the guy parked outside the door and ate on the floor, chattering at me the whole time.

“Tell me about your mother,” I mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

I lifted my shoulders, picking and nibbling on my breakfast. “You’ve talked about how terrible your father is. What about your mom? What’s she like?”

Alistair smiled. “You can just say that you want to know about this side of your family.”

“Paternity test,” I reminded, earning another laugh. “But I am curious about what goes on inside the Burkhardt mansion, that they’ve turned out one criminal mastermind and one succubus.”

Amusement was all over his face. “It was mentioned to me that you and my niece do not get along. Something about you selling her text messages for a couple hundred a pop?”

“How do you know all of these things? You’re floating in a rich man’s version of a prepper bunker in the middle of the ocean.”

He tapped his laptop. “See this thing? It’s a magic box that receives communications from anywhere in the world.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you,” he rebounded, enjoying himself entirely too much. “On a serious note, the highest collection of Rogues live in Regalia. I make it my business to know what they’re up to at all times. If my employees pick up other interesting information—such as my daughter striking the first significant blow against a Burkhardt in fifty years—they pass it on.”

“The highest collection of Rogues. Really? Who are they?”

He looked down his nose at me. “Why even ask? You know what I’m going to say.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? I’m a Rogue too.”

“The hell you are.”

I goggled at him. “What are you talking about? Of course I am. Me, Rafael, Cato, Wilder, Lucien—”

“They aren’t Rogues either,” he sliced in. “They’re the children of Rogues who were groomed to one day join. In the future. When they’re older. If I wouldn’t go after a teenager, why would I let them in my organization?”

“Fine. I’m not a Rogue, but I don’t see why you won’t tell me. You mentioned that anyone can be one—including a Royal.” I thought of Victor. “It’d be good for me to know who my secret allies are before I face Everleigh.”

“Sweetie, your eyes are open. Stop dreaming.”

It was everything in me not to throw my chocolate chip muffin at his head.

“You asked about my mother,” he continued, returning half his attention back to the laptop. “That I can answer. She’s the coldest, most unforgiving taskmaster that ever wielded a Mastercard. She stopped speaking to me the day I turned down the arranged marriage. Literally walked out of every room I entered. Once, I sliced my hand with a kitchen knife and she didn’t even look up from her paper.

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