King of Envy: Chapter 43

Emmanuelle had some fucking balls.

It was Saturday, the afternoon after Maya’s party, and I was still seething at the agency head’s audacity to not only drop Ayana with no warning, but to do so in the middle of one of the biggest social events of the season.

It didn’t matter that Ayana was planning to leave Beaumont anyway. It was the principle of the matter.

Once I was through with Emmanuelle, she’d be lucky to have a business card left, much less a thriving agency.

I hadn’t thought she was bold or stupid enough to go up against me—and she had to know that by targeting Ayana, she was also targeting me—but she’d been clever in the way she framed her accusations. I’d give her that. By accusing me of “intimidating” Hank on Ayana’s behalf, she’d essentially tied my hands. I couldn’t do anything outside the legal scope of things without bolstering her claims.

It took everything in me not to find Hank and deal with him personally, but that would be playing right into their hands, so I let Sloane and my lawyers handle the situation. For now.

Meanwhile, I had another problem to deal with.

“You told me you could handle the other faction once Shepherd was out of the picture.” I leveled a cold stare at the man across the table. “Now you’re asking for my help again?”

“I said I might be able to handle them,” Roman corrected. “They’ve proved more resilient than I gave them credit for. Plus, Shepherd’s death has had…ripple effects. It’s complicated.”

We were meeting in the Brooklyn warehouse again. I wasn’t concerned about Roman knowing the location since I didn’t have anything of value here; it was merely a private place to handle unofficial business.

But Roman refused to tell me who the other faction leader was, claiming he didn’t want to give up all his bargaining chips until he got what he wanted, and I was tired of his vague explanations.

I’d killed Shepherd and held up my end of the deal. Now he wanted me to provide manpower and resources to take out this other faction leader as well?

“You know,” I said softly. Lethally. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were giving me the runaround.”

“Think what you like, but you won’t find peace until I’m in control of the Brotherhood, and I can’t get control until the other faction leader is dead. Plus, I have to deal with…other issues outside the organization.” Roman’s jaw flexed. Judging by his haunted expression, I assumed he meant the “they” he’d referred to in the note he left for me a lifetime ago. He said it was someone he’d crossed paths with while he’d been hiding from the Brothers.

I didn’t care. His past wasn’t my concern; his ability to restrain the Brotherhood was.

“The other faction has gone underground since Shepherd’s death, but they’re still gunning for you,” Roman said. “They haven’t made a move yet because they’re waiting for the wedding fallout to subside. But unless you want to drag this fight out for weeks or even months, I suggest we lure them out so we can take them on our terms.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“By using bait.”

Silence descended. What did we have that…

No. I tensed. Surely Roman wasn’t idiotic enough to suggest what I thought he was suggesting.

His next words proved that he was, in fact, that idiotic. “We can’t use you since they’re not dumb. They won’t go after you directly without careful thought, and we don’t want them to be careful. We want them to be reckless. Now, the people close to you…that’s another matter.” He rapped his knuckles on the table. “Your relationship with Ayana is basically public knowledge now. They know you care about her, and she’s a model. They won’t think for a second that she can⁠—”

The click of a gun stopped him short.

In the heartbeat between him uttering her name and now, I’d surged to my feet and leaned across the table.

I pressed the butt of my Glock under his chin, forcing his eyes up to meet mine. “If you go near Ayana or involve her in this in any way,” I said, my voice so cold and quiet the air steamed with small white puffs, “I will make you wish I’d blown your head off.”

What I’d done to Dexter wouldn’t compare to what I’d do to anyone who knowingly put Ayana in harm’s way.

Roman’s eyes sparked with defiance. “This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he said with a sneer. “The sentimentality. The emotional reactions. They’re going to get you and, worse, me killed. She’s fucking with your judgment, Markovic. Threaten me if you want, but my plan is a logical one, and you know it.”

My teeth ground together.

My feelings for Ayana did cloud my judgment. Even when I’d been planning my attack against Shepherd, I was thinking about how I just wanted to get it over with so I could spend more time with her.

But I didn’t care that Ayana was a distraction. She was my distraction, the only one I wanted. Roman could talk shit all he wanted; I drew the line at using her as bait. There was no world in which I’d ask her to put herself at risk for me.

“If you don’t want to involve her, fine. But think about it,” Roman drawled, unfazed by the gun aimed at him. “Are you willing to give up your life for a relationship that won’t last? And don’t kid yourself because it won’t last. Not when Ayana finds out who you really are.”

My grip strangled the gun. “She knows.”

“Does she?” His tone turned mocking. “Does she know what you did to Dexter? What you did to the Brotherhood’s leaders all those years ago? I’m talking gory details, Markovic. Maybe she’s aware that you were part of the organization and that you’ve done illegal things in the past or even the present, but is she fully cognizant of what you’re capable of? Because there’s a long leap between ‘illegal’ and cutting a guy to pieces, even if he deserved it. Most people would find the latter…unconscionable.”

My stomach congealed. All the blood in my body seemed to be sloshing in my ears, the liquid ripples a nauseating background for the brutal truth behind Roman’s words. He’d ripped my worst fears out from the recesses of my mind and turned intangible nightmares into concrete words.

Would Ayana stay with me if she discovered what I was truly capable of? The whisper of cold against my neck teased at the answer.

I never wanted to find out.

“Like I said.” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, heedless of my threats. “Think about it.”

He walked away, leaving me alone in the silence.