Sebastian
Give him the fucking confirmation, Wick.
Carson
Mmm, yeah, pull his trigger, bb
Sebastian
DUDE
Me
Both of you fucking STOP. Seb, can you confirm Beaumont is at home?
Sebastian
He’s home. I’m watching him get his dick sucked by his mistress.
Carson
You kinky motherfucker.
Sebastian
She looks kinda familiar…shit, King. I think it’s your mom.
Carson
I will flay your skin with a salted knife while you sleep, cocksucker.
Sebastian
Speaking of sucking cock, what’s your mom charging these days?
Carson
That's it, motherfucker. You’re done.
Sebastian
Funny, I think your mom’s almost done, too. Wick, CONFIRMATION. NOW.
I look up from the phone, gazing across the dimly lit living area to Evelina, asleep on the couch.
Rage coils inside me as I replay seeing that motherfucker crouched over her in the trees, pushing her shirt up and putting his fucking hands on her.
There’s a reason Sebastian and few of his guys are lurking outside Jameson Beaumont’s beachfront mansion on Long Island right now. That reason is curled up on my couch with a blanket over her, looking so sweet and innocent. Sogood.
Somine.
When someone fucks with something that’s mine, they die. I just need confirmation of one thing first.
Jameson Beaumont is already on my shit-list, given that he was a close ally of my predecessor Étienne and is one of the assholes fomenting rebellion within the Syndicate ranks.
As the Marquis, I’m king and commander. But the infuriating thing is, I still can’t just kick in Beaumont’s front door in without knowing with utter certainty that he was behind tonight's attack on Evelina.
Any historian will tell you that the line between “tough commander” and “mad king” is a matter of perception. If Jameson Beaumontismouthing off about me being in charge, sticking a gun between his yapping lips and pulling the trigger without proof he was behind the attack is a great way for me to lose even more control of this organization.
