“Spasibo.” Alexander says.
“De nada,” I hum, smirking.
No, seriously. It’s literally nothing. I’m not doing anything.
“Get him wintergreen lifesavers. They were his favorite growing up.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, sending a petulant text to Kent about the goddamn mints. “Is there anything else I can get for your precious heir??”
“My son is strong. He can take care of himself, I know that. Just… whatever you can do.”
“Consider it done.”By someone else.
“Oh, and Ivory…?”
“What now?”
“Did Dascha… really kill that girl? Russo’s niece?”
I recall the file I received from my connections in Brooklyn. The body cam footage that Police Commissioner Levy ordered the officers to wipe.
“It would appear so.”
Sitting here like this, I do feel very much like the dark king I’ve made myself out to be.
In this large chair made of rich leather, worn over time, giving it that feel of weathered flesh. Fireplace flickering, making the normally still shadows dance.
The only thing missing… a pet at my feet.
I can hear the sounds of the party winding down upstairs. This place is big enough that you wouldn’t necessarily hear the raging parties that happen upstairs in the guards’ quarters all the way over here on my side… Unless you were listening.
Ten years ago, this home was much quieter. Ihatedit.
Quiet means things are happening that you aren’t privy to.Quiet means secrets.
Over time, it’s gotten progressively louder, the noises becoming more vulgar and vociferous.
It’s what is necessary, to keep them in line. Keep them hungry, while being their only source of food. Give them just enough to maintain their subdued subservience, always anxiously awaiting dinner scraps.
Understand the control in giving them what theythinkthey want.
Tonight, I’m antsy.Buzzing. In need of vices myself, though nothing I have here and now is quite…enough.
I, too, amstarved, and nothing ever seems to assuage this raging appetite.
Picking up my phone from the end table, I place a quick call.
“Sir?”
“Where is Officer Chevelle right now?” I ask Kent, foot wiggling rapidly, where my ankle is crossed over my knee.
“In his bedroom, with Soren,” he answers without hesitation.
Hmm… That could be something.
“As soon as he’s done, bring the Sinner to me,” I demand.
“Yes, sir.”
