Page 94 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

I’m starting to see the grittiness, the flaws in the system. Renato tells us to set an end goal—who do we want to see dead most of all?

For David, that is his father.

For me—Richard Cambell.

And as I rise through the ranks, becoming more handy with a knife, I come closer to seeking my revenge.

But what happens when Richard is dead? When I no longer have a goal? Who do I become then?

Ben is right. We’re stuck in the hamster wheel, and this misery never ends. We all signed an oath to Renato, and his death is the only thing that can break it.

“Let’s head back. It’s late.”

“Fucking boring,” yawns David, snapping his fingers at the dead man. “Someone clean this piece of shit off the floor. His family home is a few minutes away.”

I rake my hair away from my face, studying David’s determined face. He has never believed in family. The Crows is all he has.

Ben flashes me a look, subtly shaking his head at me as two of the other boys deal with the mess on the floor, which is not a fucking pretty sight.

I avert my gaze, seeing David already making tracks.

“His daughter is twelve.”

“I don’t care if she’s straight out the womb. This bastard almost fucked everything up for us.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” snaps David, angling his knife my way.

I grind my jaw, halting down the alleyway.

David can do what he wants. I’m sure karma will be back to eat us one day.

I slam the car door shut when we arrive at our destination. I’ve seen graveyards with more character.

“Are you sure this is it?”

“Positive,” I say to Robert as he steps out of the car, the team of enforcers following.

They pop open the trunk, inviting me to grab weapons.

“I have everything I need, gents,” I say, gesturing to my fist.

Robert rolls his eyes. “Cockiness kills faster than bullets.”

I lift my shirt, showing him my knife. “I’ll leave this under my belt just in case. But trust me, fists are a lot more personal than knives.”

“I’ll remember that in the future when you’re dead.”

“The only person dying tonight is David Hale.”

The car beeps as I lock it up. I shove the fob into my pocket, rolling up my sleeves. This night should be eventful.

I gesture behind me, signaling for Robert and the four men to follow. We step onto the train platform, silence ringing through the atmosphere. This place is ancient. There is no departure board, no active trains running on this line as far as I’m aware.

The crow pecking around on the railway tells me we’re in the right place.

“The only place you’re catching a train to around here is your death,” says one of the assassins, his shoes scraping against the concrete as we walk down the platform.