Page 39 of Promise of Punishment

“Sorry about that.” I am. For how big he is, I thought he’d be a worthy opponent. Not that he wasn’t, he just wasn’t a match for me. A bit slow, even though he’s shorter, which isn’t usually the case.

“It’s all good.” He rubs his short-cropped black hair. “But if you want to fight, I met a guy last night who says he has an in with a promoter running a new underground circuit. Just say the word.” He points at me as he walks backward to the sauna.

“Get me a name, if you can.” I go back to pummeling the bag. Any new fight scene needs to be checked out first. I don’t want to get busted in the US for doing anything illegal. Lachlan and I need to maintain a clean image here. He hasn’t stepped foot in a ring since Emery. The dynamic changed greatly between us when she came into the picture. I hated her for it at first and hated the change more. He’s so damn happy now though. I can’t imagine him without her. She’s good for him. With Tessa dating a co-worker at the distillery and thriving without me, I feel a bit useless—and with no one to look after. I don’t know if Fable deserves my care after what she did, but I sure as hell want to give it to her. I want to give her my cock several different ways too. That will take time. I don’t only want her to consent because these are the rules here. I want it because I want to know she trusts me enough to give me what she cherishes most. Her body. Women who have been hurt or abused covet that the most. Even if they give it freely, it’s on their terms. If you take it from them, they will never trust you with anything. I should punish her for selling me out. My dad tracked me for years, trying to sabotage several business ventures when I got started. It made it that much harder to get ahead and succeed. He even ruined a few opportunities for me—something that wouldn’t have happened had he thought I was dead.

Lachlan suffered too. As my best friend for years, it wasn’t hard for my dad to figure out he was involved in my escape. We had to fight and work harder than we should have. Despite him, we still made it, even if part of that success had to happen in America.

My phone dings in my pocket. I pull it from my joggers and read the text.

Felix: I got more info on Fable. I’ll email it to you.

My pulse jumps with the need to read what he sent, but I won’t do that here. Any of the Lords could come in and get nosey. Everything about Fable is private for me only. She was in my life long before any of these men. She’s seen me at my absolute worst. Sod it! Why can’t I hate her?

I punch the bag one last time and head upstairs to my room to shower. The demon in me has a new craving—Fable. Oddly enough, learning about her pacifies it.

I settle into the chair by the window, warmed by the late morning sunlight, and read the email, shocked by its contents.

Fable and her mother arrived back in America a month after Fable saved me. Son of a bitch. William was lying from the beginning. My jaw clamps. There are no legal trails leading to their whereabouts, meaning they lived and worked under the radar. In hiding. From her father, I can only assume. This is on me for not killing the fucker.

My hand balls into a tight fist as I continue reading.

Kip Farrington was released from jail after serving a year. He returned to his home in Martha’s Vineyard and to his old ways, partying and public intoxication at times. He harassed a housekeeper in the area named Amara Thomas, who lives in Martha’s Vineyard.

There’s information on her too. She worked with Lola at one time and for my family’s summer home. She also has a daughter. Noah Thomas. We have a Noah here.

I only know the housekeepers by their name tags when they wear them, but I know of Noah from Brooks, who hooked up with her once and said if she weren’t staff, he’d bed her again. Quite the compliment from a man who favors petite women. He’s smart to keep his distance. Seconds with staff gets too complicated. I was screwing Camila before hiring her, so we’re different.

My plan was to stay for one night this weekend, fuck Camila until I was satiated, then leave. Fable being here has my past and present colliding in ways I can’t ignore. I want answers, and I don’t want to leave her until I get them. More than that, I want to kiss her again, every inch of her tiny body, which is exactly why I should leave now.

The last part of the report steals my breath.

Lola was found by her daughter after she’d been beaten, strangled, and burned to death. Kip thought he could hide the evidence of his estranged wife’s body. Smoke in her lungs shows she wasn’t dead when he set her on fire.

My stomach rolls, but the sensation is quickly eclipsed by rage. No wonder Fable hates me. I promised her I’d kill her dad, and this atrocity happened.

I shoot to my feet and read the rest, pacing and ready to kill everyone.

My father never deposited money into their account, nor did his staff receive any notice that they’d be hosting Lola or Fable anywhere in Europe.

Felix is looking into Amara more and trying to figure out if my father set up Fable and her mum somewhere else in America. He’s also still digging up anything he can on William and what he knew, but after learning William died under shady circumstances, it’s a lot harder.

I can infer enough. My father fucked us all, and somehow William was a part of it.

William’s reasons don’t matter, although I’d bet it came down to money. My father did it to hurt me and anyone who helped me. The man was diabolical. I need answers from Fable. I can’t get them from her as one of the Lords if I want to bed her. I need to talk to Noah and find out what she knows. I would have Camila handle this, but I don’t want her to know anything about Fable. She’s already bothered that I went after Fable and spent an hour with her. She’s more than irritated that we didn’t fuck like we usually do, either. I visited her after Fable, desperate to douse the fire Fable lit within me, but Camila felt wrong after touching my little angel.

I groan and stab my fingers through my hair. Everything feels wrong now because of her. She’s all I can think about, dream about, obsess about. On Monday, I fly to London, but I doubt it will be far enough to get her out of my mind.

17

THE SERPENT MASK

Fable

The ballroom is just as crowded as last night. The menu and drinks have changed, as well as the guests’ outfits. Some of the masks are different, but many are the same. The red velvet jackets of the Lords stand out against the sea of white and black. Fresh flowers spill from the large stone pedestal vases at the four corners of the dance floor. The ivy above the bar now has white wisteria dangling from it like a dream. Fog blankets half of the massive room, and a hypnotic rhythm has couples dancing sensually together.

The vibe is steamier tonight and less like a club. The way certain guests make out as they dance has me turned on and longing for the Lord with the wolf mask to summon me to my room. I’m not sure how this works. Noah slept with the Lord in a guest room. Apparently, they don’t take anyone to their private suites. It’d be too easy to figure out who they are.

I have three flutes left on my tray and enter the Crimson Chamber. The room is a bit claustrophobic for me with all the red and velvet as if you’re trapped in a massive drop of blood. Two Lords are in the room, lounging on the plush circular seating with three women. The wolf-masked Lord sits to the right, with two women on either side. Nefertiti is one of them.