Page 55 of King of Deception

“I’ve gotten very close to Luke Kincaid. He has been… concerned by your sudden entrance into his beloved sister’s life. He’s on his way now.” I’ve begun playing with my food.

“I…” Preston starts edging for the door, sensing the danger. “It’s not like that. A man has to keep his woman in line?—”

I’m around the island with my hand at his throat before he’s made it two steps. “Did you think you’d get away with this? That you could touch her and not pay?”

I push him toward the open-concept family room, as he stumbles and falls, crashing into the coffee table, which cracks into a hundred pieces when his weight lands on it.

“Shit man, I don’t know why you care.” He rolls on his side, trying to get up but he’s slow. Far slower than me.

It’s not fair. He probably gets all his exercise on his daddy’s yacht. But me? I like scrapping. I’ve done it all. Wrestling, fencing, boxing, kickboxing. Helps release the aggression.

And I’m on him again, before he can even make it into a crouch. I pin him down, how I’m guessing he pinned Arabella. I want him to taste it. The fear.

I don’t give him an explanation, instead I crack him a good one in the jaw, but I do grit out between clenched teeth, “You’re going to suffer. I’m going to make you hurt like you’ve never hurt before.”

He tries to fight but I outweigh him, out muscle him, outfight him, and I easily subdue him again. “But before I hurt you, I’m going to let Luke have a go at you.” And then I ease back, with another smile that should frighten the shit out of him.

“What the fuck man?” He says, flexing his jaw. “What’s she to you?”

I don’t need to tell him shit.

But I look back to find Arabella standing there with wide eyes, ice in both hands, which have dropped to her sides. “Put the ice back on your bruises, luv,” I calmly tell her. “And then come sit on the couch. You must be exhausted.”

A knock sounds on the door. My brow furrows. That was quick.

“Delivery,” a voice calls through the open crack in the door I never closed.

“Leave it in the hall,” Arabella rasps, a few tears leaking down her cheeks, and then she does as I asked and comes to curl up on the couch.

She folds herself into the tiniest ball that both makes me ache and pisses me off even more.

Preston starts to struggle again, but I subdue him with a hand at his throat. “Hold still, you motherfucker.”

He does, his eyes wide with fear because he knows what’s coming. Finally, some sense from this fucking guy.

We don’t have to wait long before the door swings open. “Why is there sushi on the floor in the hall?” Luke asks. I hear the crinkle of the bag as he picks it up.

And then I hear it hit the kitchen floor. “What the actual fuck?”

“What’s wrong?” Another male voice asks. Mason. Fuck. The whole charade is blowing open now.

I knew this could happen. I can only hope he doesn’t take up the fight with me so that I can’t give Preston what he so richly deserves.

Triston is going to kill me if Mason doesn’t do it first.

“Mason?” Arabella looks up, more tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I turn to see Mason’s hands ball into fists. Who is he going to hit?

But before I find out, Preston clocks me with a decent blow across my cheekbone.

Didn’t think he had it in him, and I might respect him slightly more, but it only gives me permission to bring my fist down, right between his eyes.

He’s out in an instant.

I stand up and move to Arabella. I don’t care if Mason is watching, the secret is out now, so, scooping her up in my arms, I sit back down with her curled on my lap.

She burrows into me again, curling so small with her legs drawn up to her chest, that I can fit my arms completely around her.

---