Page 82 of King of Envy

I agree. No proxy.A proxy could be traced back to us. If they were caught, the Brothers would torture them for information, and it didn’t matter how tough the subject was. Everybody broke, sooner or later.

I’ll take care of that situation going forward. Wait here until I’m finished.

I’d told Sean andonlySean about Roman’s visit. He’d been appalled and outraged that someone had successfully broken into my house. It’d taken him less than an hour to find and patch the security breach. Roman had snuck in as a member of our bi-weekly gardening service, and the guard in charge of screening all visitors had slacked on the job. He’d been fired immediately and replaced with someone more senior.

It was a stupid mistake we couldn’t afford to make with the Brotherhood back in the mix.

Sean also hadn’t been thrilled to hear about Roman’s proposition. However, he knew my relationship with the Brothers was complicated, and he’d refrained from passing judgment beyond several warnings not to trust Roman.

“Understood,” he said. “I’ll keep a lookout.”

I twisted the handle and entered the storage room.

I’d bought the warehouse years ago using a shell company. Its ownership was buried under so many layers of paperwork it would take an entire team of top-notch forensic accountants years to trace it back to me.

I’d left most of the warehouse as it was, but I’d soundproofed certain rooms, including the storage space. It was impossible for people inside to hear what was happening outside and vice versa.

Acquiring and retrofitting the warehouse without tipping anyone off about its true ownership had been a pain in the ass, but it was worth it.

The warehouse was for special cases. I didn’t visit it often, but it had its uses.

The man inside straightened when he heard me enter. He was tied to a chair with a blindfold on.

I walked over and calmly removed the piece of cloth with a gloved hand.

Wentworth Holt stared up at me, his face pale. A flicker of recognition passed through his eyes.

“What is this?” His voice shook. “What’s happening? You need to help me! You need…” He trailed off when I retrieved a piece of paper from my pocket and placed it neatly in his lap.

It was a printout of his schedule last Friday with the Sage Studios photoshoot circled in red.

Wentworth was a predator, but he wasn’t stupid. It took less than a minute for the puzzle pieces to click.

“Is this about Ayana?” He let out a nervous laugh. “Listen, man, I don’t know what she told you, butshecame ontome. She was practically begging me to?—”

His words cut off with a howl when I slammed my fist into his face. I was pleased to note his nose hadn’t fully healed from Ayana’s headbutt, and it easily broke again from my punch.

The pain must’ve been excruciating.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Wentworth shouted. Blood and tears poured down his face. “It was just a stupid kiss. You can’t…you’re a businessman, right? I recognize you from the papers. You can’t do this. It’s…I…this is kidnapping!”

One, I hated people telling me what I could and couldn’t do.

Two…

I typed out a reply on my phone.It’s only kidnapping if you’re not dead.

The second my implied threat sank in, Wentworth’s eyes rolled so far back in his head that I could see only the whites, and he fainted dead away.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I stared down at his limp form. My lip curled with disgust.

What was it with these men in fashion? First Hank, now Wentworth. They loved terrorizing other people, but they couldn’t handle a fraction of what they dished out.

They thought Ayana was weak, but she was a thousand times stronger than they were.

I checked my watch. I had a tuxedo fitting and a meeting with Singapore in two hours.

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