Page 103 of The Prince of Power

Damian shoots me a sharp look. The hand placed possessively on my chair moves to the back of my neck.

I swallow. “I’m sorry.”

Lucas smiles. “Don’t apologize, Ava. We’re being rude talking politics at the dinner table.”

My God, he looks so much like Damian right now, even though Damian favors his beautiful mother with her bright-blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. But when Lucas smiles, he looks calculating and ruthless.

“Yes,” Damian says sharply. “You are.”

Lucas keeps his gaze fixed on me. “You have questions. I can see it. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

I look at Damian. His expression is hard, but he nods for me to continue.

I lick my lips. “So Robert Leland Vaughn…is not one of you.”

Gabriel and Lucas laugh, and I release the breath I was holding. So they don’t mind if I bring up the organization. They’ve made enough references to it throughout the night—like Damian told me they would—but I still wasn’t sure.

“Does that surprise you?” Gabriel asks.

I nod. “Damian hasn’t told me much about your…club.” Gabriel smiles, probably at my word choice. “But I guessed it would include all the richest people in the world.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Rich people can still be fools. My grandfather was an example of that.”

I nod. “The man who built Thornecroft.”

And also the man who Damian said was swindled of money from his mistress. Damian said he admires her.

These people are strange. They don’t seem to have loyalty to family. Lucas looks at and talks to Damian…like he’s a business associate rather than his own son.

“Yes.” Lucas takes a slow sip of his wine. “Imagine trying to prove your value in the world by building that gaudy mausoleum.”

Lucas’s and Gabriel’s laughter grates against my skin. It’s thick with arrogance, with certainty—like they’re untouchable, like the world belongs to them.

I set my glass down.

“Imagine trying to prove your value as a person by being part of an organization that does evil things.”

The laughter cuts off.

Damian shoots me a murderous look, but I can’t seem to quell my rage. I’m here now with the man who shaped Damian into the person he’s become.

Because even though Damian hasn’t blamed his father outright, I’ve pieced it together. Lucas Cross didn’t just raise him—he trained him. Groomed him to believe that power matters more than right and wrong. That there’s no way out once you’re in.

The air turns heavy, thick. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, but I don’t drop my gaze. “You have one life on this earth.” My voice is surprisingly steady. “It might feel good to be powerful, but does it feelthatgood?” I shake my head. “Most of the evil in the world comes from powerful men refusing to accept that they’re going to die.”

No one speaks.

Damian’s mother doesn’t look at me, but I see the way her fingers still against her glass.

Then Lucas smiles. It’s slow, predatory. He turns his gaze to Damian. “I see you haven’t broken her in. You’ll need to correct that before it becomes a problem.”

Damian stands up from the table, his gaze pinning me in place. He lifts his hand and flicks his fingers.

Looks like I’m in trouble.

32

Ava

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