Page 28 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

KELLAN

A s I plow through a pile of paperwork, my cell phone buzzes, cutting through the quiet hum in my office. I glance at the caller ID on the screen, irritation brewing when I see who it is.

“This had better be important, Brody,” I growl. Things with the casino deal are going sideways and I can’t afford any distractions right now.

“Kellan, it’s bad. The cops just raided The Emerald Lounge,” he says, his voice shaky.

My jaw tightens and the pen in my hand snaps under the pressure of my grip. “What?”

“They got Fiona Grace,” he explains. “They took her book, they arrested a bunch of people, and they’re shutting the Emerald Lounge down.”

The Emerald Lounge is the nickname of the basement of the Twin Shores Hotel, one of our legitimate businesses, where we run some of our illegal operations, like the poker games in the basement. Fiona Grace is the woman who runs our games, the face of the Emerald Lounge.

I’m already on my feet, grabbing for my coat. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t say a word to anyone until I get there.”

Shoving the phone in my pocket, I stalk out of the office, the weight of this new problem sitting heavily on my shoulders. Another fucking raid. First, the warehouse, and now this? Someone’s playing a dangerous game here.

By the time I arrive at the hotel, the scene is chaos. Uniformed officers are everywhere, hauling out machines and counting wads of confiscated cash in full view of the guests. Brody is pacing near the entrance, wringing his hands.

“Kellan,” he says, his voice shaky, “I didn’t know what else to do?—”

“Shut it,” I snap, brushing past him and heading straight for the officer in charge. He’s a smug-looking man with slicked back black hair and a walrus mustache.

“Lieutenant,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I’d like to know what the hell is going on here.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his smirk. “We got a tip about illegal gambling. Turns out, the rumors were true.”

“This is a legitimate business,” I say coldly. “Whatever you think you’ve found, you’re mistaken.”

“Legitimate?” He chuckles, folding his arms across his chest. “Cut the act, Brannagan. We’ve been building this case for months. We’ve got more than enough to take down your operation. Might even put you away while we’re at it.”

The way he says it—with such smug satisfaction—makes my blood boil. I can picture the ways I could make him regret those words. A single order and his family would live to regret crossing mine.

But I rein it in. Barely.

“Be careful with your accusations,” I say, my voice dropping dangerously low. “You’re overstepping.”

“Am I?” He leans closer, a taunting smile curling his lips. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, Brannagan. Because when we’re done, there won’t be a single one of you left to run this town.”

It takes every ounce of control I have to keep from snapping. Instead, I take a step back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You’ve made your point, Lieutenant. Let’s hope you don’t come to regret it.”

Just then, another officer approaches the lieutenant and whispers something in his ear. I’m about to leave when he turns to me. “I think you’d better come with us, Brannagan,” he says, looking far too smug for someone whose life I could end in a heartbeat if I so chose.

“Am I under arrest?” I ask, my tone icy despite the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s right,” the lieutenant replies, his smirk widening. “Suspicion of illegal gambling operations. You know, the kind that runs out of places like, oh, say… Brannagan-owned hotels?”

The officer behind him steps forward, cuffs at the ready.

“Careful,” I warn, my eyes narrowing. “You don’t want to make this worse for yourself.”

The lieutenant chuckles darkly. “I think we’ll take our chances.”

The cuffs click around my wrists, and I allow them to lead me to the squad car, keeping my steps steady and my expression blank. Losing my cool now won’t help, and besides, I know exactly who to call.

By the time I’m seated in the booking room, Ronan Calhoun is already on his way. The officers keep their distance, but I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for me to crack. They’ll be waiting forever.

The door swings open less than thirty minutes later, and Ronan strides in, his presence like a gale-force wind. His tailored suit, silver tie pin, and no-nonsense expression turn heads immediately. The man is a shark, and the look he’s giving tells me he smells chum in the water.

“Gentlemen,” he begins, his tone dripping with mock civility, “I understand there’s been some sort of misunderstanding regarding my client.”

The lieutenant steps forward, his bravado faltering slightly under Ronan’s sharp gaze. “This isn’t a misunderstanding. Kellan Brannagan?—”

“Save it,” Ronan interrupts, holding up a hand. “If you had anything concrete, he wouldn’t still be sitting here without formal charges. This is nothing more than an unlawful detention. Release him now, or I’ll bury you in so many lawsuits, your precinct will be working out of a tent.”

The lieutenant’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Ronan takes a slow step closer, his voice dropping.

“And just a suggestion… perhaps don’t test the patience of a man with my resources. Now, unlock the cuffs.”

With a sharp nod from the lieutenant, an officer steps forward and removes the cuffs from my wrists. I stand, rolling my shoulders, and offer a tight smile.

“Thanks for the hospitality,” I say, my voice cold.

Ronan doesn’t break stride as we leave the station, his phone already in hand. “I’ll follow up on this,” he says briskly. “We’ll deal with the aftermath later. For now, keep a low profile.”

“Sure thing,” I reply, though we both know that’s the last thing on my mind. I’m going to make every single person involved in this situation regret the fact that they woke up this morning and chose to come after the Brannagan Family.

As soon as I reach the office, I storm directly into Rory’s office without warning, slamming the door behind me. He looks up from his laptop, startled.

“What’s the matter now?” he asks, a frown on his face.

“They arrested me,” I inform him, fire burning in my gut. “They got to Fiona Grace, took her black book of clients, arrested several of the Twin Shores hotel employees, then came after me.”

Rory leans back in his chair, whistling low. “Fuck. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

I nod, crossing my arms as I sink into the leather chair facing him. “It’s the Russians. They’re onto us. This is a distraction, I’m sure of it.”

Rory scrubs a hand over his face. “What’s our move, then?”

“We hit Anatoly. Hard and fast.”

A spark of interest flashes in Rory’s eyes. “You sure about that? It’s not like we can half-ass it.”

“I’m sure,” I say firmly. “We’ve waited long enough. He’s getting bolder, and if we don’t take him down now, he’ll bleed us dry.”

Rory nods, leaning forward. “Targets?”

“His clubs,” I say without hesitation. “Take out his income streams. And his political contacts. Leak what we can or bribe who we need to. We make him untouchable in the worst way.”

“And his lieutenants?”

“We flip the ones we can.” I shrug. “Eliminate the rest.”

Rory nods, already pulling out files and notes. “This is going to take everything we’ve got.”

I nod. “Anatoly’s reign ends now.”

Rory places a stack of files on the desk between us, smacking it with his hand. “If we’re hitting his political contacts, we need precision,” he says, opening the folder on top.

I lean over, scanning the contents. Names, addresses, dates… it’s all evidence Anatoly’s high-ranking allies never wanted to see the light of day. Rory's thorough, as usual.

“These are the officials we know frequent the Delphine Club,” he continues, referring to one of Anatoly’s most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs. “Councilmen, judges, even a couple of senators. They’re not just customers. They’re in his pocket.”

I knew my brother was smart, but this is proof of why, even though he’s second-born, he’s the leader.

“Perfect,” I mutter. “We leak this. Not all the names, just a few, enough to make a stir. Make it clear that Anatoly can’t protect them anymore.”

Rory smirks. “You want the press to eat it up?”

“That’s the point,” I reply. “We feed the reporters just enough to make it look like they’ve uncovered something big. Anatoly’s image takes a hit, and his allies start scrambling to save their own necks.”

Rory nods, tapping the desk thoughtfully. “Who do we leak to? We need someone hungry enough to run with it but not so reckless that they blow our cover.”

“How about Lorelai Hunter?” I ask without hesitation.

“You know she’s been itching for an in with us.

She’s going to get all she wants and more with this lead.

I bet she’ll be looking to keep her best informants happy once we hand this over to her.

We’ll turn this into a scandal Anatoly can’t clean up. ”

Rory grins. “Good call.”

I sit back, the weight of the plan settling into place. “I’ll arrange to meet with her somewhere discrete and out of the way. If I turn over a select few items, just some photos, transaction records, and a few names, she’ll start digging deeper. It’ll be easy to get her on our side after this.”

Rory hesitates. “And when Anatoly retaliates?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“He’ll be too busy dealing with the fallout,” I tell him. “His allies will start pulling away, and his men will see the cracks in his armor. It’ll destabilize him. That’s when we strike.”

Rory leans forward, his expression serious. “We need to be careful, Kellan. This is high stakes. If we slip up, we’re done for.”

“We won’t. Anatoly’s been a thorn in our side for too long. It’s time to show him what happens when you come after the Brannagans.”

Rory nods, reaching for his laptop. “I’ll start assembling the package. Photos, documents, everything we’ve got on these officials.”

“And I’ll make sure Hunter gets it,” I add. “Once it’s out there, there’s no taking it back. This will be the first domino.”

Rory smirks, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “Then let’s make sure it falls hard.”

Once it’s done, the fallout is immediate.

By that evening, every major news outlet has picked up the story.

Grainy photos of high-ranking officials entering and leaving the Delphine Club dominate the headlines, alongside accusations of bribery, racketeering, and ties to organized crime.

Anatoly’s name is brought up, woven into the narrative just enough to implicate him without stating it outright.

The next day, I step into the office, the chaos hitting immediately. Phones are ringing off the hook and my cell hasn’t stopped buzzing since six that morning.

“It’s everywhere,” Rory says, standing in the doorway of his office with a cup of coffee in hand, a smug grin on his face. “Everyone is talking about it.”

“Good,” I say, heading for my own office, almost running into Clary, who is busy trying to manage the office phones that are ringing nonstop. Everyone from the press to people from Anatoly’s team are trying to call right now, wanting statements, wanting to make threats, but we’re ignoring it.

I know that the fallout from this is imminent, but for the moment, there’s a sense of satisfaction from hitting Volkov where it hurts. He’s taken too much from us already. I refuse to let him take another thing.

If it’s a war he wants, it’s a war he’ll get.