Page 71 of The Spare (The King Dynasty #2)

Chapter forty-five

Consiglierie

M elody almost killed me on our five o'clock morning run this morning. On the fucking beach.

The soft sand tore my ass up.

I'm typically pretty in shape, but not right now.

Right now I think I'm going to die, and Luca's ridiculously fucking amused face makes me want to lunge across the table at him and fuck him up for looking so smug.

Except I can't, because Melody made it her personal mission to shred my quads for some reason.

She's embraced Cali life like a champ; her hair is lush, and her skin is glowing because she's always outside doing something, like picking fruit in her father's gardens or taking his two dogs for a run along the coast.

And the sex we've been having has been better than it was in New York, somehow.

Luca chuckles and twirls his pen, throwing it up in the air and catching it. "Oh, man. I feel so bad for you, actually."

My eyes snaps to his. "I couldn't imagine why," I say as sarcastically as possible.

"Because you look like dog shit." His eyes raking down my body judgmentally. "Seriously. What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"My daughter."

My head snaps to the side before I can answer, seeing all six-foot-two of Maximus striding through the door. If I didn't know his age, there's no way in hell I'd guess he's fifty-five.

"Uncle!" Luca drawls, chuckling. "Your daughter, eh? You mean my sweet, innocent cousin Melly?"

Though they're cousins, I narrow my eyes at his new nickname for her.

"Innocent? She might be sweet, but innocent she is not, and don't let her fool you," Maximus laughs, patting me heavily on the shoulder before lowering himself in the seat next to me.

"Hey, Max," I greet him, my hands going back to my thighs.

Luca gets up and then walks to the door to the right of us and slides the glass into the wall, opening the space up to the outside before taking out a tin of cigars. I reject it, pulling out my cigarettes, packing them quickly and lighting one even quicker.

Fuck, I might need two smokes.

Luca raises a brow, trading a look with Maximus before bringing his eyes back to mine, but I don't care. I suck in a deep drag and let out a long, low groan. "Fuuucck, that's good."

Luca snorts. "Anyway, I need to talk to you, Mason."

I take another drag, and flick the ash in the ashtray.

"Shoot." His entire demeanor changes, making my body tighten up as his face darkens and his posture goes ramrod straight.

It's such a difference from his attitude not even just three seconds ago that I pause bringing the cigarette to my lips and just stare. "What's wrong with your bipolar ass?"

Luca's mouth tightens, and even though the air suddenly becomes chilly, my aching thighs prevent me from taking this seriously. "My consigliere has betrayed me, leading me to need to replace him."

"Your concera whata?" My brow raises as I lower my hand and grip my thigh hard.

"Consigliere," Luca enunciates slowly, as if I'm stupid. Which is actually how I feel because nothing is sinking into my brain at the moment.

"It still doesn't quite ring the bell you think you're hitting, friend," I say wearily, rubbing my jaw with my hand.

"Besides, why's this any of my business?

" I fight to roll my eyes, and clear my throat instead, looking over at Maximus who's staring between me and Luca quietly.

"Max, every time your nephew calls me in here, it's for something that could have been an email. Did you know that?"

Maximus' lips twitch, and he brings up a hand to scrub along his jaw, trying yet failing to hold in his chuckle.

His eyes glint with amusement as he tosses a wry look at Luca who's resumed tossing that pen back up in the air.

I swear, this man can't take anything seriously. My thighs cramp, and I grimace.

"It's your business because you're replacing him."

My brow rises as I flick my eyes to his and then to Maximus who just threads his fingers together and sits calmly. "I'm what?"

"Replacing him. "

"I heard you, dumbass-"

"Then why did you ask-"

I hold up my hand, narrowing my eyes and blinking. "Luca, isn't the consigliere your third?"

He nods, getting an amused smile on his face. "Yes." His brows furrow as he tilts his head at me. "You do realize that you can only get away with calling me a dumbass because you're family, right?"

I roll my eyes. "What about my brother?"

He shrugs his shoulder. "That's above me, now." Meaning, in other words he couldn't give a fuck. It makes me smile. I love Hendrix and all, but he can eat grass.

Intrigued, I flick the ash before taking another drag, holding his stare the whole time. "How do you know I won't betray you?"

He chuckles, standing up swiftly from his chair and tugging the lapel of his blazer before rounding his desk. "Follow me," he says curtly.

As Maximus and I stand, I snatch up the ash tray, bringing it with me as we walk out of his office, winding through the halls of his home until we reach the stairs that lead to the basement.

Reaching another door, a guard opens it, and I look inside seeing stone instead of the sheetrock of the basement.

We descend those stairs, too, and the temperature plummets.

"Fuck," I complain. My thighs protest, and I grumble, taking another smoke and flicking the ash again before setting the little tray in a recessed hole in the wall of what looks to be a dungeon. This shouldn't shock me, but it does. I'll admit it.

The man has a real life dungeon with lanterns; seven stone rooms with iron bars and little prison toilets take up the dank space.

There are several men milling about down here.

The usual mafia type: tatted, wearing all black, stone-faced, huge, menacing guys who seem to be in love with the idea of silence because no one here hardly talks.

Joey stands next to one of the rooms, the iron bars are open, and the sound of flesh pummeling flesh and agonized groans of pain sound out.

I stand silently next to a stoic Maximus, minding my own business, watching while Luca shrugs out of his blazer, unbuttons his cuffs, and then pushes the sleeves of his white button down shirt up his arms. He holds out his hand, his thick forearms flex as he crooks his fingers, and a guard steps forward and places a glock in it.

He checks it, racking the chamber, and waves me closer.

I frown, stepping forward and looking into the cell where his current consigliere sits in a wooden chair, face completely rearranged to the point I could only tell it was him based off his tattoos on his chest. With no last words, or any warning whatsoever, Luca points the gun at his head and shoots him point blank. No questions asked.

I take a drag of my cigarette, then flick it to the floor, crushing it with my foot. Point taken. "Hm."

That's interesting.

His head turns and he meets my eye. "You going to betray me?"

I frown. "Nope. Wouldn't even think about it, brother."

He smiles. "Good. You start now."

He must see the look in my eyes because he gets an amused look on his face and turns, putting his arm around my shoulder and steers me back the way we came.

"Well, maybe we can start after you fucking fix whatever my cousin did to your leg, eh?

" He chuckles as we walk and then side-eyes me.

"You know you're family now, right? That wasn't a joke. You're one of us."

I bite back a smile and scoff a chuckle. "Yeah, I feel that."

And for the first time, I really do.