Page 95 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

The abandoned station building up ahead catches my attention. This place would be too small to house the Crows. If David has come out here to train them, he can’t have many inside.

I stare at the building, trembling as I remember the young boy shooting himself in the head. The ghost sound of the gunshot reverberates through me like I’m standing in the janitor closet, watching it happen all over again.

Death is the only way out, and we were lucky to escape for a while, but karma has come knocking on our doors. I must face the music and do what needs to be done.

To rescue these broken boys, to save Ophelia, I’ll give my life in a heartbeat.

I glance over my shoulder, nodding at my men as we gather around the station building. After silently counting to three, we burst through the door, and my heart immediately falters in my chest.

I expected a dozen Crows at most, but there are roughly thirty in here, lined up in rows, weapons at the ready.

Feeling a pair of eyes on me, I turn to the side.

I see Ophelia watching me and burst into flames. Her brows are parted in pain as she shakes her head, begging me to stop. She struggles against the duct tape, her mouth completely covered. Tears fall from her eyes, and she can’t even wipe them away, her arms and legs strapped to the chair.

“You know what to do,” enters David, taking measured steps across the room.

“Ah, I see you came looking your best.” I grimace at his choice in clothes. “You could have chosen a better shirt to die in. Blue satin washes you out.”

“You would be a fool to kill me and my Crows. Once upon a time, you were just as helpless.”

“So were you.”

“No,” barks David. “I was not. You boys were slacking, and Renato had terrible leadership skills.”

“Can’t be much better than yours.”

“Renato knew how to sell the dream, but he failed to create a legacy. You know why?”

“Shove your questions up your ass. We don’t have time for this.”

“He didn’t know how to lead, how to build an indestructible empire, but you, Salvatore…” David steps closer, pointing at me. “You created his dream.”

“Lucky me.”

“Indeed.” A smirk stretches across David’s face, sinking naturally into his features.

He acts every time he walks onto stage, flashing fake smiles at the cameras, fooling the entire world.

I thought I knew his true colors. Underneath the glitz and glamor was a broken boy using wealth as a band aid to hide the past.

But as I stand here, seeing him lead an army of second-generation Crows, I realize he fooled me too.

I latched onto him, thinking we were in a similar position, and I found comfort in that. He came onto the TV screen with his bullshit campaigns, and suddenly I felt less alone. He went through the same experiences as me.

And maybe we didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but we were in the same boat. We survived the Crows and established our own careers.

He was the only other person in New York who knew how it felt to go from nothing to everything.

We had a silent understanding.

At least I fucking thought.

This feels like a punch to the gut…

And then I see Ophelia watching me from across the room, her eyes sparkling at even the darkest of times, letting me know that I don’t have to do this alone.

One look into her eyes and I know what I have to do.