Page 96 of Claimed By the Ruthless King
“Renato was weak. He died and the organization crumbled to pieces. But not us.” David steps closer, watching me carefully. “I became a media sensation, but you created something timeless that could outlive us all.”
I grind my jaw, fragments of the past coming back to haunt me. “Your orphan campaign was never about saving the fucking youth.”
“Yes, it was,” says David. “I have saved over forty lost boys, and I will save more. You know how it feels to be pushed aside, left to rot on the side of the road. I’m giving these boys a chance to seek their revenge, to destroy the people who never gave two shits about them. After all you have been through, Salvatore, I expected you to understand.”
“Nobody survives in the Crows.”
“Says a man who is almost fifty and thriving. We both are,” says David. “We’re hope for the future generations that life gets better. Make up your own rules. Win your own game.”
“As long as you abide by the rules of your master.” I extend my vision out in the room. “Take it from me, boys, as someone who is probably the most hated person in this room—you never win.”
“Not when you fall in love,” adds David.
Laugher follows as David wins over the crowd, doing what he does best. Acting.
“Running a public campaign about orphans may have been too close to home,” continues David. “But it worked. Nothing beats a good adrenaline rush.” He narrows his eyes down on me. “Tell me, Salvatore, when was the last time you felt the adrenaline of doing something dangerous?”
The adrenaline faded a long fucking time ago, the second I realized none of this was worth it.
“Sticking your cock into your assistant’s pussy certainly doesn’t count as adrenaline.”
The Crows laugh, a horrible high-pitched chirping sound echoing through the room. Some of these kids haven’t even fully hit puberty.
They’re too young to be here. Too vulnerable and easy to manipulate.
Anger heats my blood, but I contain it for the time being. David will be paying for these vulgar comments soon.
I know how to contain the fire, to keep it burning without getting burned in the process.
David will be burning, and as I murder him, he will beg for forgiveness.
“What was the deal with Lenny Foster?”
“One of my Crows took care of that lanky fuck.”
Ophelia shifts in my peripheral vision, her eyes widening. Of course. She was under the impression at first that I murdered him. David staged the whole thing, raising money in front of the cameras, paying doctors off behind closed doors.
I shake my head, trying to understand how David could get away with something this big. “The hospital would never go ahead and euthanize—"
“Even when I fill their pockets with millions?” A smile crawls onto David’s face. “I promised to take care of any scandals or lawsuits, should any come their way. Hospitals can be fragile places. All it takes is one small human error, and the entire establishment could go up in flames.”
“Same as your reputation,” I say.
I walk over to Ophelia, removing the tape from her mouth. Her eyes are wide with fear, tears slipping down her face as I approach her.
“Salvatore,” she whispers, grabbing my attention. “Stop. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“She’s right,” says David, walking over.
“Ophelia gave you quite the scare, didn’t she?” I fold my arms over my chest, watching David approach me. “You remember what Renato told us about that ladder.”
“Oh, the ladder,” he drawls. “He loved his analogies. You can’t knock something down when it is already on the ground. That is why I built my base underground.” He gestures to the trap door.
“Clever.”
Ophelia breathes heavily beside me, still trapped to the chair. Her gaze shifts from frightened, becoming something harder. “You are pure evil.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” quips David, walking back out into the room. “You can leave the tape off, Salvatore. I would quite like to hear your little sparrow scream.”
