Page 55 of Born for Silk
She turns.
“Go back to your room.”
“But you said?—”
“You’re aroused.” My eyes drop to her legs. “You’re trying to hide it, but you’re pressing your thighs together, rubbing them.” I growl my restraint and fist my fingers in tight. “And every Xin De male out there will notice this.”
And I can’t very well execute them all. Can I?
Blood rushes to her cheeks again. She pinches the sides of her skirt, tucking one leg behind the other and bows like the perfect ballerina I know veils something much more interesting. And dangerous to my common sense, it seems.
“Goodnight, my king.”
She walks from the room.
No, little creature.
I was aiming at Odio.
Chapter Seven
Rome
“Rome. Sire? Are you listening?” Medan is losing patience, as he so often does.
Picking my teeth with a skewer and leaning back in my chair, I casually glance across the aged oak table surrounded by my Collective. “I am.”
“Then you need to prepare us.” He points at the table as he speaks. “What the hell happened with Darwin? Where did you go during the carnival? There will be questions.”
“I executed him,” I state plainly.
“Y-you, what?” Medan grips the bridge of his nose, shaking his head and breathing. It’s a mild panic attack, one that he’ll hide beneath concerns for Darwin and The Cradle, when really, he is fucking shit scared that his king is so quick to remove members of his Collective. Darwin isn’t the first. “I have known him my entire life…” He trails off, then clears his throat looking at me again.
Turin Two, my half-brother, stares at me, not intimidated as he knows that even I have my limits—executing my brother is one of them. “Why?”
The words “because I can” are on my tongue when Cairo saunters in answering him in the fashion Cairo is best known for, “For the good of The Trade,” with irrevocable reasoning.
He grips the edge of his seat and nods to each member of my Collective in acknowledgment. He is very good at pretending he respects them. Perhaps he does, in a way. “He is in coalition with rogues. We had to put a stop to it. Rome actioned it while everyone enjoyed the festivities, and no one is the wiser.”
Interesting…
I smirk. “For The Trade.”
Bled shakes his head, chuckling softly, as Turin Two continues, “And what of the Half-tower? They won’t like this at all. They may come to The Estate.”
“They do harbour most of our warships,” Bled states, smoothing his hands out on the table, his fingers admiring the grain and organic motions of authentic, ancient wood. Yes, I know this about him. He is a tactile man. “I just acquired a massive Ice Breaker for them to hunt the sharks. They can venture far and attack us directly from the south.”
Being The Cradle’s Lord of Procurement, with his manners and likability, he was always the right choice for the position, and he knows exactly what tower has what.
And what each need.
I frown at Bled. “And why didn’t you acquire an Ice Breaker for me to keep in The Estate?”
His lips lift in one corner because he knows I’m using the casual conversation to further stir my apathy through Medan’s concerns. “Are you taking up whale and shark fishing as a pastime, Sire?” Bled asks.
“Not today.” I drop the toothpick and lean forward. “I wasn’t going to risk the Silk Girls’ safety, now, was I?” I say, looking straight at Medan. “Are we really going to let him enter The Circle and have free access to their doors? To our legacies.” I lean back again. “I think not.”
Bled, who knows all too well what happened and suspects why, agrees, “A reason is all I needed. For The Trade. For the protection of the Silk Girls. Fine. What to do with the Half-tower?”