The Scotch King (Scotch #1)

The Scotch King (Scotch #1)

Penelope Sky




1





Crewe

Handcuffed and sporting a black eye, Joseph Ingram sat in the black chair with his hands bound behind his back. The left side of his lip was swollen from a powerful fist, and his tailored suit possessed holes from the burning end of a cigarette. Two of his men flanked him on either side, just as bloodied as he was.

Stirling Castle was so ancient my mind couldn’t comprehend it. Built in the 12th century, my Scottish ancestors lived in luxury. Times had changed, but the family line had remained intact. I was the owner of this fine landmark, but its sole purpose was for business endeavors.

Like this one.

I entered the room in my black suit with matching black tie. My silver cufflinks caught the dim light as I took my seat across the table from Joseph, a man I despised immensely. When it came to business, personal opinion was irrelevant. Whoever paid the right price was entitled to whatever I had to offer.

But this man made the mistake of betraying me.

He couldn’t meet my gaze, afraid of my wrath. Foolish for thinking he would get away with it, he was now at my mercy. I could do anything I wanted, and he knew it. I could kill him and bury him in the graveyard where my ancient ancestors rotted. I could cut up his body and drop the pieces off the coast.

Joseph bowed his head slightly, as if the muscles of his neck couldn’t keep his head upright. He reminded me of a baby, too weak to carry his own weight.

I crossed my legs under the table and unbuttoned the front of my suit. One hand rested on my propped-up knee as I examined my foe, this idiot with an ego too big to handle. I traded him some valuable intelligence for a premium price—four million dollars.

But he didn’t pay up.

Instead, he gave me counterfeit bills.

Like I wouldn’t have figured it out. “You insulted me, Joseph.”

The second I spoke, he flinched slightly. He adjusted his body in the chair, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, he shook. I spotted the tremble in his arms, the shake of his extremities.

“And you know what I do to people who insult me.”

He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. “Crewe—”

“Mr. Donoghue.” Dunbar was my right-hand man, serving out his life in voluntary servitude. I saved his life and gave him the vengeance he deserved. As a result, he devoted his life to serving me—loyally.

Joseph cringed at the false move. “Mr. Donoghue, I’m sorry.”

I chuckled because he was making it worse. “Don’t apologize. Men like us don’t apologize for our wrongdoings. We have every intent of lying, stealing, and misleading our victims. Own up to it—like man.”

Joseph fell quiet, knowing he was out of excuses.

“I’ll respect you more for it.”

Joseph finally looked at me, his brown eyes showing his weakness. “I’ll double the amount I owe you. Eight million. Just let me go.”

“Now we’re talking.” I adjusted the sleeve of my suit, meticulous about my appearance, like always. I wore power like a fresh suit, filling out the clothing as if it were made for me. An invisible crown sat upon my head, something I balanced at all times.

“I can get it to you in twenty-four hours,” he said. “All in cash. Just let us go.”

“A tempting offer.” Now that we’d cut to the chase, things were a lot more interesting.

“Do we have a deal?” He adjusted his arms to get comfortable. The bite of the metal around his wrists must have been painful.

I gazed at his two cronies, both equally unimpressive. While they were burly with muscle, they didn’t have true strength and agility. Their eyes hinted at stupidity, following orders without understanding what they were doing. That’s how they got into this mess in the first place—because their boss was even dumber. “Money doesn’t mean anything to me, Joseph. Reputation is everything.”

His eyes fell with devastation. “I’ll make it twelve million.”

The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “You need to learn how to listen.”

His rate of breathing increased, his chest rising and falling with his impending doom.

“I have an image to maintain. If I let you off the hook that easily, my other business partners won’t hesitate to cross me. Obviously, I can’t allow this.”

“Don’t kill me…” His voice shook in desperation. “I made a mistake. You’ve made mistakes too.”

“But it wasn’t a mistake.” Now my voice deepened, my anger slowly growing to enormous proportions. “You aren’t a child, Joseph. You understood what you were doing when you did it. Your only mistake was the idiotic belief that you could get away with it.”

He bowed his head, his chest moving at a quicker pace.

“I don’t accept your money. However, I’m going to let you go.”

Joseph raised his head slowly, his eyes meeting mine with incredulity.

I had the perfect compensation for what he had done, something you couldn’t put a price on. I had no remorse for what I had done. It was my responsibility to make an example of my enemies—and I did it well. “I’ve stolen something from you worth more than money. I’ve taken something innocent—something pure. And you’ll never get it back.”

Now Joseph began to shake for entirely different reasons.

“I’ve taken your lovely sister, London. Now she’s mine.” I tilted my head and watched his expression, knowing his reaction would be utterly priceless. “She’s on her way here now—to become my prisoner.”

Joseph’s jaw clenched before his eyes widened to the size of baseballs. He burst out of his seat like an angry bronco coming out of the chute. His forehead bulged with a thick vein and his face reddened to the color of a beet. “You motherfucker—”

Dunbar slugged him in the gut and slammed him back down into the chair. He punched him in the mouth for the insult he’d just unleashed my way. “Watch what you say to Mr. Donoghue. Might be your last words.” He stood behind Joseph ominously, his arms crossed over his chest.

Joseph clenched his jaw again, frustrated. He was completely helpless to do anything, and that made his rage burn more brightly. His only family member in the world had been taken from him, and he had to sit there and play nice.

I almost felt bad for him—almost. “Would you rather me kill you?”

For an instant, his anger vanished as he considered the question. “Absolutely.”

I cocked my head to the side, intrigued by the selfless response. Men like us used others as bulletproof vests, allowing a pile of victims to form around us so we remained untouched. But Joseph didn’t hesitate before he gave me his answer. “Then I made the right decision.”