Digging my cell out, I dial Dan, who’s been head of security and my driver since I racked up my first million years ago. He picks up on the first ring, his no-nonsense tone echoing in my ear.
“Any sign of her?”
There’s a silent pause before, “She hasn’t left her suite, Mr. King.”
“Fucking Christ.” I hang up, raking an agitated hand through my hair. Mackenzie, Scarlett, whoever the fuck she wants to be, is driving me nuts. She has been since she stepped foot in my resort and turned my entire world upside down.
I’m a lot like the rest of the guys. I don’t normally fuck twice. I don’t have the time or the patience for relationships, which is why I have a select few partners I call when I need a date to an event or the like. It’s easier that way. Sure, the media and gossip rags like to print shit about me, thinking they know every aspect of my private life, but they don’t.
I’m just about to head straight for the elevator banks and explain this all to Mackenzie when the automatic glass doors in the lobby slide open and Marcus walks in. I’ve known the guy almost all my life, and the expression on his face has my spine going ramrod straight.
His brows take a nosedive as he closes the distance between us. “You got a sixth sense for bad news?”
“Got stood up, actually.”
Marcus tosses his head back and laughs at my expense. “That’s a fucking first.”
“And the last. Hurry up and start talking. I have a woman I need to talk some sense into after this.”
“He’s doing it again,” Marcus starts the second I shut my office door. I settle into the winged back chair, preparing myself for whatever bad news Marcus has.
“When isn’t Vincent doing something he’s not supposed to be doing?” I say drily.
“There’s a video and picture evidence this time. If we don’t take care of this now, it’ll ruin everything. The reputation of Kings will be shot to shit, and chances are, it’ll blow back on the restaurants and resorts, too.”
To prove his point, Marcus pulls his phone out and hits play on the screen. My back teeth gnash together and the muscle in my jaw clenches as I watch Vincent put his hands on the woman he’s been seeing. He often gets caught up in drugs and other domestic disputes. The anger issues he had as a kid have only gotten worse over the years.
After the video is over, Marcus swipes, revealing the victim’s face after the brawl. I heave a tired sigh, rubbing at my temples with vigor as I feel the migraine looming.
“Apparently, he was drunk and snapped. She said one minute he was fine, and the next, he was wailing on her. She wants money, or she’s pressing charges and leaking everything to the media outlets.”
My hands curl into fists, and I bang them on the edge of my desk in frustration. I’m too old to be dealing with this shit and cleaning up Vincent’s messes. If it’s not him, it’s Zach, and if it’s not Zach, it’s fucking Trent. Those three together are the goddamn bane of my existence. Part of me wants to cut them loose—God knows my business and I would be better off without them. But the other part of me, the part that grew up as an only child, sees them as my brothers—albeit, my fucking idiotic brothers, but still family, nonetheless. Blood doesn’t make us family. The Savages were formed years ago, and that’s a bond that refuses to be broken.
“He’s never going to learn. He’s never going to stop if we’re always here to keep him out of trouble. Hell, after the way he put his hands on her, I say let her press charges. The fucking bastard deserves it.”
Marcus sighs, shaking his head. “You know we can’t do that, man. All of our names and reputations are tied up in Kings. I refuse to let Vincent fuck that up. For any of us.”
“Fucking hell. I knew going into business with any of them was going to be a mistake.”
And I did know it; yet, I still went along with it because the guys are my family. After so many failed ventures among the three of them, they came to me for help. They came to me to make the possibility of Kings a reality. I should’ve said no.
“I told you this would happen, Baz. Just let me know how you want me to handle it.”
I scratch at my chin contemplatively. I don’t condone violence, least of all violence against a woman. Vincent should be paying for that, but the risk of that is blowback on my businesses and everything I’ve worked for. There’s not a fucking chance in hell I’m letting Vincent fuck that up.
“How much for the settlement?”
The skin around Marcus’s eyes tightens. “She wants four million.”
I grind my molars together so hard, I can practically feel the enamel grating off. “Do it. And transfer all of Vincent’s shares over to me for the time being. He’ll be paying for his sins with his own money, that’s for damn sure.”
Marcus drums his fingers on the edge of my desk as he pushes to his feet. “I’ll get on it. Oh, and here’s the cash. Three stacks were all you needed?” He digs into his jacket pockets and drops the stacks of money onto my desk.
“Yeah, that should be enough to pay him under the table.”
Marcus shakes his head, grinning at me as he heads toward the door. “The media is wrong. I think you do have a heart in there somewhere.”
I roll my eyes. “What was I supposed to do? Let him and his family get deported? He’s a good guy. He deserves to have a good life.”
“Fucking saint Sebastian, I’m telling you, man,” he taunts on his way out.
“I’m the furthest person from a saint,” I mumble as I set the money aside and lock up behind me, heading for Mackenzie’s room.
I never chase after women this way. If this was anyone else, I’d shrug it off and call it a day, but this isn’t anyone else. For some reason, Mackenzie gets under my skin. From the moment I saw her on the phone in my restaurant when there was a sign strictly forbidding entrance, I was drawn to her. Completely enraptured and ensnared in her trap. She’s like a siren, calling to me. Her voice and body are so majestic, I have no other option but to get closer.
I want to know her. I want to know what makes her tick, what kind of home she came from, and what her likes and dislikes are. I’ve never cared to learn any of those things, but with Mackenzie, she’s one of the only women capable of holding my attention. It’s not often I let people in, showing them the real me, and every time I’m near her, I have this inane need to bare myself to her. It’s a battle I wage not to. Instead, I let the ice settle in my chest and remain as unaffected as I can. I pretend she’s just like the rest; it’s easier that way.
Outside her door, I rap my knuckles against the wood, giving her the impression she has a choice whether to answer. In reality, she doesn’t. I own this entire building and all the land surrounding it. She’d do well to remember that.
I hear her soft footfalls on the other side of the wood. They stop just in front of her door, and a long pause ensues. She’s likely waging her own battle, deciding if opening this door is a good idea. It probably isn’t. She’s probably better off with a man like me out of her life, but I don’t care. I’ve always been a selfish man, and with Mackenzie? That’s no different.