A Dirty Business (Kings of New York #1)(14)

Ashton hadn’t moved from just beyond the elevator. His gaze was solely focused on me.

I was aware of how much he was aware that I was fast losing any and all restraint I had in me.

I turned, facing Marco and my father in the same direction. “Who are these girls?”

Please be working girls. Not that their fate was any less tragic—it might’ve been more, but because they’d been caught up in this life before now, before my father. He hadn’t been the first to victimize them, just the latest in a long line of others. That, by itself, eased a little bit of the tension in me. Just a tiny bit, but not enough.

And seriously, how sad and pathetic of a thought was that?

“Your father brought them with him. He’s been gambling all week at the casino, getting high and loud in the hotel the rest of the time. We’ve had too many complaints. The last few were calls straight to the police. We cannot give them any more reason than what’s already necessary to come here—”

He would’ve kept going, but I held up a hand. I got the picture.

Ashton’s family bribed a lot of the police, here and in the city, but they didn’t like using favors if they didn’t need to. Especially favors for a jackass like Dominic West.

I locked on my father. “Who are these girls?”

He was big like Stephano, but while Steph kept himself in shape and any excess weight was turned into muscle, I doubted my father could remember the last time he saw the inside of a weight room. He had a paunch on him, and his hair was graying. Right now, it was greasy and messy. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. The bags under his eyes had bags, and they had bags.

I could see the white under his nostrils. He’d recently done a drag.

He also hadn’t answered my question.

“Who are they?” I barked.

“I know you, son—”

I was railing inside. “I’m not your son. Your sperm helped create me, but you and I have never been father and son, so do not start trying to pull that card right now.”

His eyes widened, and his face jerked back a little.

In public, I held more decorum. I let him parade around the father/son charade, but Stephano, my sister, Ashton—they knew the truth. They got the real show. They knew how very, very estranged my father and I were, but I still walked the line in their presence. I played my part in the pretend game, because that’s what we did in the West family.

It was a rule.

Nothing got addressed. Everything got ignored.

But this, how my father took advantage of my relationship, how many times he must’ve gotten high, had sex parties, made a scene—this was only being handled now because another family was fed up. Dominic had committed the cardinal sin in our family. Nothing messes up business, and he’d done that. We needed the Walden family, like they needed us. If there wasn’t harmony between the two, both sides would take a hit. Our alliance was protected at all costs, and now because of that rule, we could finally do something about my father.

My father very much knew that he had truly and royally fucked up. His time for having fun at the expense of my friendship with Ashton was long over. He was getting all of that right now, and I waited, biding my time to see what card he would pull next. He’d either shit his pants, or he’d get self-righteous.

I was hoping for the latter because it wouldn’t feel right hitting a crying man.

He swallowed, taking a step backward, his hands raised. “Tra—”

I let out a low growl.

He amended, “Tristian—”

“Who are those girls?!”

He let out a sigh. “I got ’em from Nemah.”

Nemah.

I didn’t know if that should make me feel better or not, but at least I had options now.

Nemah was locally known for being in the sex business, so that meant these girls knew the score.

“That one needs medical attention now,” I said to Marco.

He nodded to the guard at her door, who went in. The guard came out a second later with her body in his arms, and Ashton hit the elevator door. They opened right as he got there.

“Take Josiah. Take her to the hospital, back entrance. Call our doctor,” Marco instructed. The man gave Marco a nod right as the doors closed on him.

I turned to the guard on the other girl. “Give her something to cover herself.”

He went to the closet and pulled out a blanket, then took it inside the room.

Marco approached as his men did that and asked under his breath, “What do you want done with her?”

I ignored his question for a moment, focusing on my father again.

Dominic West, even though he was a fuckup, was still a West.

Despite the general rule of not killing each other, I wondered, deep down, if I could give the order. If I told Marco to execute my father, would he? Maybe. Ashton, yes. Ashton’s family? I wasn’t sure. It would put them at odds against my family, but Stephano, would he let me do what we both knew needed to be done at some point?

I didn’t know. There was no love between them, and I had no idea if there ever had been.

I was tempted, so really truly fucking tempted.

My mother was dead because of him. He used to beat the shit out of me on the regular until Stephano caught the bruises on my arms. The beatings stopped after that, but I knew he only intensified on my mother.