The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(10)

“That’s a rich accusation considering what I know of your extracurricular activities.” He sounded so satisfied, her stomach dropped and then rose at lightning speed, leaving her dizzy. Elliott continued, practically purring. “Rough night, sweetheart?”

Don’t call me that. She bit down the response. He already knew far too many of her buttons—he was far too many of her buttons. Giving him more ammunition was out of the question. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m in the office and you aren’t, so…Who really had the rough night?”

He laughed, the sound so familiar, she sank into her chair and crossed her legs—hard—using the ache from Frank’s bite marks to steady herself. I’m not a child anymore. I’m a fucking adult and he can’t hurt me. She took a shallow breath. “Is there something you needed, or were you trying to ruin my morning coffee?”

Just like that, the charming daddy mask disappeared, replaced by the cold thing that dwelled beneath. “Going forward, anyone who serves on the board of directors will need to be approved. What happened with your mother was incredibly unfortunate and could have been avoided with a proper vetting process—one I fully intend to implement.”

Dread weighted down her limbs. “Who’s handling this vetting process—aside from you?”

“There are a handful of investors who haven’t been pleased with the direction Kingdom Corp is going and who are eager to take a more hands-on role.” She could practically hear his grin. “The vetting process begins this week. If anyone is found to be…unfit…they will be removed from their position within the board—and potentially removed from the company as well. We can’t have unfit individuals in charge of any kind of operation. Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart?”

Me. He means me. I’m the weak link.

Anderson’s hand closed around her shoulder, making her jump. He squeezed, his fingers digging in just enough that she managed to exhale the breath she’d been holding. “I’m not convinced a board you’ve helped bankroll is the most unbiased method of deciding if someone is unfit.”

“You don’t have to be convinced. This is happening. The board will make a decision based on the information given to them. I’m bringing in a psychologist to analyze every member and give the thumbs-up or thumbs-down.”

“That’s hardly legal.”

His low laugh rolled down the line, making her stomach twist painfully. Elliott could be vicious, but he’d always been his scariest when he laughed. It was often the only warning they got before one of his creative games. The kind that ended in visits from the doctor the family had on retainer.

“Check your contract. You’ll find it’s perfectly legal.” He paused meaningfully. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. It’s not as if you’re damaged goods and in danger of snapping under pressure. What could a shrink possibly find that would make them declare you unfit?”

Her mouth worked, but no words emerged.

Elliott didn’t seem to need an answer. “I look forward to seeing your report on internal operations by Friday.” He hung up.

She turned to Anderson. “He’s going to try to oust us.”

“It’s looking like that.” He took out his phone and started scrolling.

“What are you doing?”

He met her gaze. “We might not individually hold the majority of shares in the company, but if all of us stand against him, we might be able to at least slow this down until we think of a more permanent plan.”

Journey pressed a hand to her chest. It took everything she had to force out the next words. “If we told…If we told the truth, they would declare him unfit.”

“Jo, no.” Anderson crouched in front of her and took her hands. He waited for her to look directly at him to keep speaking. “We have no evidence. No hospital records. No witnesses. Even if we could prove that he’s a sadistic monster, the statute of limitations comes into play. It’s been damn near twenty years. All telling the truth would do is reopen old wounds for the sake of his amusement. We’ll find another way. I’ll fucking kill him before I let him make victims of us again.” His steady tone gave lie to any fiction she might spin about him bluffing.

Anderson never bluffed.

She gripped his hands tightly. “Don’t you dare. You promised me you wouldn’t.”

“Fuck, Jo, I was nine. Of course I promised you then.”

Anderson might cover up his scars better than she did, but times like these put them on full display. The wildness in his blue eyes was a look she hadn’t seen in decades, the one that told her he didn’t see a way out of this. She couldn’t let him kill Elliott. Their father liked to use Journey to control Anderson, and time apparently hadn’t changed that particular playbook of his.

As much as she hated dancing to her father’s tune, she wouldn’t let her brother throw away his life. Not now, when they’d worked so hard to do more than survive. She squeezed his hands harder. “You. Promised.”

He hesitated for a long moment and finally exhaled, his shoulders dropping an inch in defeat. “Jo—”

“If you go after him, you’re playing right into his hands. Think, Anderson. You know he has some kind of contingency plan ready in case you try to hurt him.”