The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(31)

Frank had a feeling Lydia King could give him all the dirt he could possibly want on Elliott, but calling her was out of the question. Not only would Journey be pissed, but if Lydia came back to Houston to protect her family, Beck would have to follow through on his threat to ruin her and her company. A fucking mess didn’t begin to cover that situation. No, better to leave Lydia out of it completely.

“Find out who’s paying his debts now.” With a man like Elliott, following the money was their best bet at figuring out his agenda. He straightened. “Anything else I need to know?”

“There’s a list in your office.” Mateo’s fingers flew over the keyboard, his tone distracted. “Nothing urgent, or I would have called you. I can handle anything you want to pass off.”

“Noted.” Frank was going to have to hand out significant bonuses this quarter to his key team. Between dealing with Beck’s situation a few months ago, and now having to step out on operations to secure a favor from Kingdom Corp and Journey King, he was letting them take on more than he usually did. They were more than capable of handling it—Frank only chose the best to trust with running Evans Inc—but it felt strange to let the machine grind on without him at the helm 24-7.

He headed for his office, and he’d barely opened the door before his phone started ringing. Frank dug it out of his pocket. “Frank Evans.”

“You know, I thought you looked familiar when we ran into each other, but I wasn’t sure.”

He stepped into his office and shut the door softly behind him. “Elliott Bancroft, I presume.”

“The very same.”

Elliott had no reason to recognize Frank—they’d never met before the incident at Journey’s apartment—so he must have done some digging. It was the first step Frank would have taken if he was in that position. “I didn’t expect to hear from you after our last conversation.”

“Unfortunate business, that. You know how it is with family.” A genial laugh that set Frank’s teeth on edge. “What am I saying? Of course you don’t. You’re an orphan, I hear. Shame about your old man. Even bigger shame about your mama. Lucky you that she had that life insurance policy paid up, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

Fury nearly stole his words. Do not react. If he told this asshole to keep Frank’s parents out of his fucking mouth, it wouldn’t do anything but tell Elliott exactly where to push to get a reaction. “You have a reason for calling, I assume.”

“My girl didn’t come home this weekend. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Frank stalked out of his office and back down the hall to Mateo’s. He snapped his fingers at the man. Mateo barely got the pen and pad to him in time for him to write. Get two men on Journey King. Subtly. Mateo nodded and went for his phone.

It took everything he had to keep his voice calm. “Journey’s an adult. She hasn’t needed you for the last twenty years, best I can tell. No reason to think she’s going to need you now.”

“A girl never outgrows needing her daddy.”

The smugness in the man’s tone had Frank seeing red. This piece of shit had hurt Journey, even if he hadn’t left a mark on her in the apartment. He didn’t get to sit there and talk about her as if they had anything resembling a healthy father-daughter relationship.

Keep him talking.

Focus on the facts.

Before he could ask what the hell the man wanted again, Elliott continued as if they were having the nicest of chats. “You’re a hard man to get a read on, Frank. I thought I recognized the Evans last name and, sure as shit, your daddy was the one who got too big for his britches all those years ago, and look where that got him. Shame he couldn’t control his temper. That sort of thing run in the family?”

Frank gritted his teeth. He’d been dealing with attitudes like this since as long as he could remember. When he was a kid, that bullshit was leveled at his father—who had too much ambition for the color of his skin, according to those who held power. He had to be better than his political opponents, had to be damn near fucking perfect.

But no one was perfect.

Not even Henry Evans. Especially not Henry Evans.

He was a good father, and a better politician, but he was a shitty-ass husband. His selfishness led to the death of his mistress—his secretary—and he’d been convicted in the court of public opinion long before the judge and jury made it official.

“Get it your point.”

“Now, now, Frank. We’re having a nice little chat. Don’t go and mess it up by being an asshole.” The joking disappeared from Elliott’s voice, revealing the truth of the man beneath it. “Your daddy killed a woman. It’s my fatherly duty to ensure my daughter doesn’t share the same fate as that poor girl. Journey’s not thinking clearly or she wouldn’t be with a man like you.”

A man like you.

He could lie and pretend Elliott meant a murderer like his father, but he knew the truth. As a black man, he’d never be good enough for Journey in Elliott’s opinion—in the opinion of far too many in Houston. No matter how noble his intentions, no matter how much power and money he accrued, the color of his skin would always outweigh anything else for some people.

Elliott numbered among them, which didn’t surprise Frank in the least.