11. Christian

Chapter 11

Christian

“ W here is he?!” Christian screamed at his men. He turned around and, in a rage, swiped everything off of his long desk. A picture frame bounced against the marble ground, shattering, before landing at his feet.

Using the bottom of his shoe, he moved the glass away to better see the image. It pictured three men–his brother, himself, and a friend of theirs. “Somebody clean this shit up!”

He heaved in and out, turning back to his five most trusted men.

Five . And not one of them could find his brother. Could tell him where the idiot had gone off to this time.

His brother, Sebastian, had just returned home and now he was gone again, off doing whatever the fuck it was he got himself into.

His phone rang, interrupting his explosive rage. It was their friend. “What did you find?” Christian snarled into the phone.

“A body.” The voice spoke the words slowly, in his usual calm off-putting tone.

“Whose?” Christian reached behind him for the item tucked inconspicuously in his pants.

“Your brother. I just managed to take pictures before a crew was sent to clean it up.”

Christian’s heart pounded against his chest, he did everything to smash down the frenzied energy that was wrapping tendrils around his black heart. There was no love lost between him and his brother. But it was his blood.

Only one family in this town would dare to touch a York.

Even if the treaty stated otherwise.

“The Castillos,” the voice on the phone confirmed.

The egregious disrespect would need to be dealt with. He had called off the war due to the severe losses on all sides, and they had come to an agreement. Clearly that was now null and void, and he would need to act, but first…

Christian disconnected the call; he had heard enough. He appraised his men. “Who saw Sebastian last?”

Four of the men stepped back, leaving one behind.

Christian lifted the gun in his hand that he had pulled from his suit.

The lone man did not snivel or cower. “Sir, I did as directed.”

“You did,” Christian agreed before shooting the remaining four men.

His last trusted man did not flinch as the shots rang out, nor did he react as their blood pooled beneath his feet.

“Now figure out why he went off on his own,” Christian snarled, his attention returning to the picture frame on the floor.