Deviant (Boys of Winter #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,95

with Michael Harding, we have discovered that together with Paris, the two of them have been organizing attacks on Winter in an attempt to claim Dynasty for themselves.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Earnest says to my right. “How will she claim Dynasty?”

Grayson steps forward moving into the space beside his father’s seat. “Paris plans to murder our leader and claim the identity of her dead sister, London Ravenwood.”

Gasps sound around the table as horrified stares come back to Michael. “She will never sit where London and Andrew once sat,” he spits, his disgust for Michael shining through loud and clear. “I won’t allow it.”

“The other attacks?” Harlen questions. “The assassins in the woods, the hitman in the pool, the ball? That was all you?”

Michael’s head snaps up. “I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT EXPLOSION,” he roars. “I lost my brother that night. How dare you.”

“I thought Scardoni was responsible for the attack in the woods,” Cruz’s father asks, sailing straight over Michael’s hurt feelings about the ball comment.

“He was,” I say. “However it has come to light that both Preston Scardoni and Royston Carver were working under Michael and Paris. They all wanted Dynasty for themselves. They wanted control and power over the rest of you and the world, and they worked together to make it happen. Though who knows what would have happened had they been successful. It would have been a shitstorm of power struggles that would have ended with them and the rest of us dead.”

Carver stands. “My father and Preston have been held accountable for their part in all of this, and now it’s Michael’s turn.”

“Wait,” I say, my sharp glare focusing on Harding. “Tobias King?”

Michael’s jaw clenches as he shakes his head. “I had nothing to do with that and neither did Paris.”

I hold his glare for a moment and for some damn reason, I believe him. He’s been forthcoming with everything else and at this point, there’s no reason to lie. He knows he’s done for. There’s no way in hell he’s going to walk out of here alive and he knows it.

Heads nod all around the table as Sebastian Whitman slams his hands down against the hardwood. “Let’s vote and get this over with. Our families have been fretting for weeks, absolutely terrified. I’m tired of telling my children that they can’t go out and play in their own damn yard in fear of a random shootout.” His hand raises high above his head. “I vote for immediate execution. Who is with me?”

Hands begin rising all around the table as Harding watches on with wide eyes, shaking his head in fear. “No,” he rushes out as the final hand raises, making it a unanimous decision. “I will do time. I don’t want to die. Please, I beg of you. My children need me. My wife ...”

Cruz’s father scoffs. “Your wife is better off without you,” he says, looking at me with a sharp nod to get this underway.

I look back at Michael with disgust. “He’s right. Your wife is better off without you and no matter how much you beg, plead, or pray, you will be dying by my hand today.”

Michael slams his bound hands on the table, attempting to make a scene. “No. This is insane. Are we heathens? Barbarians? Fuck that. A court of law would sentence me to prison. Who are you to determine whether I live or die?”

“I’m your leader,” I growl, “and this is Dynasty, not a court of law. So don’t sit there looking at me like I’m committing some heinous crime against you. You stole my freedom, you stole my safety, and you took it upon yourself to determine whether I was to live or die. An eye for an eye, Harding, and today, the game just turned in my favor.”

“NO, I …”

I look to Grayson, standing ever so still behind his father. “Get him out of here. I will follow in a minute.”

Grayson nods and instantly starts moving toward Michael, and as he does, Cruz moves too, reading the situation probably better than us all and knowing that Michael isn’t going to go easily.

Michael stands and the men on either side of him grip his arms, holding him still as the boys move around the big table to grab him. He flicks his gaze around the room in a panic, desperately searching for a way out of this, looking for freedom or at the very least an ally, but he won’t find one here, not