The Scotch King: Book One

by Penelope Sky

  The Scotch King

  Book One

  Penelope Sky

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  * * *

  Hartwick Publishing

  The Scotch King

  Editing Services provided by Final-Edits.com

  Copyright © 2017 by Penelope Sky

  All Rights Reserved

  1

  Crewe

  Handcuffed and sporting a black eye, Joseph Ingram sat in the black chair with his hands bound behind his back. The left side of his lip was swollen from a powerful fist, and his tailored suit possessed holes from the burning end of a cigarette. Two of his men flanked him on either side, just as bloodied as he was.

  Stirling Castle was so ancient my mind couldn’t comprehend it. Built in the 12th century, my Scottish ancestors lived in luxury. Times had changed, but the family line had remained intact. I was the owner of this fine landmark, but its sole purpose was for business endeavors.

  Like this one.

  I entered the room in my black suit with matching black tie. My silver cufflinks caught the dim light as I took my seat across the table from Joseph, a man I despised immensely. When it came to business, personal opinion was irrelevant. Whoever paid the right price was entitled to whatever I had to offer.

  But this man made the mistake of betraying me.

  He couldn’t meet my gaze, afraid of my wrath. Foolish for thinking he would get away with it, he was now at my mercy. I could do anything I wanted, and he knew it. I could kill him and bury him in the graveyard where my ancient ancestors rotted. I could cut up his body and drop the pieces off the coast.

  Joseph bowed his head slightly, as if the muscles of his neck couldn’t keep his head upright. He reminded me of a baby, too weak to carry his own weight.

  I crossed my legs under the table and unbuttoned the front of my suit. One hand rested on my propped-up knee as I examined my foe, this idiot with an ego too big to handle. I traded him some valuable intelligence for a premium price—four million dollars.

  But he didn’t pay up.

  Instead, he gave me counterfeit bills.

  Like I wouldn’t have figured it out. “You insulted me, Joseph.”

  The second I spoke, he flinched slightly. He adjusted his body in the chair, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, he shook. I spotted the tremble in his arms, the shake of his extremities.

  “And you know what I do to people who insult me.”

  He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. “Crewe—”

  “Mr. Donoghue.” Dunbar was my right-hand man, serving out his life in voluntary servitude. I saved his life and gave him the vengeance he deserved. As a result, he devoted his life to serving me—loyally.

  Joseph cringed at the false move. “Mr. Donoghue, I’m sorry.”

  I chuckled because he was making it worse. “Don’t apologize. Men like us don’t apologize for our wrongdoings. We have every intent of lying, stealing, and misleading our victims. Own up to it—like man.”

  Joseph fell quiet, knowing he was out of excuses.

  “I’ll respect you more for it.”

  Joseph finally looked at me, his brown eyes showing his weakness. “I’ll double the amount I owe you. Eight million. Just let me go.”

  “Now we’re talking.” I adjusted the sleeve of my suit, meticulous about my appearance, like always. I wore power like a fresh suit, filling out the clothing as if it were made for me. An invisible crown sat upon my head, something I balanced at all times.

  “I can get it to you in twenty-four hours,” he said. “All in cash. Just let us go.”

  “A tempting offer.” Now that we’d cut to the chase, things were a lot more interesting.

  “Do we have a deal?” He adjusted his arms to get comfortable. The bite of the metal around his wrists must have been painful.

  I gazed at his two cronies, both equally unimpressive. While they were burly with muscle, they didn’t have true strength and agility. Their eyes hinted at stupidity, following orders without understanding what they were doing. That’s how they got into this mess in the first place—because their boss was even dumber. “Money doesn’t mean anything to me, Joseph. Reputation is everything.”

  His eyes fell with devastation. “I’ll make it twelve million.”

  The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “You need to learn how to listen.”

  His rate of breathing increased, his chest rising and falling with his impending doom.

  “I have an image to maintain. If I let you off the hook that easily, my other business partners won’t hesitate to cross me. Obviously, I can’t allow this.”

  “Don’t kill me…” His voice shook in desperation. “I made a mistake. You’ve made mistakes too.”

  “But it wasn’t a mistake.” Now my voice deepened, my anger slowly growing to enormous proportions. “You aren’t a child, Joseph. You understood what you were doing when you did it. Your only mistake was the idiotic belief that you could get away with it.”

  He bowed his head, his chest moving at a quicker pace.

  “I don’t accept your money. However, I’m going to let you go.”

  Joseph raised his head slowly, his eyes meeting mine with incredulity.

  I had the perfect compensation for what he had done, something you couldn’t put a price on. I had no remorse for what I had done. It was my responsibility to make an example of my enemies—and I did it well. “I’ve stolen something from you worth more than money. I’ve taken something innocent—something pure. And you’ll never get it back.”

  Now Joseph began to shake for entirely different reasons.

  “I’ve taken your lovely sister, London. Now she’s mine.” I tilted my head and watched his expression, knowing his reaction would be utterly priceless. “She’s on her way here now—to become my prisoner.”

  Joseph’s jaw clenched before his eyes widened to the size of baseballs. He burst out of his seat like an angry bronco coming out of the chute. His forehead bulged with a thick vein and his face reddened to the color of a beet. “You motherfucker—”

  Dunbar slugged him in the gut and slammed him back down into the chair. He punched him in the mouth for the insult he’d just unleashed my way. “Watch what you say to Mr. Donoghue. Might be your last words.” He stood behind Joseph ominously, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Joseph clenched his jaw again, frustrated. He was completely helpless to do anything, and that made his rage burn more brightly. His only family member in the world had been taken from him, and he had to sit there and play nice.

  I almost felt bad for him—almost. “Would you rather me kill you?”

  For an instant, his anger vanished as he considered the question. “Absolutely.”

  I cocked my head to the side, intrigued by the selfless response. Men like us used others as bulletproof vests, allowing a pile of victims to form around us so we remained untouched. But Joseph didn’t hesitate before he gave me his answer. “Then I made the right decision.”

  The vein in his forehead bulged once more. His arms shook as he tried to break the chain of his handcuffs with only his strength. “She has nothing to do with this. Please, leave her alone.”

  When I got the detailed report about London, I was impressed. At a young age, she was already a medical student at NYU. At the top of her class, she was expected to go fa
r. The guys told me she was a looker, with deep brown hair and hazel eyes. So, she had brains and beauty. It really was a shame she would live out the rest of her life in chains. “You should have thought this through before you crossed me, Joseph.” I adjusted my watch on my wrist, feeling the smooth platinum with my fingertips.

  “Cut off my hand, alright?” Spit flew from his mouth because he was talking so fast. “Just spare her.”

  “Sorry. I have to make an example of the people who cross me. Every time they see London chained to the wall during a business meeting, they’ll think twice. When they witness her cruel treatment, her rags for clothes, they’ll know deception isn’t worth it.”

  Joseph yanked on the chains again. “This isn’t right.”

  “No, it’s not,” I said simply. Most things in life weren’t right. And it certainly wasn’t fair. Like everyone else, I’d suffered once upon a time. But I changed my future rather than accepting it. Everyone had the choice—whether they realized it or not. “I will take her when I wish. My men will take her if they so choose. Every night, when you’re sleeping in your warm bed, just know London is wishing for death.”

  His face turned pale as the blood drained from it. Instead of being livid, he looked terrified. Knowing his sister was facing a lifetime of cruel punishment because of his mishap must have been the heaviest form of guilt a man could experience.

  “I’m gonna let you go, Joseph,” I continued. “Your punishment will be to live. To live and know your sister’s life was taken because of your stupidity. If you try to save her, I’ll kill you. It’s as simple as that.” I snapped my fingers, cuing Dunbar into action.

  Dunbar unlocked their handcuffs, letting their arms go free. Joseph massaged his wrists, which were red and sliced in some places. He stared me down with the same rage as before, but now it was mixed with grief.

  I waited for him to do something, to make an attempt on my life. I hoped he would. Then I would get to snuff the life out of this man and still abuse his sister. It was a win-win. Everyone in my world would know I exercised complete power. I saw everything—even if I pretended not to.

  Joseph finally stood up, his cronies following suit. Dunbar and the rest of my men escorted them outside while I remained in my chair. I didn’t see him off, and once he was behind me, I didn’t look back. My back was vulnerable and completely exposed, yet I didn’t have a single care in the world.

  Because whatever attack he made would miss the mark.

  2

  Crewe

  The plane was already in the air before I began my conversation with Joseph. After they landed at the airport, they took my private helicopter and flew to the Shetland Islands, the northern tip of Scotland where I kept my residence. Subarctic, it was cold year round—but absolutely beautiful. I’d lived in many places during my lifetime, but the remote archipelago had a quaint quality I couldn’t find anywhere else.

  With a small population, Scandinavian influences were prevalent among the islands. Life moved at a slower pace, concentrating on old Scottish ways of life. Most inhabitants were Shetland breeders, the small horses that weren’t much bigger than a pony. The grass was always green, and the ocean brought fresh air across the land on a daily basis. Full of wildlife, it was far removed from the bustling city and the rest of the United Kingdom.

  My home had been built hundreds of years ago. I had to refurbish the interior, adding hardwood floors, central heating, and all the renovations that accommodated my eccentric taste. However, it still took on the appearance of a castle in the Scottish Highlands. It felt like a castle rather than a home, sometimes.

  I sat in the living room, drinking my scotch and looking over a report from my distilleries where they created whiskey, making sure the blending was just right and still true to the flavor my ancestors created in the fifteenth century.

  Ariel walked into the room in jeans with heels and a thick black sweater. Her brown hair was pulled back into an elegant updo. While she was soft on the eyes, she was hard on the inside. She was ruthless, authoritative, and cold—the best business partner I could ask for. “The helicopter is landing, Crewe.”

  I set my work on the coffee table, abandoning the smooth scotch that flowed down my throat with just the right amount of heat. “Thank you, Ariel.” I buttoned the front of my suit then adjusted my watch. “We should give our new guest a proper greeting, shall we?” The corner of my mouth rose in a smile, knowing Joseph would pay for his recklessness until the day he died.

  We left through the backdoor and crossed the short hawkweed and chickweed grass as we approached the helicopter that was slowly descending on the flat field. The property was right at the coastline and very secluded. I was never concerned neighbors would discover my criminal activities due to their proximity. The only way back to the Scottish mainland was by boat or helicopter. The help was in charge of gathering supplies we needed on a daily basis.

  Ariel walked beside me as we approached the chopper. It landed on the grass with grace before the engine was shut off. The propeller still spun as the engine cooled down. We stood side by side as we waited for our guest.

  Ariel’s loose strands flew back in the wind from the propellers, and slowly, they fluttered until her hair was perfect once more. She placed her hands in her pockets, looking just as terrifying as me.

  Dunbar came from the rear and joined us, his arm crossed over his muscular chest.

  Ethan emerged from the helicopter carrying a woman in his arms. She was unconscious, her head dangling over the edge of his arm. Her long brown hair blew in the wind. She wore dark jeans and a simple top, obviously used to the humid weather of New York City in the summertime.

  She was in for a surprise.

  Ethan carried her toward me, the rest of the team in tow. In a black hoodie and dark jeans, he carried London effortlessly. “She was a bit ornery. Had to put her under.” He shifted her in his arms before he handed her off to Dunbar.

  I took a peek at her, seeing the fair skin of her flawless cheeks. She had a small nose, full lips, and eyelashes that would make her eyes stand out if they were open. Petite in size, she didn’t seem like she could put up much of a fight. “She reminds me of a puppy—so innocent.”

  Ethan chuckled. “This woman is not innocent. She almost got a hold of my gun. There’s no doubt in my mind she would have pulled the trigger.”

  Now my interest was truly piqued. “Maybe she has more in common with Joseph than we realized.” I nodded back toward the house. “Let’s go.”

  We walked back inside and went downstairs to the basement. It was still in the formation of a prison, with cement flooring and walls. There was a small cot in the corner, a toilet and a sink, but nothing else. There weren’t any windows because the basement extended deep into the ground. Only a few lights were on at a time, keeping my prisoner in near darkness.

  Dunbar set her on the cot and pulled the blanket over her shoulders since she was frozen from the trek across the lawn. He pulled her hair out of her face and took a good look at her. “I’m excited for a go. She really is as beautiful as Ethan said.” He left her on the cot then closed the door, locking her up in a cell made of steel bars. She had no privacy from anyone within the basement. But now that she was no longer a real person, it didn’t matter. She was my retribution for what Joseph had done to me. I would get the four million dollars that was owed to me.

  Actually, London would.

  Everyone except my butler left for the day. Ariel and Dunbar took the helicopter back to the mainland, where they lived their own lives and spent their free time. I remained in the living room, drinking scotch in front of the fire and placing the cool glass against my temple when I felt a migraine coming on.

  I enjoyed the peace and quiet this island provided. Sometimes it felt like just me and the sea, the waves crashing down against the cliff right outside my front window. I liked to keep the windows open so I could listen to the rhythmic sound. Something about its consistency stilled my nerves. Just li
ke the sun would rise and set every single day, the waves would meet the shore, unaffected by any living man. The absolute power the elements had over mankind was fascinating to me.

  I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave that kind of power myself.

  Thump.

  I stopped breathing when I heard the sound.

  Thump. Thump.

  I concentrated on the sound to pinpoint where it was coming from. Sometimes the wind howled on a cruel night, but there hadn’t been a storm in the forecast. I abandoned my scotch on the table and rose to my feet, thinking of where my weapons were stowed in the house, easily accessible from every room.

  Thump.

  My eyes darted to the ground, realizing exactly where the noise was coming from.

  The basement.

  My guest was awake.

  I walked down the stairs to the basement wearing jeans and a t-shirt now that everyone had left for the day. After I opened the door, I peeked down the stairway and spotted London. She stood back on one leg and kicked the bars as hard as she could, trying to make them crack under her power. The force was so minimal, the bars didn’t even shake. She aimed for the hinges of the door but that didn’t make a difference either. Absorbed in her poor attempt to free herself, she didn’t notice my light footsteps as I approached the bottom of the basement. “The only thing you’re going to break is your knee.”

  At the sound of my voice, she stood back, her forehead gleaming with sweat and her hair messy from exerting herself. Her hands were still held in front of her body, prepared for anything.

  I walked to the door and looked at her, noting the way her jeans hugged her curvy hips and thin legs. The gray V-neck she wore pointed to her tiny waist, her natural hourglass figure obvious. She was definitely pretty, but she didn’t do anything for me. The guys talked about her like she was a perfect ten.

  She was a perfect nobody to me.

  “These bars are made out of steel, in case you didn’t notice. And we’re in the middle of the ocean on an island, so if you break something, you’re on your own. All I’ve got is Tylenol.” I stood at the bars and examined her, my arms crossed over my chest.