51

Kingston

“Wait a minute.” Sebastian’s voice goes low and quiet. He glares at me from across my office. “Say that again.”

“I said, my asshole son posted a sex tape of him and Ella.”

Bash blinks at me, like it’s still not sinking in. I called him here so I could tell him in person and we could figure out what the fuck to do, but he’s not being any help.

Then I realize it’s because he’s wound so tight, if he moves, he’ll fucking explode.

I know the feeling, because it’s the same with me. I’m holding tightly to the edge of my desk and it’s taking all of my self-control not to flip it completely over, stomp one of the legs off, and beat my son with it.

“Where is he now,” Sebastian says.

No inflection. No emotion.

I’ve seen him like this once before—seven years ago. So full of rage, he nearly shut down. Only then, the rage was directed inward. It was a scary fucking time, and I’d worried about my friend.

Now, though, I’m just worried about Ella.

“King,” Sebastian says. “Where is he.”

“No fu