Chapter 26: I Want the Wild Hounds

Leo and Marcus exchanged a brief glance before taking the sofa opposite him. A smoked-glass table sat between them like a demilitarized zone.

Darius tilted his head toward Rowan, who was back to standing behind him.

"Rowan, sit. I won’t have you standing through this whole conversation."

Rowan straightened even further, if that was possible. "Your Highness, I’m perfectly fine with standing—"

"Did I ask what you’re fine with?"

Rowan’s mouth snapped shut.

"If you’re going to be my personal guard, you’ll have to learn to follow my instructions without question and without delay," Darius said. "I don’t like repeating myself."

Rowan’s jaw worked once before he dipped his head. "My apologies, Your Highness."

He stepped forward and lowered himself onto the same sofa as Darius, leaving a respectful distance between them. Even seated, his back remained perfectly straight.

Darius turned his attention back to Leo.

"Now, back to why I’m here. You wrote that there were things you needed to say to me face-to-face. Things you’d rather not hide behind ink and paper."

He uncurled his fingers from the armrest and gestured loosely.

"Here I am. Face to face. So talk."

Leo leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"Once again, Your Highness, I’m sorry for what my sister put you through," he said. "Like I said in the letter, I was never in support of her actions, even if I did nothing to stop them."

Darius studied him for a moment.

At least the man had enough sense to admit his own share of the responsibility instead of pretending he was completely innocent.

"Your Highness," Leo continued, "the main reason I wanted to meet you, aside from apologizing in person, is because of my men currently sitting in royal prison. There has to be a reason you still haven’t told the Royal Police who was responsible for putting you in that hospital bed."

His gaze remained steady.

"I believe you’re waiting for some form of compensation. Otherwise, they would’ve come after us already."

From where he was sitting, Rowan’s eyes shifted from Leo to Darius.

These were the people responsible?

These were the men who had beaten His Highness badly enough to put him in a hospital bed?

Rowan’s expression remained neutral, but his opinion of everyone in the room dropped sharply. He had known Prince Darius’s injuries weren’t the result of an ordinary street fight, but hearing the truth confirmed so casually left a bitter taste in his mouth.

And they had the audacity to sit here negotiating after nearly killing a member of the royal family.

Leo either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the look. "I’m prepared to offer whatever compensation Your Highness wants," he said. "As long as you spare my men and the Wild Hounds, I’ll do everything in my power to make it right. Whatever conditions you set, I’ll fulfill them. And I can personally guarantee that nothing like this will ever happen again."

Darius’s expression didn’t change once throughout Leo’s explanation.

"Name your price, Your Highness," Leo said. "Whatever it is you want in exchange for sparing my men and the Wild Hounds, I’m prepared to provide it."

Darius uncrossed his legs and crossed them again the other way. The movement was slow and completely unhurried.

"Tell me, Leo," he said, "how much do you think you can possibly give me that would be enough?"

His gaze drifted lazily across the room before returning to the gang leader.

"Are you forgetting that I’m now a prince of this kingdom? Or is the Wild Hounds indirectly claiming they’re richer than the royal family?" A smile tugged at his lips.

"The King would probably have a heart attack if he heard something like that."

Leo’s fist clenched tightly. This was not going to go nearly as smoothly as he had hoped.

He had prepared himself for anger, demands, and even outright hostility. What he hadn’t prepared for was Darius casually dismantling every offer before it was even made.

"Your Highness," Marcus started, leaning forward slightly. "What Leo is trying to—"

The look Darius gave him cut him off immediately.

Marcus’s mouth snapped shut.

For a brief moment, he found himself wondering the same thing Leo had.

Was this guy really a poor waiter before the royal family found him?

Because nothing about him felt like one.

Darius’s eyes remained on Marcus.

"Let me make something clear." His voice never rose, yet the room somehow felt quieter. "Don’t ever speak to me while I’m talking to your boss."

Marcus held his gaze. Darius smiled faintly. "I don’t care what kind of relationship the two of you have. I don’t care if you’re his right-hand man, his advisor, or his fuck buddy."

His eyes flicked briefly between Marcus and Leo before returning to Marcus. "When I’m speaking to him, you wait your turn."

Marcus’s jaw tightened. Why did it feel like he was being lectured by a gang leader instead of a lost prince?

After a moment, he inclined his head.

"My apologies, Your Highness."

Across the room, Rosé stared in disbelief. Was this really the same boy she used to walk all over? The same person who had quietly endured every scheme she threw at him?

Or was he only acting this way because he believed the royal family would protect him now? For the first time since Darius entered the room, uncertainty crept into her thoughts.

Leo closed his eyes briefly and exhaled through his nose.

"Forgive him, Your Highness," he said, shooting Marcus a warning look before turning back to Darius. "Marcus spoke out of turn. It won’t happen again."

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he kept his mouth shut. Leo continued before Darius could respond. "I know an apology alone isn’t enough. That’s why I’m asking you directly. Please tell me what you want, Your Highness. What do I need to do for you to let this matter end here? What will it take to appease you?"

Darius studied Leo for a long moment. Then he slowly uncrossed his legs. He reached for the bottle on the table, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and lazily swirled the amber liquid. The ice clicked softly against the crystal.

Across from him, Leo’s eyes followed every movement. He watched as Darius lifted the glass. Then watched him empty it in a single swallow. The entire glass disappeared down his throat as though it were water.

The burn barely seemed to register.

Darius set the empty glass back on the table with a soft tap before lifting his gaze and looking straight into Leo’s eyes. A smile curved his lips.

"I want the Wild Hounds."