Five Brutal Kings 5

The music thumped softly in the background, the rhythmic hum of conversation filling the dimly lit club. The mix of faint scent of whiskey and expensive cologne filled the air.

"You still haven't told us what's on your mind," Samuel said, stepping up to Clinton, arms crossed. His voice was light, but his gaze was sharp.

Clinton didn't answer. He sat at the table, eyes locked on the amber liquid in his glass, swirling it absentmindedly.

"Dude, what's wrong? You've been quiet this whole time," David added, leaning against the snooker table.

They had picked him up from his family's estate, expecting him to have stories to tell—complaints about his overbearing mother, his father's expectations, or maybe even a funny remark about his sisters. But instead, he had barely spoken. In the car, he had sighed more times than he had answered their questions.

Now, in the club's private lounge, they waited for him to snap out of it.

David turned back to his game, but his focus was half-hearted. Playing against Harrison was pointless anyway. Harrison had an almost unnatural talent for the game. Daniel once joked that he should ditch his family's business empire and open a snooker gambling hall.

"You'd make millions," Daniel had laughed. "Way more fun than sitting behind a desk all day."

Harrison had smirked, landing three consecutive shots without breaking a sweat. "Yeah, and my father would drop dead. He's poured too much into my future. If I ever walk away from the family business, he'd lose his mind."

Daniel, an only child himself, had nodded knowingly. "Yeah… parents have a way of deciding your future for you."

Tonight was supposed to be about unwinding—about discussing Clinton's recent land sightseeing and celebrating their last few days of holiday before school responsibilities kicked in again. Daniel had even rented out the space for the evening, hoping Clinton wouldn't run off this time like he did last week.

But Clinton's silence was unsettling.

David sighed, finally giving up on the game. He shook Harrison's hand in mock defeat. "You're a freak of nature," he admitted.

"I know." Harrison smirked.

David returned to the table just as Daniel clapped, impressed by yet another flawless shot from Harrison.

"How do you keep doing this?" Daniel asked, exasperated.

Harrison grinned. "Talent."

Daniel pointed his cue at him. "Trust me, if this were a different game, you'd be the one losing."

Clinton's voice suddenly cut through the easy banter.

"I made out with my family's cleaner."

The air shifted.

David nearly choked on his drink. Samuel sucked in a breath. Harrison abandoned his next shot.

"What?" Daniel blurted out, blinking.

"Wait… was she, like, really old?"

Clinton shot him a sharp glare. "No, idiot. She's young. And beautiful."

A short silence.

Samuel chuckled, shaking his head. "Damn. That's… something."

"Did you at least use protection?" Samuel added, leaning back in his chair.

Clinton ran a hand down his face. "That's the issue. It happened so fast. I wasn't thinking." He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the glass. "The next morning, she was gone. And… she was a virgin."

The words hung in the air like smoke.

David rubbed his temples. "Christ."

"At least you don't have to worry about STDs," Daniel muttered, reaching for his drink.

Samuel rolled his eyes. "Dan, shut up. That's not the point. If she gets pregnant—"

"She won't," Clinton cut in. His voice was firm, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his eyes.

David leaned forward. "Dude… you know who she is, right?"

Clinton hesitated. "She's the gatekeeper's daughter."

Silence.

Samuel whistled low. "Ronald's kid?"

Clinton nodded.

Daniel leaned back, eyes wide. "I didn't even know Ronald had a daughter."

"Neither did I," Clinton admitted. "Until my mother mentioned her this morning at breakfast."

Harrison exhaled, shaking his head. "Man, if your family finds out… this is going to blow up."

Samuel, however, seemed unfazed. He twirled his glass between his fingers, voice casual. "Look, she wanted it, right?"

Clinton's jaw tensed.

Samuel shrugged. "Then, that's it. No need to overthink. It was just a one-time thing."

David, however, wasn't amused. He leaned in, his expression serious. "You sound like a complete asshole, you know that?"

Clinton groaned, rubbing his temples. "Look, I can't have a kid with her. She's… not my type. Too loose."

Samuel raised his glass in a toast. "That's the spirit."

Clinton clinked his glass against Samuel's, forcing a grin. But the alcohol wasn't doing much to dull the unease creeping up his spine.

David, watching the exchange, grabbed Clinton's wrist before he could take another sip. "That's enough, man."

Clinton frowned. "Relax."

"You need to sober up before this turns into a disaster," David insisted, sliding the whiskey bottle out of reach.

Clinton scoffed. "Waiter!" he called out, his voice cutting through the lounge.

Daniel groaned. "Clint, stop."

A young waiter approached hesitantly, eyeing the group of wealthy young men. He bent to retrieve a glass that had rolled onto the floor, his movements careful.

"Another drink?" he asked.

"Yes," Clinton said.

"No, we're fine," Daniel interjected, dismissing the boy with a wave.

The waiter hesitated.

"If you don't bring me my drink, I promise you'll get fired," Clinton said coldly.

David groaned. "He's drunk," he muttered, rubbing his face.

The waiter let out a quiet sigh. After a brief pause, he nodded. "I'll get your drink, sir."

But as he turned to leave, Clinton sneered.

"Wait. Why is your hair pink?"

The boy froze.

Clinton tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Looks ridiculous," he muttered. "Feminine boy."

The waiter straightened slightly, his expression unreadable. "I like it this way, sir."

Samuel sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Don't mind him. He's wasted."

Clinton scoffed. "Terrible taste."

David, tired of the scene, grabbed Clinton's arm. "We're leaving."

Clinton shrugged him off and, with a lazy grin, grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle. Before anyone could react, he tilted it forward, spilling the liquor onto the waiter's shoes.

David exhaled sharply.

The waiter flinched but didn't react.

Clinton smirked. "Clean it up."

The bottle landed on the carpet with a soft thud.

Without another word, Samuel and Harrison grabbed Clinton's arms, leading him toward the exit. Daniel and David exchanged a look before following.

Meanwhile…

Tasha stood in front of her mirror, fingers brushing over her flushed cheeks.

She should be happy.

Or maybe ashamed.

She touched her collarbone, her mind replaying the night before.

Slipping out of his bed at dawn, dressing quietly, tiptoeing out before anyone woke. The warmth of his body had lingered on her skin, but something in her chest felt… off.

Her hand drifted to her abdomen. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

It had hurt.

But it had also felt worth it.

A memory she would never forget.