God of Ruin (Legacy of Gods #4) by Rina Kent

His face is fucked up with a rainbow of colors, but he’s wearing a spotless dress shirt, pressed black trousers, and premium Italian shoes.

Despite the disadvantage of his bruises and the bandage that peeks from the cuff of his shirt and slithers to the back of his hand, he smiles like a respectable gentleman.

Or more like someone who was either taught or learned the specific ways to act like the perfect socially-accepted man.

He stares behind me and my wife and his grin widens as he mouths, “Surprise.”

Mia, who’s accompanied by a frowning Maya, walks carefully toward him, eyes bemused but cheeks tinted in red.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the first time I’ve ever seen my youngest daughter blush.

“What are you doing here?” she signs.

“I figured since you were going home, I’d join you and introduce myself. I’m a bit late since my grandfather’s private jet took longer than expected to arrive at the island. Please accept my sincerest apologies for my sudden appearance at your door, Mr. Hunter and Mrs. Sokolov. I wanted to surprise Mia.”

“Not sure if it’s a welcome surprise,” Maya mutters under her breath, then when Mia elbows her, she groans. “Fine, fine, maybe it’s like a tiny bit welcome.”

“Thanks, Maya.” He smiles with no humor whatsoever. “I’m glad you could welcome me.”

Rai ushers him inside. “Don’t just stand there. Come in.”

“You mentioned a grandfather,” I say, trying not to strangle the fucker and throw him to coyotes. “Judging by your last name, could that by any chance be Jonathan King?”

“The one and only.” He walks inside my fucking house between Rai and Mia as if he’s been here countless times. “I know Grandpa has a reputation that stretches around the globe, but I didn’t realize it would reach you as well. Have you dealt with him in business matters?”

“You could say that.”

Now, it makes sense why I found his face, brutalized as it is, exceptionally familiar. Of course Jonathan’s grandchild shares his absolutely domineering and highly irritating personality.

“What happened there?” I motion at the bruises.

“A little incident caused by your son, but we’ve put that disagreement behind us. At least, I did. Not sure about Nikolai.”

I raised my son right. He was born for destruction and has no limits regarding his sisters.

Note to self: Call him later to announce how severely proud I am of the methods he uses to resolve conflicts.

My wife leads Landon to the living area. “Make yourself comfortable while I go prepare some refreshments. It must’ve been a long flight.”

“Nothing is too long if I can find Mia on the other side.”

My daughter's face turns a deep shade of red. Maya rolls her eyes and Rai mutters an ‘Aww.’

Me? I’m ready to bury the motherfucker in my father’s new construction site. It’ll be brutal but discreet, and no one will hear of the name Landon King ever again.

I’m doing humanity a huge favor, if you ask me.

Maya chooses to go help Rai while I sit opposite Mia and Landon. He interlocks his fingers with hers and places them on his thigh.

I narrow my eyes at the gesture, but he completely ignores the attention and smiles at my daughter, who rewards him with one of her rare smiles.

My lips part.

It’s no secret that Mia’s smiles have been few and far between ever since the day I failed her as a parent and we almost lost her for good.

My wife and I never say this out loud, but we know, deep down, that we actually lost a huge chunk of our daughter after the kidnapping. She was never the same carefree, bright, and remarkable attention-magnet little girl she once was.

Mia lost a part of her soul and the worst part is that she refused to talk about it. Not to us or the million specialists we employed to help her find her voice again. All of them came up with the same infuriating result.

It’s psychological.

She’s shackling herself.

Unless she takes the initiative, she won’t be able to find her voice again.

So to see her act this way around Landon leaves me with a serious feeling of failure. It took us a lot of time and effort to provide Mia with a healthy, safe environment, and yet this little twat has managed to win both her trust and affection in such a small time frame.

“How long have you known my daughter?” I ask.

Still keeping his snake-like grip on her hand, he graces me with his lewd attention. “A few months, give or take.”

“And you already think you’re at a place to introduce yourself to her parents?”

“I don’t see why not.”

The audacity of this twat. He’s shameless and wears it like a badge of honor.

“Do you know who we are, son?” I say in my serious tone.

Mia catches the change in my demeanor and her face bleaches, chasing away any remnants of the earlier blushing.

Landon, however, seems perfectly content with his ride on the expressway to hell, because he says. “Naturally.”

“So you realize we’re the Russian mafia and you still aren’t scared for your life?”

“Why would I be when I haven’t done anything? Besides, you just called me son, so I take that as you welcoming me into the family.”

“You wish.”