Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I recoil away from Daddy. Both men stare at me: Daddy with a strange desperation like he needs for me to believe this more than anything in the world and Stephen with a strange amusement.
“That can’t be true,” I say, finally finding my voice. “Carmine ratted out Daddy? He wouldn’t do that. He’s in the—” I stop myself there, but the men know what I mean.
Stephen laughs. “You think honor means a damn thing to a man like Carmine? He’d rat on his own mother if it meant making his family stronger. That man is clever and he’s working a few steps ahead, and I think it was always his intention to swoop in and save Rowe Oil the moment its stock began to plunge. Imagine his delight when the entire family was nearly wiped out because of your father’s aggressive and unconventional investment style.”
“You stole all our money,” I say, staring at Daddy. “You did that.”
“But it was working,” he says on the edge of pleading. “It would’ve worked if it weren’t for Carmine. He found out that I was weak and he destroyed me, all because he wants the damn company. All because—”
But I don’t hear him anymore. He keeps talking but it’s like I’ve fallen down into a deep well and I’m staring out from the bottom. My ears feel like they’re filled with cotton balls and a whooshing sound blows through my head.
I pull my arm from Daddy and stand, stumbling away. Both men watch me, but they don’t follow. I lean against the wall and hold myself there, breathing hard, feeling like I might heave my breakfast onto the tile floor and only barely keep myself together.
It wasn’t for the company.
Carmine could’ve invested the old-fashioned way if that’s all he wanted. True, he got his shares for a crazy good price, and that investment will pay out in multiples over the next few years barring anything wild, but the risk he took to make all that happen wouldn’t have been worth the modest increase in profit.
No, he did it for another reason.
He did it for me.
I think back to the baseball game. To the way he rubbed my face in the dirt. Then forward again, to his kiss, his lips and tongue, his body on mine. He took my virginity, he fucked me on the piano, he left a smear of my blood and his cum on the black lacquered wood, he did that and he practically shoved my face in it, and now I know he’s been fucking with me and my family from the start.
This goes back to him.
Back to Carmine.
That’s why he’s obsessed with making me his filthy girl. He’s a psychopath and he wants to ruin me. This is some sick, insane game for him, probably something he started back in college and now can’t stop, and if I let him, he’ll keep on dragging me down and down and down into the muck and I’ll lose myself in his grip.
I feel sick. I feel sullied. I want to cry but I can’t bring myself to find the tears right now. It’s like I’m breaking in half and nobody can see it.
I pull out my phone and scroll to his number with shaking hands.
He answers on the second ring. “Brice. Where are you?”
“Is it true?” I whisper and sweat drips down my forehead.
“Is what true? What did your father tell you?” He sounds desperate.
Exactly how a guilty person would sound.
“Were you the one that leaked those documents to the FBI? Were you the one that got my father arrested? Did you start all this, Carmine?”
He’s quiet and each second of silence, each beat of my heart into that quiet void, is like a painful eternity. Finally, when he talks again, he sounds like someone’s strangling him from behind.
“We can talk about this, Brice. Walk away from your father. Go back to the house. Tell Angelo—”
“You did it,” I say and sink down to the floor, knees pulled up to my chest. “You really did it.” I don’t care who’s staring at me right now or what I look like. Tears streak down my face.
I thought we had something.
Something new, something budding—but something good. I gave myself to him. I let him have my body in a way I’ve never trusted anyone, and now I feel disgusting.
Just like he wanted.
“Brice—”
“I hate you.” The words come out like bile. “I hate you, Carmine Scavo. You ruined my life and I almost let you ruin me—” I choke off, sobbing once. He probably loves hearing me cry right now, the piece of garbage, he’s probably getting off on this and, god, I’m so stupid to ever have trusted Carmine.
“Just let me explain. Go back home, Brice, please.” He’s begging but it isn’t enough. The damage is already done. He’s the damage, and I’m finished.