It Breaks Me (Betrayal #2) Read Online Penelope Sky

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Betrayal Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“I can’t betray him. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t lie to Axel. I couldn’t bed him at night then plot against him in the morning. I couldn’t turn my back on him when there was this…connection between us. It was always there, no matter what we went through—unconditional.

My father was quiet for a long time.

I stared at my glass of wine and waited for him to speak. The tension was suffocating. His back remained turned to me as he shut me out of his thoughts. “I ask that you drop this.”

He gave a heavy sigh.

I knew my words would anger him, but I said them anyway. “I care for him.” I cared for him deeply…madly.

My father never spoke.

“Please don’t be mad at me⁠—”

“I’m not angry.” He turned back to me, his hands moving into his pockets, his stare cold but his voice normal. “Just disappointed.” He slowly walked over to me. “I raised you to be smarter than this, wiser than this.” He dropped back into the chair across from me. “A day will come when he’ll betray you again—and you’ll know that I was right. But for now…I accept your decision.” He grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass, pouring far too much. Then he took a drink, his throat shifting as he downed it like water. When he returned the glass to the table, his movements were so sloppy he almost knocked the bottle over.

I didn’t want to end the conversation like this, not when I felt his seething anger like flames from a fireplace. “How are things with the Colombians?”

He grabbed his glass again and took another drink, drinking more in a single sitting than I’d ever seen before. He set the empty glass on the coffee table between us. “I have a meeting with them in—” he pushed back the sleeve of his jacket to look at his watch “—in twenty minutes.”

“They’re here?”

“Yes.” It took him a while to make eye contact with me, like he dreaded the moment our stares realigned. “Axel told me he wouldn’t accept their initial proposal, so I need to negotiate. Your husband and I don’t see eye to eye on this issue.”

“What was his counter?”

“Two and a half percent and their initial fee.”

“That’s a lot less than ten percent.”

“They want to be considered a partner, and since it’s their product we’re selling, I think it’s reasonable. I’m not one to pay more than I have to, but I think it’s worth keeping the peace. The Colombians do things differently.”

“Where are you meeting them?”

“At the facility.”

“Should I tag along?” I asked. “I’ve always been good at negotiating.”

“Not a bad idea,” he said. “Men are usually on their best behavior when there’s a woman in the room.” He grabbed the bottle to pour another glass.

“Dad.” I steadied his hand and gently redirected him to the table. “You’ve had two glasses of wine in five minutes. Let’s take a break.”

His fingers continued to grip the neck of the bottle, and for a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t let go. But after a breath, he finally relaxed his fingers and released the bottle. “I apologize, sweetheart. Wine has always been my weakness.” He straightened and flashed me a smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “We should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

The production facility looked abandoned from the outside, because if it was in full operation in the middle of the night, it would raise some eyebrows and draw attention from the wrong people. But once you walked through the door, the warmth from the heaters struck you and the lights made you squint.

We headed downstairs to where the lab was situated, and the lab technicians and chemists were there working, making batches around the clock just to meet our quota for the week.

We moved farther down the hallway into a private room and took a seat. Old carpet was on the floor, and the table was one of those cheap ones stocked in break rooms. The counter held a microwave and an old coffeemaker.

My father took a seat and automatically lifted his sleeve to check the time. Then he pulled out his phone and started texting or typing emails.

I could still feel the tension between us. My father was distant with his silence. He had a bit of that same haze Axel had had over the weekend, like he’d had too much to drink but his mind continued to fight it.

It was cold in the back room, so I cinched the tie of my coat to keep it tight around my body.

Minutes passed, and then voices were audible, uproarious laughter and booming tones, like they were about to head to a party rather than an important meeting. Their footsteps grew louder, and then the guys entered, wearing long-sleeved shirts and hoodies, some of them with tattoos on their faces.


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