Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
“You think I won’t?” Both my brows jump. “Look around. Who’s in charge here? Me or your cell buddy chained up just like you are?”
“Tell me what you hid.”
He screams, “I hid—”
“My son,” Rayo barks, officially shutting Otto up.
My head turns his way, and Rayo’s sharp glare locks with mine. “He hid my son for me.”
And there it fucking is, straight from the horse’s mouth.
He lets go of his lie, saying it aloud for the first fucking time in his life, unwilling to let the roach rat on him, taking control the only way he can.
To think I almost lost hope.
Rayo watches me closely, head tipping slightly. “But you already knew that.”
My smirk is slow, and I lift my arms out as if to say surprise. “I know a lot of things, dare I say … all the things you wish I didn’t, and I think I know your reasons why too.”
It makes perfect sense when you think about it. The dude preaches family fucking first. Blood over all. Always, no matter what. Blah fucking blah.
That’s the biggest piece of bullshit I’ve ever heard.
My family beat the fuck out of me, tried to kill me and nearly did kill my sister.
Fuck blood and who you share it with. Fuck family. It means nothing.
But to the Revenaw twins? It meant more because it was drilled into them.
How would they feel if they knew Daddy stepped out on Mommy when she couldn’t “do her duty” and give the man the heir he was entitled to? But more than that … he cast out his own, leaving him to the wolves when his wife finally gave him what he wanted. He abandoned his blood, so how could he preach the importance of it to his twins if they ever found out?
It’s the thought of losing his girls or their respect or love or whatever the fuck it is that’s most important to him, and only he knows what that is that kept him playing the Henshaws’ game. He’s a weird kind of selfish, selfless prick.
But it wasn’t only that. It was the foundation the new generation of Greysons was expected to sit on. He already knew the others were expecting girls; they’d be the first of their kind, and suddenly, he had two coming. Twins. The Greyson girls were expected to do big things. To leave a legacy like no one’s ever seen before, to bring to the table an entirely new way of thinking. Proof of that is already long past seven figures, thanks to The Enterprise.
To throw a boy in the mix would have changed everything for the girls. Automatically that boy would have taken the lead because he had a dick and they didn’t. The power struggle between male and female wouldn’t have died and should that male have claimed for himself one of the other Greyson girls, that would lead to the fall of the Greyson Union because the power would no longer be equal.
Again, what a selfish, selfless prick.
Shaking my head, I stuff my hands in my pockets. “You let this fool think he was in your back pocket, put your daughter through some shit, both of them really, just to keep Kylo Greco, or should I say Revenaw, a dark little secret.” A chuckle leaves me. “I tell you, once I figured it out, it made fucking sense why you didn’t want them on Greyson grounds because you knew who he was the minute they turned up. How could you not? The boy looks just fucking like you, man. Too bad he’s sworn his loyalty to me now, hmm?”
Rayo’s lip curls and I laugh again. “Kid’s fucking smart. Quick and tough.”
I walk over to Rayo, placing myself directly in front of him, close enough that he could headbutt me if he wanted to, maybe even do a little worse, depending on how flexible he is. His chains ain’t that tight, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, and he’s breathing steady as I bring myself nothing but a breath away.
We eye each other for a long moment, nothing but the nervous shifting and clatter of chains coming from the other side of the room filling the space.
Finally, I speak, keeping my voice low and only for him.
“Clearly, you’ve got a knack for giving things away, but this time? You’re trying to give away something that doesn’t belong to you,” I tell him, shaking my head back and forth. “That’s not going to work for me.”
“You are delusional.”
“And you’re about to foam at the fucking mouth when I tell you what I know that you didn’t. This man, the one you eat with on yachts and share laughs with and pretend to stand to save face … he didn’t only plan to take from you, to destroy you”—I lean closer—“he already did. He took the woman who gave mine life right out from under your nose, and I have the proof you couldn’t find. Me. The punk with not a soldier to his name.”