Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 624(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 624(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
I would say that our rocky association was a love lost since he’d been my father’s oldest friend, but I never felt close to him even when I was just a kid. Theo had been the one who was like a second father to me.
It was all so fucked up.
“My father would want me to be smart. This isn’t some random person off the street or even a rival. She was family.”
“And now she’s just the daughter of your father’s murderer. Don’t forget that.”
“I haven’t,” I pushed through clenched teeth.
“We’ll see.”
Fucking A…
I’m going to kill this prick.
“Once she makes a move, I will take her. Not. Before.” I leaned forward and locked gazes. “And I won’t hesitate.”
“Good.” He chomped on another grape. I considered filling his airway with the entire bowl and watching him choke to death.
“I came here because I need information, some kind of leverage over her. I was hoping you might have something. I can see that I’m wasting my time.” I stood to leave.
“Wait.” I ignored him and moved for the exit. “Son.”
I froze and counted to five so I wouldn’t remind him that while he may have married my mom, I would never be his son. I’d seen what having a father like Victor would eventually do. Eliana Castro was a gold digging bitch with scales like her father. Not only that. Once upon a time, Victor entertained the idea of me marrying his daughter. My father refused the idea of an arranged marriage, which put an invisible strain on their relationship.
“I was out of line. Your father would be proud of you.”
I wasn’t surprised by his quickness to apologize. Victor had always gone out of his way to stay in my good graces, even if it meant ignoring his own daughter.
Victor looked up expectantly. He waited for me to accept his apology.
Not going to happen.
“I didn’t come here to talk about my father.” I’d never be comfortable with a man who would sleep with his friend’s wife before his body was even cold in the ground.
“I’m sorry for that, too.” An uncomfortable silence followed another apology I wouldn’t accept. “Look, Ross’s kid needs to be dealt with. If she was after anything, it would have to be the book.”
It didn’t add up.
None of it did.
“How would she know the combination to the safe?”
“Your father trusted Theo—more than anyone.” He grunted. My gaze narrowed on his face. Was the resentment I just witnessed real or imagined? The hard glint in his eyes was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“And?”
“And it’s possible Theo relayed this information to his daughter.”
“For what reason?” I grilled even though I’d already considered the possibility. “He’s locked up, and Mian is no thief.”
“Are you sure about that? She got into your father’s estate, didn’t she? He’d obviously taught her enough. He could have groomed her just as your father intended to groom you.”
“Impossible. The last thing Theo wanted was for his kid to follow in his footsteps. He did everything he could to keep her interest at bay.”
“Impressionists are good at making you see only what you wish, too.”
The wheels controlling reason turned furiously. My mind raced to find another explanation. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t always have to make sense to be the truth. Your father was powerful, but he was also feared. That book—your family’s legacy— was the key to Chicago. He owned it, possessed it, and controlled it. Whoever controls it, takes the city… and any city of their choosing.”
“She’s not some aspiring crime lord.”
“But what she needs is money, I imagine. She’s a young, single mother in a dangerous city. With her father’s guidance, she could sell it to the right buyer. I didn’t hear anything after that.
She’s a young, single mother…
Single mother…
Mother…
Mian had a kid?
Rage, pain, and jealousy—each fightingfor dominance.
She had a fucking kid.
Even when jealousy still questioned how it could even be possible, my conscience had already accepted the fault.
I. Let. Her. Go.
When her father murdered mine, I made myself forget her. I beat my heart black and blue until I was convinced she had never been.
I’d known she’d always choose him over me, so I made her pay for her father’s betrayal by forgetting.
“How old is the kid?” I choked. It was clear he had been keeping tabs.
“Not even a year old. The kid’s date of birth escapes me.” He fluttered his fingers as if it was of little importance. Perhaps to a man who’d never fantasized about the day he’d own her mind, body, and soul, it was a blip.
But to a man who possessed those thoughts every single day for six fucking years…
I was nothing other than tormented.
Was she married?
Were they a happy fucking family?
No.
She was too young.
Damn it. She wasmine.
“Use the boy.”
I blinked to clear the fog telling me to murder. “Come again?”