Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Chapter 8
Marco
Two Years Later
“Who the fuck do you think you are, making deals behind my back?” my father growls. His fist plows into my ribs. The ribs have been hammered, but dear ole’ father’s fist isn’t what has delivered the damage. I know there are a few cracked, broken, or hell, whatever is worse than that. No, the damage came from my brothers, Aden and Atlas. They showed up before I got out of bed at three in the morning. I fought them off and definitely did my fair amount of damage on them. I was pretty sure I could have taken them, but I should have learned my brothers don’t play fair. Atlas, slammed me over the head with a baseball bat from behind. Before I could figure anything out, the world went black. I only know what it was because I came to, chained, hanging from the ceiling and each of them taking turns hitting me with the bat. They targeted my ribs, my stomach—shit, anywhere they could.
Then, an hour or so later, my father showed up to take over. Honestly, it could have been longer. Time holds no meaning when you’re pretty sure you’re going to die. Shit, I welcome death. I’m ready to give up at this point. I had this big plan, and it was supposed to be in place six months ago. Tomorrow I was to take my fiancée away for the weekend and finally start living my life. Instead, my major ally dicked me around and I’ve been scrambling to find support to overthrow my father. I thought I found it in Toban Cirillo. Cirilo wanted to see my father dead, almost as much as I did—or at least I thought. He was sending the men and I was providing the firepower. I had a deal brokered that would fill the Stratakis bank accounts if I was at the helm of them. Cirillo wanted a cut. I was going to give it to him. It seemed like a great plan—until it all went to shit. Someone sold me out. I don’t know who, but I’m thinking Cirillo double crossed me. I may or may not live long enough to find out.
“My son! My own blood. I had you as my second. I was poised to give you the world and you think you can stab me in the back!” he roars. My head falls down. It’s partly because I’m running out of strength to hold it up, but it’s also because I’m sick of looking at his face.
“Answer me!” he growls.
I remain silent.
“Maybe you’ve addled his brains with your blows,” he rumbles, looking at Atlas.
It’s a tossup as to if Atlas is meaner than Aden or if it is the other way around. All I know is that they have hearts as dark as the night—if they even have a heart.
And that’s a big if.
I keep my head lolling and looking down. If I’m to die here, so be it. I would rather not see it coming and there’s no way I can fight it since I’m chained. At least Melina will turn twenty-one soon. Sebastian and Gio will look out for her until then. Elias keeps to himself, but I think he will watch out for her too. My only regret is Helena. If I had known my goal would end in failure, I would have tasted her, I would have spoiled her and enjoyed every second of it. I suppose things are better this way. She will find a man who will give her what she needs.
The thought is bittersweet, but I push away the burn it causes. Things are as they are. It’s not like I can change them. I’ve never been able to change them.
“It doesn’t matter, father. Are you killing him?”
“No. He did no less than I would have done in his shoes. Still, he must learn he can’t fuck me over. He has his place. He just needs to learn it.”
“What do we do?” This time it’s Aden who asks.
“Leave him chained. We will remind him of what happens when he displeases me. It’s been a while since he has felt the sting of the whip.”
“I think you should brand him,” Atlas counters, yet another reminder that he is as rotten as my father.
“The idea has merit, but with Marco, it’s never about him. It’s about the things he cares about.” My father draws out his words as if he’s thinking it over. My muscles tighten. I want to respond, to scream at him to just finish me off already. It’s useless though, I can’t even find the energy to hold my fucking head up. I manage a grunt. A fucking grunt. That’s all I have in me.
“Melina?” Aden says with a laugh. “He’s so protective over her. I can’t figure it out. She’s useless.”