Page 29 of Black Hearts
“Is that so?” My father cocked his head, running a hand down his front, along his tie. “A pity. Everyone should get used to me, because I’m not leaving until I know Markus can handle himself like I taught him.”
“You’re an asshole.”
To my surprise, that got my father to laugh. A genuine chuckle, something so rare I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard him do it. “What a charming child you are. Tori, right? You’re Lincoln’s girl.”
“I don’t care that you’re my grandpa. You’re an asshole, and I hate you for sending Juliet away. She was my friend.”
My father slowly brought those dark eyes to me once more. “Yes, I’ve heard you two were close. I won’t apologize to you, Tori, because Juliet should never have been brought here to begin with. She belongs with her father.”
Tori launched herself at his desk, slamming both hands on the flat surface so hard the tablet shook. “She belongs here! With us!” She pointed at me. “With Uncle Markus!”
As I watched Tori stand up to my father, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of pride. A strange sense of being proud of her, even though she wasn’t my own kid. She was either oblivious to the things my father could do, or she didn’t give a shit.
Perhaps I should take a page out of her book and do the same.
My father’s expression hardened. “Your uncle should not let any woman control him or change him, and that’s exactly what happened when Juliet was here. As patriarch of this family, I could not let it continue. You would do well to forget Juliet ever existed, because you will never see her again.”
“You’re wrong,” she said. “Jaxon and the others are going to bring her back.”
He lifted a brow. “Are they, now?”
“They are,” she spoke with a nod. “And when they do, I’m going to help them kill you if you’re still here.”
Again, my father began to chuckle. A low, dark sound, but a chuckle nonetheless. He must’ve found her amusing, because if anyone else had said that to him, he’d retaliate the only way he could: he’d kill them himself. Maybe with the pen near the tablet. Whatever was nearest. Unlike me, my father didn’t care about getting blood on his suits.
“Tori,” I said, causing the girl to whirl around and bring that defiant, reckless glare to me, “leave us.”
She didn’t want to. I could tell the girl was still raring to go, ready to continue telling off my father in a way only she could. But in the end, she held back whatever it was she wanted to say, gave me a glare, and stormed out of the office.
The moment the door swung closed, my father muttered, “She is a remarkably strong-willed child, firm in her beliefs. Surprising, since she came from Lincoln, and he never seemed to give a shit about anything. Considering her bloodline, I’d assumed she’d be just as psychotic as her parents. I like her.” That was as close to a compliment anyone would ever get from him, and it was certainly more than I’d ever received.
“She speaks her truth,” I said, moving to stand before the desk.
“That she does.” My father leaned back in the chair, his hands in his lap. “I know Jaxon, William Briggs, and Bennet left to go after the Osborne girl. Did you authorize their departure?” A trick question if I ever heard one.
If I told him I did, he’d accuse me of not being loyal to him, not following his directions. If I told him I didn’t, he’d say I’d lost control of the house’s inhabitants and it would show that I needed him to be here and retake his position as the head of the estate.
So, in the end, I chose to stick to my silence, not giving him either answer.
“It doesn’t matter either way, I suppose,” he went on. “They left. They disobeyed. I took the liberty to inform Fred that they were on their way a few days ago. I wonder how he responded? He told me he’d take care of things, but—”
Hearing that, knowing it was his fault Fred had stabbed Juliet and left her to die—something that very well would’ve happened if Rave had not been put on watch—I suddenly saw red. Something inside me snapped, and I could hold back no longer.
I lunged. Right over the desk. My body lurched forward, my arms shooting out. Though a part of me knew it was wrong, knew it was a bad idea, I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. It was like my father had said the one thing that was certain to set me off, the one thing that made me more enraged than anything else in the world.
I grabbed my father by the throat, pulling his frame toward the desk. My whole body leaned over it, in a position that was pretty damned uncomfortable, and yet I didn’t care. I glared deep into my father’s eyes, glowering, practically baring my teeth at him like an animal.
And my father? He didn’t move to stop me. He let it happen, not even blinking. Those eyes, those eyes that were so much like mine, merely watched me, beholding the fury plain on my face. He didn’t seem to care that I was choking him, that I put hands on him—something I’d never done before. This was indeed a first.
“Joke’s on you,” I hissed out. “Juliet’s not dead. They got to her in time.” I squeezed his neck harder, and then I pushed him back, righting myself and trying, unsuccessfully, to calm myself down.
My father reached up to his neck, rubbing it. “Where the fuck is the Markus I know? Where is your control, son?” He stood across from me, breathing hard, though whether that was due to the choking or his own anger, I couldn’t say. “All of this, for what? For a fucking girl? I am your father—there is no choice between us! You choose me. You choose family over a cunt every fucking day of the week.”
“She’s not just a cunt,” I growled, feeling the rage continuing to build inside of me, growing so thick in my chest it was all I could feel—along with my rapidly beating heart. “She is mine. She’s been mine her entire life.” My voice dropped to a deadly whisper, “And I’m not going to let you take her from me.”
“You would throw everything away for her, then? You would rather be disowned than let her go?” He appeared disgusted, as if he truly could not understand the sentiment behind it. “You are not the son I remember. You’ve let this house and its inhabitants go without rules for far too long. You want her so fucking badly? Then go. Go fall to your knees before her—but don’t you dare come crawling back to me or this family.”
There was no point in arguing with him. Hell, I think we were both blinded by fury and our own self-righteousness that neither of us could see where the other was coming from. He cared for no one but himself and his legacy, while I cared for no one else other than Juliet. If I had to choose…
