Page 72 of Poison Vows

Hearing the ill-concealed anger in his voice, I decide to temper it some more.

“Why didn’t you?” I ask nonchalantly, not bothering to turn around to look at the old man in the wheelchair behind me. “When your own daughter strangely disappeared, you did nothing. When your wife was murdered, you did nothing. Areyou jealous because I did something you’ve never had the guts to do?”

A loud thud sounds behind me.

I sigh and then turn around, only to see the livid expression on Grandfather’s face.

“How dare you?” he demands, anger lighting his eyes. “You know nothing of the matters you speak of!”

I actually do know the depth of this man’s ruthlessness, especially after what happened to my grandmother, but he can’t know that I know.

“You’ve grown daring and insolent lately with no respect for me at all!” he snaps.

I almost laugh.

I’ve never had any respect for this man.

Not when my mother was around, crying herself to sleep in fear of this man, and certainly not since she’s been gone.

“Does my behavior make you angry?” I ask instead, keeping my voice soft and calm.

“You—”

“If you’re angry, I can always lie and pretend like I adore you and worship the ground your two little hot wheels roll on if it’ll make you feel better.”

I watch him pound another fist on the arm of his wheelchair again with a grin.

I had a bit of fear for this man when I was a kid.

He’d stand towering over me, and all I could do was look up, fighting hard not to tremble, not to pass out, nor to make a sound that would show my fear.

He’d look down at me and demand that I prove my worth as the heir.

And that’s all I’ve been doing since then. He should be proud of me.

“You’ve really turned into something, Alessio,” Grandfather says angrily, referring to me by my Italian name. “Are you not happy with my decisions? Didn’t I help you today?”

“Which decisions? The enmity between Vaughn and I?” I stare at him. “Making Vaughn and I rivals was always your strategy. I expected there’d be a day it all comes to a head.” I pretend to mull it over. “Or do you mean the thing with your little candidate? Enlisting his unwanted so-called daughter as your pawn?”

Grandfather suddenly smiles, but it looks creepy, the same way a crow does in the dead of winter.

“A neat move, wasn’t it?” he says calmly, his facial expression dissolving back into impassivity. “It took years to find your one pressure point.”

“Years? How capable of you,” I mock.

“It took that long only because the girl disappeared from that little town, otherwise I would’ve found her sooner. She came back and made everything easier,” he says, watching me. “I should reward her for that. Had she not come back, I would’ve failed.”

The blood in my veins starts simmering with each word he utters.

“Should I be thanking you?” I seethe, not bothering to hide my displeasure.

“Thanking me? You should be listening to me!” Grandfather snarls. “Not only is the girl yours, but putting the decision in her hands means you already have this in the bag, isn’t that already good for you in this battle to my throne?”

I stare at him.

How long has this decrepit cripple known about Angel?

From the way he’s looking at me and what he just said, it seems he knows how close Angel is to me and the reason why.

---