Page 19 of Broken Truths

Even back when I was in the old man’s good graces, I understood these things, which is why I never minded being the rebel of the family. I’m not the marrying kind, but if I were, I sure as fuck wouldn’t let anyone else touch her.

If anyone tries to touch Eden, I’ll kill them without a second thought.

“It’s nice when they’re experienced, but I kind of like the sweet girl act myself,” he continues, and I just know there’s a bunch of ridiculous schoolgirl porn on his computer. The girls that act like they’ve never been fucked when you know they’ve been fucked seven ways to Sunday, probably in every hole at the same time.

My mind drifts off, and I wonder what kind of shit my grandmother saw when she was married to this man. He must have put her through hell.

I know nothing about her. All I saw was what she wanted us to see—her perfectly poised expression; her perfectly put-together outfits. The perfect trophy wife. I don’t remember her being involved much. I don’t even remember her crying at my father’s funeral.

God, no wonder why I’m fucked up.

“You heard about Leon Forbes attempting to marry Keegan to Eden now, haven’t you?” I ask, trying to remember if I said anything to him before and chastising myself for not keeping him as updated as I could.

“I did. I’m sure she’s thrilled.”

I stare at him, wondering if he’s joking or not. “She hates the idea, actually. She told her father she won’t do it.”

Grandfather smirks. “Which would be a bad day for Astor.” He pierces Vincent with a look. “Check into Astor’s financials. If something happens, we might be able to purchase his lucrative companies.”

If something happens.Something, as in Leon calling in whatever horrible arrangement he has with Alistair. My grandfather just talks about it like he’s not discussing whether or not to buy some dead guy’s companies.

Vincent makes a note. “Anne-Marie has me deep in wedding planning, but—”

My grandfather laughs, the booming sound bouncing around the room. “Just tell her to take care of it. The only thing you need to know is what time to show up and when it is that Daddy Dearest is signing the prenup.”

Vincent straightens his shoulders. “Of course. What I meant was she keeps bothering me about it. Not even married yet, and she’s already nagging me.”

“That’s what they do,” Grandfather barks. “Nag and bitch. I learned if their mouth is filled with your cock, they can’t do it.”

My cousin smirks like he’s actually eating this shit up. Anne-Marie is spunky, so I wonder how that will work out for him, but in the same token, she knows what’s expected of her. She plays the game. I bet she outwits Vincent nine times out of ten. She may suck his dick, but I think I know who’ll be wearing the pants in that family, even if things on the outside look exactly like what Grandfather wants to see.

Grandfather sits back in his chair, his gaze tracking to the cigar he’s laid out in front of him. It’s his reward at the end of meetings. It always has been. He probably has some girl in a plaid skirt scheduled to come over already, and he’ll sit there and toke on his cigar while she gets him off with her innocent act. “You know,” Grandfather says, “I’ve actually been thinking lately that Eden Astor wouldn’t be a bad match for you, Leonardo.”

My mouth snaps shut as complete horror festers in my stomach. “Really?”

“Astor might be on his way out, anyway. We could do a coup. Take over some of his businesses in a prenup.”

He’s marrying us out like business transactions. “You never spoke about me getting married before.”

“That’s because you were always a liability, but I think she may be stupid enough to agree to it. If she was that jealous of you bringing another woman home, you might already have her on the hook.”

“What about Forbes?”

Grandfather shrugs. “That’s Astor’s problem.”

I pretend to think about it, but the only thing flipping through my brain is how I will dismember each of his fingers, then his hands, then his tongue, then his eyes if he even tries to touch her. I clear my throat. “I’m not the marrying type.”

“Son, you are an asset. That is all you are. Haven’t you learned that yet?” He peers at the spot where he carved his initials into my flesh. He owns me.

And now I’m wondering if Oliver had the right idea all along to just kidnap her ass and run away. But if I fucking do it, I’ll follow through on it, and no one will ever find us.

Fucking pussy. Couldn’t he have just finished the job in the first place? I feel like breaking his stupid fucking teapot all over again.

“Is this a done deal? Or do I get a say?”

Grandfather narrows his gaze, drumming his fingers over the dark wood of the table, and I pray he’ll pick up his cigar and end this fucking meeting. I came to get back in his good graces, but he’s already testing my loyalty again.

“Tell you what. You want a marriage? No problem. Let me think of some alternatives before we decide on one.” Grandfather quirks a brow, and I’m sure he’s trying to figure out where I’m going with this. What other motives might I have. I smirk. “I might be able to do better. You don’t like the tattoos, but chicks do.”

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