Page 129 of Chad's Chase
Compressing his lips at our silence, Org carefully picked up his teacup and leaned back in the chair. He took a hot sip, flicked his eyes down at the cup, then up at Chad. “Your father was a sorry excuse for a man. And your mother was a worthless delinquent. I know what you did the other day. You toyed with my emotions to get me to admit I cared about you. I realize you like to make people’s minds your playing field. You are good at it. I commend you. But if you wanted to know, all you had to do was ask.”
With a pensive pause, he took another sip of his tea, then went on, “You never asked, but I will tell you: The moment Isabel began calling you son, Shadreek, I did, too. Whatever she loved, I loved. And she loved you. You do not know this, but she favored you over Ricardo. Isabel thought Ricardo was lazy and reluctant and wanted to be babied in everything. But you, you liked to take control, you liked to learn, you liked to lead. And shelovedthat.”
Another slow, drawn-out sip of coffee. “I have followed your life through and through ever since you left Russia. How do you suppose your men detected those assassins Rafail continually sent to snipe you? No matter how much training you and your men have, nobody is good enough to stop one dozen different assassins in their tracks. It was I,” he apprised. “I am the one who always tipped your contacts off with time and location.”—I could feel the change in Chad’s heartbeat at this revelation, but outwardly he remained stoic—”I have always been with you, Shadreek. You just did not know. One, because you are everything my own son was not. He was a disappointment, and I wished you were my own. And two, because I knew if my daughter was still alive”—he fixed his green gaze on me—”one day, wherever you were in this world, shewouldfind you, and I would finally find her.”
Nothing.
No words. From me or Chad. This man, Org, was so confusing. So…strange.
Seemingly annoyed with our continued silence, Org put his teacup down, pushed his chair back, and stood up, buttoning his suit jacket.
That was the first I’d ever laid eyes on the man. My father. He had my eyes, exact almond shape, exact color, so I knew it wasn’t fiction that he was my real father. He was tall, though. Taller than Rafail, taller than Chad. Slender, wiry, but not to be thought of as weak.
He had long, silver hair, like a wizard. But instead of looking like an old bastard, the white hair kind of made him handsome, like he was from the Targaryen lineage. His all-black suit was sharp, expensive, without a crease.
I must point out that he’d pointedly avoided me since we came in. Maybe he was still sulking about what I’d said about acknowledging only Michael Byrd as my father. Taking it to heart.
“We are no test for each other, Shadreek. Apparently neither of us can outsmart the other, and that is why I want you by my side,” he said, pressing the tips of his long fingers on the top of the chair. “Just like you knew my plans, knew my game, I knew yours. So I know you want my daughter to inherit my seat. I will not fight you on it. I will not rule her name out as the inheritor. Both of you will be at the top of the table, so when the time comes—as I am not sure if I will step down five years from now, or have a heart attack tomorrow—you may figure things out yourselves.”
He picked up his laptop and tucked it under his arm. “Until then, I will speak only with you, Shadreek. My daughter has denied me the chance to be her father. Therefore, she may not speak to me directly. She may not come into my presence without your escort. She may not—”
“Can’t be serious,” I muttered. Then I said aloud, “I’m right here you know, asshole.”
Taking a deep, impatient breath, Org kept his eyes on Chad. “I expect a key to this building first thing tomorrow. If I have to break in again, I will level this place to the ground.”
Then he walked off to the elevator.
That’s it? I find out this man is my father and that’s how he behaves? Like a fucking pre-schooler because I said one simple thing out of anger?
“Are you just going to—” I started to say, springing up from Chad’s lap.
But Chad gripped my arm and tugged me back down. “Breathe easy, Jhay.”
“No!” I said, trying to get back up. “He’s acting like a snotty-nosed child whose ice cream fell off its cone.”
Shaking from a chuckle, Chad kissed my neck, soothing me instantly. “I used to think he was a cold, emotionless bastard. But now I’m convinced he has more humanity in him than all of us put together. He loves you, that’s why he’s hurt. Give him some time, he’ll get over his bruised ego.”
Taking his word for it, mainly because his lips and searing breath on my neck were muddling my head, I shifted on his lap and straddled him. In one smooth go, I pulled my blouse over my head and dropped it to the floor.
I leaned in to touch my lips to his, but he flattened a palm to my chest to stop me, his face all too serious for my liking.
“What?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, only watched me with those daunting black eyes of his, expression unreadable, lips firmly pressed together. He was beginning to scare me.
“Chad,” I whispered, searching his face, “what is it?”
“You know I’m going to marry you, right?”
Folding my lips, I tried to keep in my laugh, but couldn’t help it and guffawed in his face at the ridiculousness of that concept. “Yeah, sure.”
Seemingly offended, his face grew grave. “This means no, then,” he said, not asking a question.
“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand, “you wereserious? With the lives we’re destined to lead, you really expect us to get married and have 2.5 kids like we’re normal people?”
“Why not?”
Utterly astounded, I gaped at him. “Chad, your own father tried tokillyou. My fake father died from a bullet to the head because his wife was a cheating, deceitful killer who was hardly ever at home for her kids. My real father, a puissant kingpin, just said I couldn’t talk to him directly or stand in his presence without you there. We are products of all that. Murderers. Liars. Monsters. What kind of parents do you think we’ll be?”
