Page 54 of Violent Possession
“In the end, it’s all about a fucking daddy issue.”
He lets out a laugh.
“You’re unbelievably insolent,” he says, but there’s no threat in his voice.
This man lies to his entire family like it’s child’s play, but with me... I swear it sounds honest. He’s not tense like he was in front of Vania; in fact, there’s a strange lightness. I understand, at some point, all the paranoia about the cameras, but this—this honesty—is hard to connect with the man who priced me and put me in a monitored cage.
Which version is real? The manipulator or the resentful son?
Maybe both. Maybe they’re the same person.
“You should use the name Alex more,” I say.
He glances at me. “No one calls me that.”
“Alexei is the name of the perfect and brilliant son. Alex suits this rotten side of yours better.”
I see the slow, minimal, almost invisible smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth.
I watch him drive as we enter the underground parking lot. The emergency lights flash across his face, creating shadows and revealing angles I hadn’t noticed before.
His honesty. That’s what screws me up.
At dinner. In this car. An ugly, bitter honesty about the wound at the center of his life.
It screws me up because it humanizes him for me. It makes him real.
He’s handsome. I had never allowed myself to think that before. Not really. But now, without the mask of absolute control... fuck, he’s handsome. It’s a cold, sharp, dangerous beauty. The kind of beauty that cuts you if you get too close. And yet, I want to see it. Knowing exactly what will happen, I want to see what happens when I get too close.
The car stops in an isolated spot at the back of the parking lot.
“Good night, Griffin,” he says.
He looks at me. I’m supposed to get out of the car now. But I don’t move.
“Do you think your escort would mind if you came up with me, boss?” I say. I remember what he said at dinner. He watched me fuck the prostitute. And he’s been looking at me like that from the beginning. I give him a smile. “I promise the lighting is better today.”
He turns off the car. The hum of the engine dies.
Alexei stares at me, and some kind of dangerous amusement appears in his eyes. A condescending smile touches his lips.
“I thought I’d have to wait for another pathetic show for the cameras.”
“Pathetic?” I laugh. “I thought you liked the show, boss. Didn’t you watch it all the way through?”
“Themethodwas pathetic,” Alexei corrects. “Using a stranger as an intermediary is inefficient. If you want my attention, Griffin, there are more direct ways to get it.”
He’s criticizing me and, at the same time, inviting me. “I just wanted to piss you off,” I retort with a half-smile. “But what would be the direct way, Alexei? If I wanted... should I fill out a form?”
His smile widens. He unbuckles his seatbelt. His hands...
“No,” he says. His scent, his presence... “You would just have to ask.”
I stare at him. The fucked-up honesty from dinner is still here.
“You say this shit and expect me to believe you’re not hitting on me?”
Alexei doesn’t deny it. “I’m being direct.”
