Page 66 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
"You threw her away," I correct, my voice cold as winter. "You broke her heart because you were too weak to stand up to a little pressure from daddy. Some love that was."
He flinches. The truth is often the cruelest weapon of all.
"You forced me to break up with her!" he shouts, taking a step into the room. "You threatened to destroy my life if I didn't!"
"And you folded like a house of cards," I point out with cruel satisfaction. "A real man would have told me to go to hell and fought for what he wanted."
"I was twenty-five!" Aaron's voice cracks. "You're my father!"
"Which is why I know exactly how weak you are." I pull out my phone, scrolling to Patrick's contact with deliberate slowness. "You made poor choices," I continue conversationally. "As you're doing now."
I cut him off by putting the phone to my ear. "Patrick? Yes, we have a situation at the cabin. My son has decided to become a problem that needs... permanent resolution."
The effect is immediate and exactly what I intended. Aaron goes completely still, his face draining of what little color remained. Kyra's sharp intake of breath tells me she's starting to understand the true scope of what she's committed herself to.
"No problem," Patrick's voice comes through clearly, professional and calm. "I'll be there in ten minutes with a cleanup crew."
"Make it five," I say, watching Aaron's growing terror with satisfaction. "And Patrick? Bring the tools. All of them."
I end the call and slip the phone back into my pocket with casual ease.
"You're insane," Aaron whispers, backing toward the door. "You're actually going to—"
"I'm going to protect what's mine," I correct. "By any means necessary. You should have stayed away, son. Should have accepted that you lost and moved on with your pathetic little life."
"I'm calling the police," he says, fumbling for his own phone with shaking hands.
"With what signal?" I ask with amusement. "Did you forget where we are? And even if you could reach them, what exactly would you tell them? That your father is engaged to your ex-girlfriend? That you broke into his property and threatened his fiancée?"
The realization that he's completely trapped, completely helpless, transforms his expression from desperation to something approaching real terror.
"Besides," I continue conversationally, "I have several friends in law enforcement. Very good friends who understand the importance of family privacy. They'd be far more likely to arrest you for trespassing than to investigate any wild accusations you might make."
"Kyra," he pleads, turning to her one last time. "Please. You have to see what he is. You have to understand—"
"I understand that he loves me," she says, and there's steel in her voice now. "I understand that he's willing to do whatever it takes to protect me. Can you say the same?"
We all know the answer. When I threatened him, he folded immediately. When pressure was applied, he crumbled. He's never fought for anything in his entire privileged life.
The sound of vehicles approaching through the snow cuts through the tension. Right on time. Patrick is nothing if not efficient.
"Ah," I say with satisfaction. "The cavalry arrives."
Car doors slam outside, followed by the sound of multiple sets of heavy footsteps on the porch. These aren't the polite, measured steps of dinner guests. These are the movements of men who handle problems for a living.
"Victor!" Patrick's voice calls from outside. "We're here!"
"Coming!" I call back, then turn to Aaron with cold finality. "Last chance to leave quietly and never come back."
"I'm not leaving without her," he says, trying to summon courage from somewhere.
"Then you're not leaving at all."
I start toward the door, but Kyra's voice stops me.
"Wait," she says, and there's something in her tone that makes me pause. "What are you going to do to him?"
"What needs to be done," I reply simply. "He knows too much, he's seen too much, and he's clearly not going to accept the new reality. Men like Patrick deal with problems like that very efficiently."
