Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I’ll give him credit for recognizing how fucking angry I am. He’s not that clueless, after all.
Like the narcissist and master manipulator he is, though, he’s clearly stumped, scrambling for a way out of this mess.
“I’ve been lenient with you,” I growl, keeping the gun at the man’s head as I stare my son down.
“This—”
“This,” I say sternly, talking over him, “is not a mistake. This is not another minor fuckup of yours. This is not a misunderstanding you can talk your way out of.”
“Dad—”
That’s what breaks me.
He stopped being my son the second he set out to harm Liliana. I’ve given him the benefit of the doubt too many times but he’s finally crossed the final line.
No one will ever threaten the woman I love.
I don’t think. I let my fury dictate my actions. I pull the gun back from the recruit’s head, and in the same swift motion I turn it on Roman. I whip him across the face, sending him reeling. The guard closest to me spins the recruit around to face me.
The stink of urine hits me first. He’s wet himself, too afraid to face me. The guard holds him up, and I leave him for later. First I deal with this idiot who can’t behave like a man, like an adult. And definitely not like my son.
Roman gasps and groans, pressing a hand to the side of his head. His fingers tremble, and the sight of him rattled by one hit pisses me off all over again.
He’s led a soft, pampered life, incapable of handling any challenge. But this won’t be a challenge. I’m past caring what he thinks or wants. As of this morning, I’ve cut his mother out of my life too. I’m not in the mood to lecture Roman. I’m not feeling generous enough to hear him out or have a real conversation.
All I want is to remove him. To put so much distance between us that I’ll never have to see his face or hear his whining again.
“What the hell?” He pulls his hand back. Blood trickles from the gash at his temple. He’s dazed and stunned but lucid enough to stare stupidly at his hand, smeared red. “What are you doing?” It doesn’t come out as a whisper. It comes out as a demand—too arrogant, too disbelieving.
I grab the front of his shirt and jerk him up off his feet. He’s a lightweight, never bothering to bulk up or build any real muscle or strength. He claws at my fingers as I hold him there. His badly knotted tie is caught in my fist, and as I hoist him into the air, I pull that strip of fabric tight around his neck, like a noose.
Behind him, I catch Viktor waving Liliana back. He must be clearing the scene, getting the bakery employees out of here. I war with the urge to check on her. She was struck, but she didn’t fall. She’s still standing there—I know it without looking, the way I always know exactly where she is.
Roman struggles, trying to make me let go. But I don’t. I can’t. This punishment is long overdue. I should have made him face the consequences of his actions years ago. It’s time to drill it into his thick skull—the last words he’ll ever get from me.
“You are no longer my son.”
He furrows his brow, gawking at me. “You can’t—”
I hit him again, whipping him with the gun, and let go at the same time. He drops to the floor, moaning. Cursing and breathing hard, he slowly sits up.
“You’ve failed to understand that I am the boss, but you’ll never forget it after today.”
He shakes his head, pale-faced and speechless. His lower lip trembles as I put him in his place—and his place is on his ass, desperate to crawl back into my good graces. It’ll never happen. Seeing him here, threatening Liliana, is the final straw.
“You are going to disappear.”
He scrambles to his knees. “No!”
“You’re cut off from this family. Cut off from ever seeing another penny from me.”
“You can’t do this!”
I glower at him as he clumsily tries to stand.
“But I can and I will. I may have allowed your mother to raise you to be an entitled brat, and I’ll own up to my mistake with that, but striking a woman, my woman, is one thing I will never forgive. We are done.”
I let him live to suffer the reality of being cut off. He’s disowned, no longer my son, my heir. He’s out, stripped of any right to call himself a member of the Sokolov Bratva. My men will put him on a plane out of New York and that will be the end of my headaches.
One look at Viktor confirms he’ll handle it. With that done, I turn to face the man who dared aim a gun at Liliana.