Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“What we need,” she hisses, stepping over to me, “is to go home to where all of our stuff is.”
“It’s all being packed up as we speak,” I tell her.
“And what about Damien’s school?” she volleys. “He’s going to wake up in the morning and expect to go to school, where all his friends are. Are you going to pack them up too?” she says, sarcasm dripping in every word.
“He’s three. Once we get a handle on the threat, we’ll find him a good school here.”
She scoffs and shakes her head. “So, what, we’re being held prisoner here?”
“Only until we figure out who the threat is.”
“And once the threat is gone, can we move out?” she challenges, knowing damn well I’m not going to let our son live anywhere other than under my roof.
“Let’s just take it one day at a time,” I tell her. “I went almost four years without my son. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to spend some time with him. You’ve had him to yourself all these years while I didn’t even know he was alive.”
“Well, if tonight is anything to go by, the only reason he’s still alive is because I kept him away from you. Less than twelve hours into you knowing about him, and we’re already being threatened. If you want to get to know him, you might want to work a little harder at keeping him out of harm’s way.” Her voice catches on the last part, her emotions seeping through.
For a moment, instead of the cold bitch she’s shown me, I see the worried mother who is scared for her child’s life.
As I watch her walk away and disappear into the en suite bathroom, I vow to make sure they’re both protected and safe. I failed my mother and my sister, but I won’t fail them.
“What do we know?” I ask, walking into my office a few minutes later.
Matteo is already sitting in the visitor seat with our IT guy. Eddy is a literal genius when it comes to all things technology. He can hack into damn near anything and find whatever or whoever we’re looking for.
“Anthony Rothschild,” Matteo says as Eddy turns his laptop around for me to see. “All contact leads back to him.”
For a moment, I think about what he would get out of this.
He wanted to marry my sister.
He raped her when he found out that she was with someone else.
She wasn’t sure who the father was …
My thoughts go to the text we now know he sent—An eye for an eye.
Suddenly, it all clicks into place.
“He knows.” I glance up at Matteo, who raises a questioning brow. “We don’t know what was said that day Joseph shot Andrey. Anthony was there. What would make someone so mad that he would kill his business partner?”
Matteo waits for me to continue.
“Andrey told them that Brielle had an abortion, that Joseph’s flesh and blood was dead.”
“Fuck,” Matteo breathes. “It makes sense. Andrey was probably pissed that Anthony was with her before the wedding, and he wanted to punish him, make a point. Andrey never would’ve let Brielle have a baby out of wedlock.”
“No, because it would’ve made the family look bad.”
“So, Joseph killed Andrey. And then Giuseppe killed Joseph. And Anthony ran. He said it the day we were questioning him in the warehouse … ‘I want what’s owed to me.’ ”
“He didn’t just mean Bri,” Matteo says. “He also meant the baby.”
“And the second he found out that I have a son, he went after him … an eye for an eye.”
“We need to take him out,” Matteo deadpans. “He’s not going to stop until he gets his hands on Damien.”
“He’s working with the mayor,” I say. “I don’t know why the mayor would give him the time of day, but he’s the one who vouched for Anthony at the auction.”
“Fucking unbelievable,” Matteo spits. “It’s not a coincidence that Paul Astor Jr. was nearly killed right before the election and forced to pull out of the running, allowing Eric Vanderbilt to win by default.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s not a coincidence. So, the question is, what does Mr. Mayor want?”
“Martha.” I nod at the housekeeper as I walk into the kitchen the next morning.
“Mr. Antonov,” she says with a smile as she pours my coffee.
After finding out who was responsible for the bugs in our house, we were forced to fire our cleaning company, unsure if anyone else had been compromised. Thankfully, Martha has been with us for years and is loyal to a fault.
“We have a couple of new houseguests,” I tell her, taking the coffee from her and having a seat at the island. “My son, Damien, and his mother, Peyton, will be staying with us indefinitely. He’s three … almost four,” I add, realizing I don’t even know when my son’s birthday is.