Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
I hadn’t found her body, but I’d found the ring I’d given her.
I wanted to break down and fucking cry.
My father growled, “Of course he has something to say. Don’t you, Killian? Tell them. Tell them the truth.”
I hunched into myself. Even now, even after he’d already destroyed my life, he was intent on hammering the nails into my coffin.
“Well, son. What do you have to tell us?” the officer asked, shaking me.
“Killian, admit to it,” my father hissed. “Tell them what a fucking murderer you are.”
There was nothing left to fight for.
She was dead.
I would follow her as soon as I could find a way.
“I killed them,” I whispered.
“What was that?” The officer leaned closer.
Gathering every inch of betrayal and hatred from my soul, I bellowed, “I fucking killed them. I murdered Paul and Sandra Price. Are you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”
The officer shook his head sadly. “No, son, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear at all.”
The last thing I heard as they stuffed me into the back of a cop cruiser was my father chuckling with accomplishment.
He’d used his youngest son to dispatch the president of Dagger Rose, all so he could take it over himself.
He’d sentenced me to a life of eternal misery, all for fucking greed.
And for that I hoped the devil would tear out his heart and eat it for fucking breakfast.
I forced the memories away—to stay locked and barricaded. If I didn’t, I’d go insane with anger. My eyes returned to Wallstreet’s neck, starting a new calculation on how long it would take me to rip out his voice box so I didn’t have to listen to him anymore.
Wallstreet looked around, dropping his voice to a murmur. “I have a proposition for you.”
My eyes narrowed. Suspicion laced my blood. I didn’t say a word, letting him dig the trench he obviously thought I was stupid enough to enter.
“You have a head for numbers. You graduated top of your class in both physics and university-level math. You turned a work experience week at the local stock market into a trending explosion of blue-chip stocks by going bearish on the trade. You’re a natural, Arthur, and that’s a rare and beautiful thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “You read my résumé. How thoughtful.”
He snapped, “I’m serious.”
My eyes flashed. “And I’m serious when I said my name is Killian. Arthur died the moment he was betrayed and thrown away to rot in this godforsaken place.”
“We’ll come back to that.” Wallstreet looked over my shoulder before glancing back at me. “It brings me to my next point. What else do you know about me?”
Ah, the darker part of his history. The part where the police tried to trip him up. The amount of warrants served to him as the president of a motorcycle crew was insane. They’d tried to bring him down again and again. But nothing ever stuck.
Not until his bitch of a Club whore got jealous and threw him to the law.
“You want me to outline it, or are you happy to take my nod that I know about the Corrupts, its perfect history, and your iron-fist control?”
He snarled, anger siphoning through him like liquid fire. “Iron-fist control, my ass. It’s out of fucking control.” He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his hair again. He smiled. “Sorry, that was uncalled-for. What I meant to say was, the past few years the man I left in charge has decided not to follow my explicit instructions. He’s taken my vision and ruined it.”
I flicked a finger at a dent in the table. “And what does that have to do with me?”
Wallstreet grinned. “Everything, my dear boy.”
Something in his voice had my head snapping up. I glared. “Spill it. Your three minutes were up four minutes ago, and I’m five seconds away from throwing my fist in your face.”
He laughed. “Tell me, how often do you think in equations? Do you ever stop calculating?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been asked that a lot and my best reply is ‘fuck off.’ ”
His smile grew broader.
In reality, the answer to that question was that it was like I live in the fucking matrix with green code falling around me like rain, all day every day. I knew mathematical symbols better than I did the English alphabet. I could work out the hardest trig problem without a calculator. I could give answers to any problem within seconds.
Math—my ultimate love.
Apart from her, of course.
Wallstreet smiled, leaning in once again. “Perfect, I see the answer in your eyes. That’s the reply I wanted—what I needed to witness. Tell me, if you get out of here, how many people do you have to ruin?”
My breath caught in my chest. Ruin? Destroy, more like.
“Three. I have three.”
“And do you have a plan on how you’ll do it?”