Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
She rises, setting a glass down in front of each of us, then settles beside Dante again. She looks beautiful, poised, strong. Better than she did when I left her only hours ago.
“I was the one who informed Hamish about your plan, brother,” Dante informs us all, but his gaze is pinned on his brother. “Now, before you fight me on this, I’ll explain. You see, I found out our mother, along with your beautiful girlfriend’s mother, were both fucking Hamish,” Dante says. He lifts his wine glass as if he’s about to make a toast. “I wish him luck on his ventures, because since I found this out, I figured, we should all meet him, have a meal, and get to know the man who was responsible for a variety of deaths, kidnappings, and even a few broken souls along the way.”
“What?” I croak, unsure where this is going.
“Hamish Amoretto was the mind behind the Savage Organization,” Dante says. “He was blackmailing Malcolm to perform certain . . . duties, so that he can live a life of luxury.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Drake says, to which Dante smirks, sliding over a folder which he’d set on the table when he joined us.
Drake flips open the manila folder with pages of information about my father’s investment, or rather, startup costs which he had given Malcolm to get the enterprise up and running. My father was the mastermind behind everything that happened to me. But then he fucked up. It appears he lost money gambling, paying for whores, and also paying for the delivery of the toys from various operations.
When Drake gets to the last page, my vision blurs. I was payment for my father’s debt to Thanos. He’d borrowed money from the man, and I was the auctioned item to clear my father’s name.
“So.” Dante smiles. “I brought you all here today to get your take on the events that took place as we grew up,” he tells us. “For years, Drake tried to protect me. He hid the things he’d seen, the things he experienced, but I knew. Deep down, I realized my brother wasn’t okay. Each smile was offset by darkness that danced in his eyes, and I figured, I’ll be the big brother for once. I’ll save him.”
“What are you talking about, Dante?” This time, Drake sounds frustrated with his brother. His hand still clutches mine, and I’m sure if he lets go, I’ll fall to my knees and weep.
The silence is thick, heavy, and daunting. I don’t know if I want to know the truth. I honestly don’t think I can handle any more than I already have.
“Well, it turns out, dear brother, that Mommy Dearest knows exactly where River’s mother is hiding.” Dante looks excited about the prospect of finding the woman who birthed the boys’ best friend. He seems jovial.
“And where exactly is that?” River finally speaks beside me. I grip his hand, knowing that this could set him off. I don’t know River as well as I do Drake, but something tells me that he could lose his mind over the fact that his mother could be closer than he believed.
“Well.” Dante rises. He strides over to where his and Drake’s mother is sitting. We watch as he rips the black tape from over her mouth. “Tell them, Mommy Dearest,” Dante utters in her ear so we can all hear him. “Tell them where your sister is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DRAKE
“What?” My voice is raspy. I growl the word through clenched teeth. This can’t be happening. Shaking my head, I watch as my mother trembles and shivers as the tears stream down her face. She’s begging and pleading, but all I see is red. Blood-fucking-rage red. There’s nothing that can stop me from moving from my seat, not even Caia.
I’m in her face, tugging the rope until she’s free, then I wrench her from the chair by her neck. She’s so light I easily lift her and pin her against the wall. Her slim frame shudders with fear, but I don’t give a shit.
My blood has passed simmering. It’s fucking boiling. Her wide eyes that look so familiar meet mine in agony and apology, but nothing can make up for what she did.
“Please, let me explain.”
“River is my fucking cousin? Your filthy whore of a sister left him to live a life of filth and depravity?” Spittle flies from my mouth, landing on her face, causing her to flinch as I pray my words burn her. But I know they don’t. Sadly, they only cause her more heartache. I want to see the bitch burn. I don’t care if she carried me for nine months, I don’t care if she forced me from her cunt. I’m just angry she isn’t really dead.
My fingers tighten around her delicate neck. Tears race down her cheeks like a salty waterfall of despair.