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“Here.” Luca returns, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. “I’m going to head back outside to keep Robert and Chris company.”

He hands over my father’s mug, then meets my gaze as he hands me mine. A silent question is asked. He’s waiting for insight. Instruction. He doesn’t know where to go from here, and I need him to know nothing has fucking changed.

“Good idea.” I give Luca a taunting grin. “Get back to work.”

There’s a pause, the tiniest second where my words sink in, then he nods. “Shout out if you need me.”

He returns outside, the whoosh of the clasping glass door confining me in a situation fast escalating out of my control.

I need to reclaim the wheel. I’m not going to nosedive.

This asshole won’t get the better of me.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while,” he speaks in his usual tone, as if our conversation doesn’t require a change in pitch to mark the seriousness. “The time never seemed right.”

He sidesteps and places a hand on the child’s shoulder, encouraging the boy forward. “Cole, this is Tobias. Your half-brother.”

The confirmation hits me hard, but I lock it down.

I anticipated the explanation the moment I stared into the boy’s tiny face. I knew this was coming. I won’t let the words strike me with the force of a sucker punch.

“A brother?” I hold everything in check—my calm, my confidence, my fucking temper. My sisters will be beside themselves when they hear the news, but I can’t think of them now.

“Hello, Tobias.” I force myself to crouch, meeting purity at eye level.

He inches backward. Afraid. Of me.

His recoil is brutal.

“Tobias,” my father warns. “What have I told you?”

The boy swallows, his shoulders drooping. “Never show fear.”

“Exactly. Now what do you say?”

The kid hesitates, his mouth working like a fish before he finally finds his voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

My rage coagulates. My father is the most menacing prick to walk the earth, and yet he’s the one who needs to convince my brother to fake a happy introduction.

“The pleasure is all mine.” I grin, trying to ease the apprehension staring back at me. “But you must be tired. Does your dad usually wake you during the middle of the night to meet strangers?”

I glance up at Luther, no longer able to face one of his sins.

“Coming out at this hour was a safety precaution. We won’t stay long. We can catch up more tomorrow.”

I straighten, pushing to my feet, and ignore the spill of coffee escaping the lip of my mug.

“I understand.” I swing out an arm, indicating the sofa. “Tell me everything. I want to hear all there is to know about this new brother of mine.”

Luther leads the way into the living area, taking the farthest position on the three-seater while I take a seat on the opposite side.

“I learned a long time ago that I’d never be able to fully return to the US,” he continues, ignoring Tobias as the boy shuffles onto the cushions, snuggling into his side.

I ignore the kid, too. I have to.

As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t exist.

If I want to succeed, I have to pretend my half-brother is nothing more than a physical deformity that needs to be disregarded for the sake of good ma

“I had to start over in Greece, which wasn’t easy. Being alone, without you and your sisters, was difficult.”

“So you found yourself a new family?” I don’t let anything other than curiosity mark my words. There’s no wounded pride or bitter resentment. I push down all the animosity.

“Of sorts, yes. My business dealings kept me occupied enough, but I needed more.”

What he needed was a victim. A mindless slave. Someone to look up to him and take in every lie as if the information were heaven-sent.

“You have your empire in Portland.” He wraps his arm around Tobias. “And I needed someone to take over the family business I created in Greece.”

That’s comforting.

He had another child for the sole benefit of continuing the trade of sex slaves. This little boy was born to torture. How fucking delightful.

The bile pulsing up my throat no longer registers over the hatred coursing through me. I’m done with my father. I’m entirely finished with his manipulations. My continued civility is only for the benefit of gaining information.

“And his mother?” I take a sip of coffee. Slow. Measured.

“She was a complication neither one of us needed.”

In other words, she’s dead.

Just another victim.

I raise my brows. “You look after him on your own?”

“No.” He chuckles. “My harem takes good care of the motherly duties. He’s only with me for the business side of things.”

I can’t help joining in on the laughter. At the absurdity. At the fucking conceited way he boasts his depravity.

“But there’s no need for you to feel threatened,” he adds. “Not by Tobias, or the new family I’m creating. Nothing between you and I has changed.”

I smile through the insults. “I assure you, I’m not threatened in the slightest. I’m just glad to hear you’re safe. I wasn’t sure what to think when you escaped without giving me any notice of your plan.” I throw another one of his betrayals into the air, curious to see how he will hit it back at me.

“That was a tough decision.” He cradles his coffee, raising it to his face and the aroma deep into his lungs. “I wanted to keep you as far away from the scrutiny as possible. I can handle my own mess.”

I nod. “I know. But don’t ever worry about what I can and can’t handle. The authorities are the last of my concerns. They won’t touch me.”

“I used to think the same thing. Unfortunately, alliances change.”

“Your business model changed,” I correct. I won’t let him sit here, blaming his arrest on the shift of treaties when he was the one who threw himself under the bus. He’s responsible for his issues. Him and him alone. “There’s a limit to police generosity, and you crossed it when you began abducting women from the country.”

There’s a beat of silence. A shift in his expression.

His lips tighten. His eyes narrow.

“Is that judgment I hear in your voice?” He cocks his head to the side. “I should’ve known. You made your lack of support clear when you declined my offer to join this part of the family business. What happened to the bloodthirsty entrepreneur I created?”

It’s another insult. One that’s hard to ignore.

I bite down my ever-growing rage and release the slightest scoff. “My concern is over your safety. It always has been. Drug distribution is different to trafficking women. You need to grease a lot more palms, otherwise you’re going to wind up back behind bars.”

“The only reason I was there in the first place was because of Richard. If he hadn’t died, I never would’ve returned to Portland.”

Never.

Would’ve.

Returned.

Not to see me. Or his daughters. Or his granddaughter.

He cut ties without us even knowing.

“But, son,” He leans back, resting one arm along the head rest, exuding supremacy. “The benefits to my recent adventures go above and beyond anything the drug trade could provide. I’m living a new way of life. I’m a fucking king over here. Men want to be me. Women beg to sleep with me. Nothing could be better.”

“Women beg to sleep with you?” I hide my skepticism behind another sip of coffee.

“They spread their legs eagerly.” He smirks. “Because the alternative is far worse. My women can either take turns fucking me once or twice a day in an opulent setting, or I can send them back to work with the rest of the slaves where they will be brutalized once or twice an hour.”