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Jesus Christ.
I push back the building mental struggle and force myself to focus on the here and now. On the immaculate view. Everything here is pristine and picture-perfect. It’s the company that taints it all.
I don’t want to speak to my father anymore. I’m not sure I can keep opening my mouth without spewing hatred.
The pressure only builds when I consider how easy it would be to end his life right now. All it would take is a quick slide of hand into my jacket to retrieve my gun. A turn of my wrist. Then two quick squeezes of the trigger.
Luther, then Chris.
Dead.
I could do it, too. I would do it if I knew where Robert had gone.
If I had to place a bet, I’d say he’s tailing us around every corner, providing a hidden safety net. The backup wouldn’t help my slain father, but I’m sure the steroid junkie would cause enough trouble to stop me from reaching Anissa.
I wouldn’t be able to get us all to the jet before reinforcements caught up to us. And even if I did, the aftermath would be riddled with complications.
The whole idea of making a move in Greece is so my father can go missing. The isolated island provides a buffer to dispose of evidence, and it also means there’ll be no witnesses.
Luther would’ve sunk to the bottom of the ocean by now if I’d followed through last night. The three of them would’ve become fish food. One minute, they’re building a thriving empire. The next, I’m taking over and shutting it down.
“Cole?”
“Hmm?” The car slows as I turn back to my father. “What is it?”
“Chris asked for your gun.”
The driver holds his hand over his shoulder, waiting. “All weapons need to be surrendered before you enter the property. We don’t allow visitors to be armed.”
“Visitors? Since when is your son a visitor?”
“It’s necessary.” My father winces out an unspoken apology. “We had problems a year ago with one of my girls. She stole a gun from a guest and created u
I don’t like it. I fucking hate the idea. And the stiff posture of Luca in the front seat a
“Maybe we should go somewhere else then.” I swirl my finger in the air, motioning for Chris to turn the vehicle around. “Find a cafe or a restaurant.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re almost home. And no son of mine is going to come all this way and not see where I live. I’m sure you can survive without your weapons for a few hours.”
Can I? I’m not so sure.
“Cole?” Luther frowns at me. “What’s gotten into you? Since when don’t you trust your own flesh and blood?”
I scoff out a laugh. “Since you demanded to take my gun.”
He continues to frown, his scrutiny increasing. It’s only a matter of time before he realizes my uncertainty is a reflection of myself, not him.
“Okay, okay.” I reach into my jacket and pull my weapon from the holster. “Look after her.”
I slap the warm metal in Chris’s hand and watch as Luca does the same. Both weapons are placed in the glove compartment.
When the car moves again, it’s only a few yards along the road until we pull up before wrought-iron gates, the overbearing barrier guarded by a lone man with a rifle.
“Welcome to my home away from home.” Luther nods his appreciation at the guard as we’re allowed entry, passing security cameras and a head-high brick wall. “This is my personal paradise.”
The gardens are lush. The lawns manicured. The trees blooming with flowers. All of it is a perfect frame for the massive white building coming into view as we round the curving pebbled drive.
Tobias stands at the top of the few stairs leading to the large double doors of the mansion, his i
“There’s my boy.” My father releases his belt, and the car pulls to a stop. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
We climb out, all four of us walking toward the house, my father and Chris in front, Luca eyeing me with trepidation as we walk behind to meet the kid at the top step.
“Hey, little man.” I crouch on one knee, not bothering to offer my hand when I can already see the anxiety in his features. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He nods, the movement jerky until he settles in against my father’s side. He gains strength from Luther. Protection.
I used to feel the same.
“The two of you are strikingly similar,” my father drawls. “Both worrying u
“I trust you.” I shove to my feet. “But I’m begi
“Believe me, they are.” He shoos Tobias with a wave of his hand. “Go get them. Tell them we have guests.”
“Yes, Baba.” Tobias backtracks with a nod and slips between the front doors, his ru
We follow, my father leading us down a wide hall, through an opulent living room, past a sparkling kitchen, then outside to a stu
“Chris, get one of the women to arrange something to eat.” My father looks at his right-hand man. “I think we could all do with a drink, too.”
The guy jerks his head and makes his way back inside, leaving me and Luca to pretend to take in the atmosphere while we scope the security.
“Well?” My father descends onto a cushioned outdoor chair and retrieves a remote from the coffee table in front of him. With the press of a button an overhead fan starts to spin, releasing a cooling white mist. “What do you think?”
“You’ve done well for yourself.” It’s the best compliment I can offer. I’m tired of the lies and fake placations. Every breath Luther takes is a taunt to my failure, not only last night, but years ago. “How long have you lived here?”
“A while. At least since Tobias was born. Chris and Robert used to run the household and look after the women when I was still travelling back and forth from the States.”
“Look after them?” I take a seat opposite him.
“Yes. A certain level of routine needs to be maintained, otherwise the slaves slip into bad habits.”
Luca takes the seat beside me. “Meaning they’re serviced on a regular basis to stop them fighting back after a long stretch of relative freedom?”
“Correct. Although, I do enjoy a good fight.” Luther grins. “But Robert and Chris also made sure the women saw to Tobias’s education and welfare. He’s home schooled, and it’s a fine line between them treating him like their own son, and having him realize they’re assets, not maternal figures.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen, you’ve raised a good kid.” Luca kicks back in his chair, a picture of relaxed calm.
“He’s exceptional. With Cole, I had his mother to contend with in the early years. She made me soften the truth of the family business until she thought he was old enough to handle reality. With Tobias, I haven’t had those restrictions. And it’s made a world of difference.”
“I wouldn’t disregard the importance of balance.” I spread my arms wide, indicating his riches. “No matter how much money you have, it won’t be enough to pay for the therapy the kid will need if you expose him to too much too soon.”
“Children are resilient. And most important, they’re easily molded. You’d be surprised what he can withstand.”
No, I wouldn’t.