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“Whispers?” I raise my voice. “There are always fucking whispers. You know that as well as I do.”
I’m being buried, the heavy weight of dirt compacting on top of me.
I don’t know how to find safety. Not for me. Not for Luca. And fuck, definitely not for Anissa.
I have to give my father what he wants—a sign.
A fucking show.
“True.” He inclines his head. “But whispers backed up by your refusal only make me question who you’ve become in my absence.”
“You want proof?” I throw my arms wide. “I’ll give you fucking proof.”
Luca curses under his breath as I storm for Anissa, hating myself with each inch I approach.
I no longer fight my punishment. I can’t. I deserve to look into those petrified eyes, the ones that also contain defiance, and a fuckload of hatred.
She clenches her fists at her sides. Her chin hitches in a worthless show of strength.
She’s still so fucking strong, staring me down, questioning my motives. There’s no hint of her thinking I’ll be her savior. There’s only loathing and desolation beaming back at me.
I’ve reclaimed the villain status in her story, and that’s okay. I’ll pay whatever price necessary to keep air in her lungs.
“I’ll show you the hits she’s taken at the price of my enjoyment.” I stop in front of her and steel myself, straightening my shoulders, tightening my jaw.
I pretend she’s nothing.
Not my woman.
Not the air I breathe.
“Here’s your fucking proof.” I shove the jacket from her shoulders, pushing it from her body to fall to the floor.
But the evidence staring back at me isn’t something I inflicted.
The myriad of blacks and blues marring her once milky skin aren’t my doing.
I didn’t create the mottled bruise covering her ribs. Or the scratches along her legs. And not once was my hold against her throat worthy of creating the red marks that perfectly form the imprint of a hand.
The fading proof of rope burns on her wrists are nothing in comparison to the brutality before me.
“Well?” Chris asks. “What are you waiting for? Move out of the fucking way so we can see.”
I sneer, sheer menace pulling at my lips as I meet her gaze and wordlessly promise retribution. But the woman staring back at me doesn’t resemble the same person from seconds ago.
Those eyes are now glazed, her tears barely bottled.
Her lips tremble. She pleads for help without a word, and all I want to do is slay the fucking world to make this right.
“It looks like I’ve been outdone.” I suck in a breath and force myself to turn away from her. “Here I was thinking I could show you my handiwork, but it’s obvious your dog has ruined my masterpiece.”
I grab Anissa’s wrist and yank her forward, exposing her.
“Holy fuck.” Luca’s curse doesn’t sink in. Nothing breeches my internal battle.
I want their blood.
I want their pain.
I want anything and everything that will strip me of the fucking guilt tearing me from the inside out.
“He laid hands on her.” I glare at my father. “What would you do if someone tainted your pretty Pe
He presses his lips tight, not buying into my anger.
“Answer me,” I demand. “Tell me how this is acceptable.”
“My concern is your actions. Not his.”
I’m still losing, the dirt compacting harder to bury me alive.
Anissa’s breaths become audible, the tiny pants of panic undoing me.
I’d die to tell her how strong she is. To remind her of the shit she’s already lived through. To show her what she looks like through my eyes.
Instead, I step away from her—away from the numbing hitch accompanying her inhales—and approach Luther. A throb builds behind my sternum. It’s common sense trying to alert me to an impending mistake, but I have no other choice.
“Do you want to know why I refused to jump through your hoops today?” I get right in his face. “Do you want me to explain why I’m above all this u
“A legitimate reason is all I’m waiting for, son.”
I scoff out a laugh and shake my head. “It’s because I’ve already done a lifetime worth of parlor tricks. And I know how to fucking pre-empt them. I came here looking to join your partnership after already providing my evidence. Dragging this bitch here, abducting her, drugging her, and using her fucking body is my testament.”
“We do that shit on the daily,” Chris mutters. “It’s nothing special.”
I hold my father’s gaze and swallow over the tightening vise around my chest. “She doesn’t look familiar to you?”
Anissa gasps.
She knows where I’m going with this. She understands the risks.
“Should she?” Luther glances behind me, his brow furrowed as he takes her in. “I don’t recognize her at all.”
“That’s a pity. Maybe none of this shit would’ve happened if you did.”
He returns his attention to me, his eyes narrowing. “Who is she?”
“Special Agent Anissa Fox, William Fox’s daughter, and one of the arresting agents from Richard’s funeral.”
“You brought a fucking Fed into the heart of our operation?” Robert asks. “Are you fucking insane?”
“We brought her to an undisclosed island, you fucking piece of shit.” Luca stalks toward him. “You assholes are the ones who brought her here.”
I ignore the build of their animosity as I continue to stare at my father. I can’t read him. I don’t know which way he’ll swing.
I can only hope—and fucking pray—I’ve anticipated the correct reaction.
“You’re not going to respond?” I growl. “You don’t think I knew I’d need to prove my worth to you when I’ve spent every day of my life doing the same damn thing?”
I backtrack, returning to Anissa’s side as my father watches in avid fascination.
“I knew you’d want some type of proof.” I grab her wrist and force her to do a spin, flaunting my control. “So I went above and beyond. I put all your men to shame by abducting an FBI agent—a woman who helped to put you behind bars, for fuck’s sake.”
Nissa yanks her arm from my grip, and I pretend her rejection doesn’t stab me through the fucking chest. Out of all the people I’m trying to convince of my sincerity, she isn’t one of them.
“You put a lot of thought into this.” Luther continues to eye her as he steps forward, reaching out to touch.
“Don’t even think about placing hands on her.” I block his path. “You don’t deserve to play in my league.”
He doesn’t react. The seconds tick by in painful increments. Then finally, with excruciating lethargy, his lips lift into a grin. “Touché.”
“If that’s an apology, it’s a fucking pathetic one.” I glance down at the jacket on the floor, then jut my chin at her. “Put it back on.”
“I won’t apologize.” My father’s voice remains strong.
He doesn’t need to tell me. I already know from a lifetime of experience.
“But I will admit I’m impressed. I never would’ve crossed the line to work off William’s debt through his daughter.”
“I didn’t cross anything. The line no longer existed once she helped put you in jail.”
He nods. “Again, I’m impressed.”
“It’s a little late for that.” I wait for Anissa to shrug into my overbearing jacket, then grab her wrist. She fights again, trying to yank herself from my grip, slowly killing me in the process. “You can keep your business to yourself. I no longer want a part of it.”
“Don’t take my actions personally.” My father placates me with one of those chastising parental looks. “You know as well as I do it’s not smart to ignore rumors.”