Treachery

I’m sick of this shit.

Cold fury is flowing through me as I run upstairs to take a shower to get the jailhouse stench off my skin. Not that I smelled as bad as Shane or Damon walking out of that place, but just spending six hours there was enough to rub my nerves the wrong way and leave the subtle scent of blood, sweat and piss on my skin.

Stripping off my jacket as I step into the room, I toss it on my bed and tug at my belt to unfasten it. Tossing that aside, I turn while pulling off my tie, my gaze landing on the bed where I’d left Luca sleeping this morning, her small body curled up peacefully beneath the sheets.

Is it creepy I’d stood here staring at her for what felt like an hour before I left? She’s the first woman I’ve ever let sleep in my bed, the first I’ve actually wanted to stay.

I can’t understand it, and maybe that’s why I stared at her for so long.

To say I was irate when I got the call about Damon and Shane would be an understatement. But I got up and forced myself out the door regardless.

It wasn’t easy.

Not with her stretched out over my bed like a tease begging me to stay.

Maybe it was guilt that kept me standing there for so long.

I can’t exactly say on that one, I’ve never felt sorry for what I’ve done. The games we play have been our life for as long as I can remember.

It was all so natural before Luca came along, a process pounded into us by our dickheads for fathers, a learned behavior that we use to manipulate our world and the people around us.

Really, it was child’s play at first - literally. Doing a stupid favor for another kid when we were very young and then forcing him to eat mud as payment.

Obviously, that changed as we got older, and the price we demanded for the favors took on more significant meaning. By the time we started high school, our games were cruel.

We ran the school and bullied everyone into submission. We fucked who we wanted, fought when we wanted, made the lives of all the students hell unless they fell in line.

It wasn’t until college that the price we demanded played a part in our father’s businesses.

Essentially, we were molded to eventually take over once our fathers retired, and I never regretted any of the games.

Until now.

Until Luca.

Stepping into the shower to scrub off the subtle perfume of jailhouse stench, I wonder if that’s why I’ve fucked up so badly with her. It’s possible I haven’t aligned the pieces as expertly as I know I can because I haven’t wanted to crush her completely.

That, and I enjoy her a

Maybe I simply don’t want to destroy the spirit of someone who fascinates me. It seems wrong to do it. As if doing so would be akin to destroying a one of a kind artifact, something that, once it’s gone, can never be replaced.

I’m not sure, and it can’t matter at this moment because I have another issue to handle - one that has my hands clenching into fists and my teeth grinding so hard that pain is shooting down my jaw.

A half hour later and I’m pulling into another gated community, an exclusive neighborhood where several of us grew up. Every mansion in this place costs no less than twenty million, an enclave reserved for those with the most power and money.

Thankfully, I’m not heading to my childhood home on this trip. I’m driving to where the twins grew up, a monstrosity of a house owned by a man who has always been the most temperamental of our fathers.

He’s the reason for the fight last night, his phone call with Damon setting off his son. As usual, Shane had taken advantage.

The twins are a problem on their own, but when you add Shane to the equation, it’s always worse.

Shane is an instigator of the highest level, an asshole who will start a fight intentionally but then step out of it so he can laugh at the chaos. He doesn’t follow rules and rarely goes along with what’s demanded of him.

At times, his skills are useful, which is the only reason I haven’t beat his ass more often for the shit he pulls.

Parking by the large front porch, I climb out of the car and head up the steps to surprise the twins’ father, William.

It’s better I catch him off guard, gives him less time to prepare for what it is I plan to do.

I ring the doorbell and wait impatiently for the butler to answer, his eyes widening with surprise to see me.

“Mr. Caine. It’s been a long time. Please come in.”

He leads me to a sitting room off the foyer and offers me a drink that I decline before scurrying off to tell William I’m here.

I don’t have much of a plan in mind, just the need to throw my weight around and remind William that the twins are no longer his to fuck with. I’m not sure we’ll ever know what he did to his sons to warp them. But that’s not what matters to me at the moment.

All I care about is that he knows that those days are done.

The only language that William Cross can understand is the same language he taught his sons:

Anger and violence.

It’s why I don’t give him time to gather his bearings when he strolls into the room, why my fist co

It’s why I jam my forearm against his throat as I shove him against a wall, and I sneer down at him as I lower my face until we’re at eye level.

“You almost got Damon killed. And I’m fucking done with it.”

William glares back at me, blood dripping from both his nostrils as he struggles to break my hold on him.

Years ago, I wasn’t strong enough to take this bastard on, but time has honed my body with muscle while old age softened him.

“So you think you’re big and bad now, huh?”

I punch him again, his head snapping left before I step back to let his body slide down the wall and crumple to the ground.

William wipes the blood from his mouth as his glare crawls up to my face. It’s not that he’s new to violence. I understood that before coming here. So I’m not surprised when a bark of laughter bursts from his throat.

“I guess you do think that. But you’re still a punk that has to sneak up on a man without warning to cause damage.”

Cocking a brow, I stretch out my hand to ease the pain of hitting him.

“This is a warning. If you fuck with their lives again, I won’t be so easy on you next time.”

William straightens his body against the wall, blood still trickling down over his mouth to drip from his chin.

More laughter as he shakes his head.

“You know, it’s just like you to focus on the things that don’t matter. You’ve always been that way, Ta

Lunging forward, I grab him by his neck and drag him up the wall.

“Unfortunately for you, he didn’t. Don’t call the twins again. Don’t go anywhere near them. Because the next time I pay you a visit, you won’t survive it.”

His lips part as he attempts to drag in a breath, his brown eyes holding mine with fury behind them.

Loosening my hold, I hit him again, a grin stretching my lips as his head snaps back before he crumples a second time.

“It’s been fun catching up,” I say as I walk calmly from the room, but William calls out to me, stopping me in place.