Page 123 of Explosive Prejudice

“Te quiero, Principito,” he said quietly, then pulled back and put his hand on my jaw. “Tell Shay-Lee I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Will do.”

With Shay-Lee being broke, he could no longer book all my appointments at the club. It sucked balls, but we had no other choice. I made Dion enough money for him to give me a pass over sleeping with clients in exchange for extra shifts. With sex out of the way, all I had to do was act like I enjoyed my patron’s company, and that was it. Pretending with my clients came naturally to me, even more so now, when I imagined Shay-Lee instead of them, and my clients would think they meant the world to me.

Almost done with today’s shift, I had one last meeting. I was told it was a new client, very high-profile, who asked to meet privately for obvious reasons.

Reaching the private room, I secured the mask to my face before knocking on the door and walking in. The door hadn’t even closed behind me before the back of my head was smacked with some object, hard enough to send me to my knees.

I was pounded again as soon as I touched the floor, this time to the side of my face, and the hit was enough to make my mask fall.

“What the fuck—” My words were cut short when someone fisted my hair and pulled my head back, forcing me to look up. A choked laugh escaped me when I saw Christian sitting on the edge of the bed while his muppet, Orson, restrained me.

“Aren’t you an ugly sight,” I hissed, and Orson punched my face as a reward. I spat blood and tried to stand, only for Orson to kick me to the floor, keeping me there by stepping on my back, making it hard to breathe.

“Easy there, Orson. We don’t want him dead.”

“Sure about that, sir?”

He applied more force, and my lungs burned with the need for air before he removed the pressure but kept his shoes on the middle of my back.

Fucker.

“I assume greetings are pointless at this stage,” Christian said, voice cold. I said nothing as he went on, looking at me dismissively. “For the past month, I’ve been wondering what my son saw in you, but now, it’s crystal clear. He always tended to stick to bad apples, and you take the cake.”

“Fuck off.”

His lips pulled into a wicked smile, and he looked down at the floor while shaking his head. “How rude.” Getting up, he straightened his suit and crossed the room, stopping right above me. “Let me make it clear. My son, as disappointing as he may be, is still my son, and over my dead body will I allow him to bathe with the lepers.”

He crouched before me, and Orson yanked my head so I’d meet Christian’s deadly stare.

“I could kill you, but what’s the point in that? A stray dog like yourself isn’t worth the bullet.”

“So why are you here?” I hissed, and in return, Orson gripped my hair harder. Son of a bitch.

“Why am I here?” Christian repeated my question with a bored expression. “I wanted to see you in person. To see how low my son has fallen. I must admit I’m surprised.” He rose back to his feet and walked farther into the room. With his back to us, he raised his hand, and a moment later, Orson stepped back, and I was finally free to stand.

I was ready to charge at them, but before I could rise up from my knees, the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed to the back of my head.

“As I said, I don’t plan to kill you, but after our last meeting, I’d rather take precautions,” Christian said while Orson clicked his tongue from behind me.

Walking toward the bar cart by the wall, he picked up the scotch. “Tell me something, Camilo.” Looking up from the bottle, he met my eyes. “It is Camilo, isn’t it?”

I kept quiet, and he snorted to himself.

“I know you must think I’m cruel, but I can’t blame you. After all, you grew up with a drunk of a father who spent more time in jail than he ever did at home.”

Of course he looked me up.

“Naturally, you’d believe he and I are the same. Well, you couldn’t be more wrong, considering that there’s nothing in this world that matters to me more than Shay-Lee.”

That made me snort.

“You think I’m joking?” he asked after pouring himself a glass and going back to sit on the bed.

“I think you’re a pile of shit.”

He shook his head. “I’m very disappointed with you. A part of me hoped we’d be able to have a rational conversation, but you keep proving me wrong, so how about we cut to the chase?” Locking eyes with me, he once again gave me that sickening smile. “You think you know my son, but you don’t.” He crossed his legs. “It’s only a matter of time until he’ll get tired of you and come back to me. You can say that I’m here out of courtesy. Imagine how devastating it will be once he leaves you.” He took a sip from his drink and then spat it back into the glass, his lips twisting with revulsion. “If you ask me, it won’t be much longer before he gets bored with whatever you think is going on between you. It happened with Miles and Jordan. To think you’re different is simply delusional.” He held the crystal glass in front of the light, examining its reflection. “You’re just one out of many toys he owns.”

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