Page 62 of My Merciless Don

James laughed. “Oh no, honey, that wasn't why. I needed you to know what rejection feels like. It was your first lesson, and you learned it well. Now you'll go to the ends of the earth to avoid feeling like that again. You're welcome.”

I thought I knew how diabolical this man was. Clearly, I hadn't a ghost of a clue. He was evil incarnate.

And if I'm not careful I'll end up just like him.

I stole a glance at Marco. He was glaring daggers at James. Something in my chest warmed to see him have such a reaction on my behalf. Heaven knew, I didn't deserve it. Suddenly the pain disappeared and was replaced with towering blinding rage. All this time I had thought that I was the chess master.

It turned out that I was just a pawn.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

MARCO

So many moving pieces, it was hard to keep up.

James Martin had always been a legend in the community of criminals. His exploits were talked about at bar tables in criminal dives all across the country. He wasn't really my cup of tea - I wasn't a fan of his particular brand of theft.

Now, having met him in person, I realized he was nothing but a sociopath. I mean who was I to judge - but even on my worst day I wouldn't think of doing what this man had done to his own stepdaughter, to any of my kin. Although he had raised her, it was clear that Audry was nothing but a tool to him.

My heart ached for her. It ached for the life she could have had, had her father been less of a douche bag. I mean, I knew Claude had gambling problems before Amy was born, but to sell your child? That shit was fucked up.

I wanted to pick Audry up and just whisk her away somewhere quiet where she could cry and wail and just come to terms with the clusterfuck her life had turned into before her eyes. I also wanted to kill James Martin for making her feel so small, so unwanted, so insecure. I understood immediately why she had left me… was it just that morning?

It's been a long day.

From the corner of my eye, I sensed movement. I had my gun in my holster on my thigh and Audry’s hand was sliding down towards it. I thought about it for a moment wondering if I should stop her, but then again, why? If she needed to shoot that bastard in the eye, who was I to say she was wrong?

She took the gun and cocked it. Then she pointed it at her stepfather's head. You would think that he would show some other emotion than the vague amusement on his face, but no. He simply continued to watch her as if she was a slightly entertaining TV show.

“Are you going to shoot me, little girl?” He asked.

I was tempted to take my gun and blast him right then and there, but this was Audry’s decision.

“You know,” he said conversationally, “if I found out that someone had manipulated me six ways to Sunday, I would do the exact same thing that you are doing. So, congratulations for being predictable and following in my footsteps so faithfully. You're just proving that I'm right. You are ready to take over from me. And when there is a new king, what happens to the old one?” He spread his arms out, “Why he dies, does he not?”

Audry's hands were shaking on the gun. Tears were rolling down her face. I was willing to bet they were angry tears, but unlike James, she hadn't been playing a game. To her, he was still a father figure to her, the man who raised her. I opened my mouth to offer to do it for her, but then closed it again. This had to be her decision.

The gun went off, and I tensed, preparing for the fallout.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

AUDRY

Killing your father is not an easy thing to do.

It doesn't matter how cruel or sadistic he is, you still remember even the smallest kind of gesture, well just the fact that he gave you a home when you thought you would never have one. The shot that was meant to go into his brain, went into his wrist instead.

In another life I might have been impressed at the accuracy of the shot except he wasn't that far away from me, and he was literally willing me to take the shot. That was another reason for my reluctance. I was done being a pawn in in this man's games. If he wanted to die, he could find a way to do it himself.

Even after I shot him, the expression on his face did not change. He neither looked shocked nor pained. Maybe he was really a Cyborg. That would be comforting. “It's a pity you didn't kill me,” he said to me calmly, “it would have been so poetic. A story to be told for the ages. You would have established yourself as the one to watch.”

Suddenly I was very, very tired. Just done with him still trying to manipulate me. I couldn't even look at Marco. I was too ashamed that he had to witness that. Also, I was embarrassed at what I had done to him in the name of winning a bet. I should never have allowed myself to be pitted against my brother. I had had an awful feeling about it at the time, I hadn't wanted to do it. But then I had thought about being a disappointment to James - how he would look at me - that smile that said, ‘I forgive you, but you have really let me down’. I hated that look, did everything I could to avoid it. And now I knew it was all just part of his games. He trained me to be like this.

What a stupid fool I was.

I felt tears pricking my eyes and quickly blinked them away. The last thing I wanted to do was cry over James Martin. Crying over any man was bad enough, but it definitely was not going to cry over the man who bought me, manipulated me for his own ends, then pointed me like a missile back to my own family just to see what I would do.

I mean who does that?