Page 4 of Ashes of Sin

Letting out a long sigh, I walk to the oak side cabinet and pour another two fingers of Macallan, then toss it back.

She might be innocent, but so was I. It’s only because of my grandparent’s rock-solid trust structure that I’m standing here today, a powerful man.

I remember the day I learned my father had attempted to blackmail my lawyer into paying my inheritance into his account.

I never would have seen a dollar if he’d been successful.

“That motherfucker!” I hissed, reading the email from my lawyer.

“Ring the cops. Have him arrested, Maddox.” Parker encouraged me when we were eighteen.

I shook my head.

“It won’t stick. You know that as well as I do. He’ll have high-powered officials in his pocket.”

“He’s right,” Zayne said. “Our fathers would do the same thing.”

“Fuck. It’s just not right.” Parker tossed a stone into the bushes as we walked along a path.

“One day,” I said, zipping up my jacket. “One day, I’m going to be a powerful man and kill him.”

“Dude really?” Travis asked, while Killian lifted his brow.

“Maddox,” he warned under his breath.

I ignored him.

Killian knows more than anyone how unstable that I am deep down. I supposed someone was bound to see the real devil within me, eventually.

Like father, like fucking son.

“Don’t know how yet. But I’m going to turn my inheritance into billions,” I declared. “Then I’m going to destroy him little by little until he takes his last breath.”

I meant every word.

I just didn’t know how.

I knew the path would be shown to me if I waited long enough. God knows I was getting impatient. At thirty-one, I’ve waited long enough.

I didn’t know it was going to come in the form of a twenty-two-year-old, blue-eyed brunette who was marrying my father.

But whatever.

I’m willing to do whatever it takes.

I could tear down his company and destroy everything he’s built. That’s way too easy.

I want to humiliate him.

I want to crush his spirit and make him beg for my forgiveness.

I drop my crystal glass on the silver tray and roll up the sleeves of my black shirt, exposing my tattoos, thick forearms, and Audemars Piguet timepiece. Propping my hands on my hips, I glance around my penthouse.

It’s time.

I may not be a phoenix, but when I die, my ashes will contain all the sins of my father.

And those of mine as I exact my revenge.

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