Page 228 of Kiss the Villain

One of his men hesitates, looking at Grant. When he doesn’t object, the guy lights my cigarette.

“You think you’d still be his favorite if he knew you were gobbling cock?”

“It’s one cock, actually.” I exhale a stream of smoke. “But no, he wouldn’t approve. Not that it matters.”

“You’re not even ashamed?”

“Of what?”

“Being a lesser fucking man.”

“For preferring dick?” I chuckle, slow and deliberate. “You actually believe Vencor’s bullshit about how being gay makes someone ‘imperfect’? Oh, Grant. I hate to say it, but Dad was right—you really are an idiot.”

Grant grabs a gun from one of his men’s holsters and points it at me.

“My.” My grin widens. “Poked the daddy issues?”

“You know, I never liked you, Kayden.” His voice is low, simmering. “You always had things easy. Rachel was abused. So fuckingwhat? She wasn’t driven to her death like my mom. And you always had her, didn’t you? Herandanother mom. Meanwhile, Dad liked you for some reason I’ll never fucking understand. No matter what I did, he always put you first.Always.I should send you to join him.”

“Wouldn’t you be jealous if Dad and I reunited in Hell without you?” I let the smirk stretch across my face. “Though even if you joined us, he’d still like me better. Want to know why? Because, unlike you, I never begged for his attention like a desperate little bitch. Iearnedit. Till the day he died, Harrod respected me. He never respected you.”

The click of the gun echoes, and I close my eyes.

I guess Gareth and Jethro are far enough now.

Still, I doubt Grant will pull the trigger. He knows he can’t control my side of the business if I’m gone.

But then again, maybe I pushed him too far.

And his daddy issues aren’t adorable like Gareth’s, they’re destructive. Like the way he raised his son to be ruthless, as if Harrod’s ghost is still on his shoulders telling him exactly what to do. So, just in case, I don’t want to have my last thoughts filled with Grant or Harrod.

Bright eyes rush through my mind, ethereal green eyes that pierce through me with every look, full of life and something I could never quite reach. I picture his smile with the dimples that always tightened my heart, like he was a force I couldn’t control but couldn’t stop wanting.

I fall into the memory of how his breath would catch, a soft sigh escaping him when I ran my fingers through his hair, the way he’d close his eyes in a kind of surrender.

I picture him asleep in my arms, his face relaxed, his breathing even, holding me close like he never wants to let me go.

And I feel peace.

“Kayden!”

For a brief moment, I think I’m conjuring up his voice, but then again, he doesn’t sound this frightened in my head.

Never frightened.

I open my eyes and, sure enough, Gareth is running toward me.

What the?—

My eyes stray to Grant, whose gaze shifts between us, his lips curling into a smirk as realization dawns.

He knows.

And he’ll kill Gareth, not because he has to, but to teach me a lesson. To make me feel the same anguish he endured when Dad killed his girlfriend.

“I knew you were lying! I fucking knew it!” Gareth screams, his voice raw and thunderous as he lunges for a gun on the ground.

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.

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