Page 60 of Beautiful Venom

I take a sip of my whiskey. “What do the childless Osborns intend to do?”

“Bring back their bastard.”

“Marcus?”

“Correct.”

“I thought illegitimate children were a no-no.”

“They are. Unless it threatens their line. Their children are either dead or dying. Marcus Osborn is the only healthy male heir.”

“So they’re completely eliminating Serena Osborn, the literal reason they still exist, just because she’s…a woman?”

“Yes.” My father’s lips lift in a snarl. “Women have no place in leadership roles anyway.”

Says the man who was threatened by some female members of the Davenport clan after my uncle’s banishment, so he had them expelled from the country.

I swirl my glass as I lean back. “Marcus grew up like a thug in Stantonville, and I’m pretty sure he won’t accept the Osborns’ extended hand after they threw him and his mom out on the street.”

“They’ll find a way to rope him back in.”

“And you’ll allow it?”

“Not if I can help it. However, if there’s a general vote, we can’t deny their rights to bring back a male heir. It’s imperative we make a move before that happens.”

“What do you suggest?”

“He’s the captain of the Stanton Wolves, no? Make sure he doesn’t entertain the idea. Captain to captain.”

“He’s not on my level.”

“Then use someone to do the job for you. Jude or Preston or that Drayton girl who wants to marry you. Women are only objects to be used and an accessory to wear.”

Fucking moron.“Noted.”

“The Osborns can’t get back their standing. Not after the Armstrongs crushed and diminished their power recently. Everyone else is meant to be beneath us.” He stands up and pats my shoulder, his fingers sinking into the flesh. “Remember, Kane. No distractions.”

Images of soft skin, blushed cheeks, and smudged lipstick replay through my mind like an old-grained movie. I can still feel her bright-red lips around my cock and see the mess I made of that lipstick once I was done with her. Her jasmine scent—delicate, haunting—lingers in my senses.

A renewed craving floods over me, and a hunger like I’ve never experienced gnaws through me.

I shouldn’t have touched her again.

I shouldn’t have lost control over a nobody.

And she is a fuckingnobody.

But the way she looked at me, those hazel eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and defiance, provoked a primal part of me that I can barely repress.

But I’m done now.

I’m back in control.

“What do you think I am? An amateur?” I tell Grant with an expression that mirrors his.

He nods in approval, assuming we’re on the same side.

We stopped being on the same side the day he stopped being my father.

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