Page 96 of Filthy Little Regrets

Silly wife.

And last night, she gave in again, letting me stay inside of her for hours, until biology demanded we part. I regretted having to leave bed this morning without worshipping her body, but dread loomed over me as soon as I woke. Quarterly board meetings are the bane of my existence. It means hours of listening to presentations I don’t give a shit about and spending far too much time with Darius.

Normally, I would have told Dad to go fuck himself for insisting we ride into the city together, but I don’t want him to hand my sisters over to Vito because I pissed him off. I can typically endure being around him at Rex Technologies, because there’s space to escape, but there’s nowhere to hide in the back of the town car. The air in the cabin thickens around me. Memories of every time he forced me into a cage, every time he punched me, every time I heard my mom cry. They’re all clawing at the surface, desperate to break through.

My fists clench and my heart hammers. I would love nothing more than to watch the light leave Darius’s eyes, but going to prison for murder would leave the girls vulnerable. Vito is already closing in. They’d be ripe for the taking, and Mom wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Dad clears his throat, looking at me with as much affection as one does shit on their shoe. “Are you going to tell me where my family is staying?”

And risk him convincing them to go back home? “No.”

“You can’t protect them forever, you know.”

I’ll protect them as long as I can. “What’s the plan for today?”

Pursing his lips, he seems to internally debate whether to keep pushing, but ultimately sighs and lets it go. Fornow. “Malik is going to make a motion at the board meeting, and I want you to vote against it.”

“What’s the motion?” I ask.

“I’m getting a little tired of you questioning me,” he snaps, fingers tightening around his tumbler of coffee.

Once upon a time, the angry spark in his eyes would have me cowering, but I’m not afraid of him anymore. His yellowing bruise is just a reminder of how much things have changed. “Would you rather me ask you a question now than at the meeting?”

His teeth creak with how hard he’s grinding his jaw as his focus lands on Blake, the driver, who is abnormally stiff. As if the tension has made him keenly aware of the bomb that could detonate in the back of the town car. I’m sure Darius would love to hit me, but he’d never do it with someone around to witness it. Then there’s the bit where he hasn’t been able to land a solid punch for years now. It’s amusing to watch the man that used to terrify me realize he can’t do a damn thing.

Knowing my indifference pisses him off, I simply take a sip of my French roast, eyeing the passing buildings and pedestrians. Cassia should be on her way to work by now.Did she remember to eat?I grab my phone and send a message to Kyle, my personal assistant.

Can you order a burrito and coffee?

KYLE

You got it, boss.

Thanks.

I pocket my phone and look at my dad. “Well? What’s the motion?”

“He wants a publicity moment. Rex Technologies funding the NYC Techie Teens and doing mentoring.”

That sounds...like a smart business move and a goodway to give back to the future generations of tech leaders. “And why are we blocking it?”

“Because I fucking said so!” he shouts.

Blake flinches, and his gaze flits to meet mine in the rearview. There’s no telling what he’s witnessed in the few years he’s been with us. My dad isn’t exactly known for being kind.

“Rex needs the good PR. Especially with what happened with Altitude Tech.”

The thriving startup we acquired and then quickly dismantled, folding in the tech that advanced our established services and killing the innovative parts that barely posed a threat. It was a pointless acquisition, but Dad’s stuck in his old ways, too determined to be the king, that he’s taken to eliminating companies that would never be able to threaten ours.

I made sure the guys who started Altitude were well compensated, setting them up for the rest of their lives, and had them sign an NDA. But the sting of watching their hard work be broken apart had them going to war on social media, breaching the contract terms. Most of the fuss has died down, but with the new trending hashtag #rextechsucks, we could use some positive news stories.

Or we could let the empire burn.

“Fucking techies,” he growls, eyes narrowing to slits. “I’ll handle them.”

My chest tightens and protectiveness surges through me. I’ve seen how he deals with things that irritate him. “The lawyers can deal with it.”

Dad searches my face, his lips cutting into a vicious grin. “Vote down the motion, and I’ll let the lawyers handle it.”

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