Page 126 of Fallen Empire
“So I took his grandson.”
My stomach twisted.
“And your friend—Knox, was his name, by the way—he’s the one who swiped the boy. He cost me a lot of fucking money with that one.”
I stopped breathing.
“Of course, I didn’t know it was him then. And he was too blind to see that I was in control… at the time. It wasn’t until a few gossip columns started flashing his face around. Jaxson Westbrook—Manhattan’s Billionaire Bachelor. I’ve lived here for years, waiting for the right time. Watching. But what I didn’t realize was that all the right pieces would fall into place without me even having to make a move.”
My mind was reeling.
Jaxson went by Knox?
Was that for security, or something more? How deep did this go? The more Aleksei talked, the more questions I had. But something he said stood out more than anything.
At the time.
Two little words. But they hit harder than the rest.
Because Aleksei wanted to sound invincible. Unstoppable.
But even monsters answer to someone.
“So if that was years ago… why now?” I asked, trying to piece together where Savannah fit into all of this. Why it was her head they wanted instead of Jaxson’s.
“Because the pieces were dumped in my lap,” he said, like it was obvious. “The second I saw Savannah here, my empty soul smiled.”
There was no sarcasm in his tone. No smirk. Just chilling, honest admiration.
“Jaxson did me a favor when he put a bullet through his skull. I only wish he’d done it sooner.” A pause. A beat too long. Then came the real gut punch.
“You see, I was supposed to marry Savannah. And take over Sinclair Holdings. Not that waste of oxygen, Bruce.”
Being married to Bruce wasn’t a walk in the park for her—
But I couldn’t imagine the life she would’ve lived married to this man. Aleksei didn’t seem like the type to use a woman as a punching bag. He was too calm. Too collected. Too cold.
“So why didn’t you marry her?” I tilted my head just slightly, letting the sarcasm bleed through. “Not her type?”
Another laugh echoed through the space—barely there. Dark.
“Let’s just say her father didn’t take lightly to me torturing my own blood.”
A beat passed. Just long enough for the air to shift.
“Or maybe,” he added, voice dipped in venom, “it was the fact that I made my own father watch while I slowly killed his only other heir.”
If I could see him, I was pretty sure he just shrugged his shoulders. Cruel was too kind a word for him.
Malevolent. Sadistic. Even those didn’t fit. He was the devil reincarnated.
Everything about him offered you a sense of warmth from the outside. False hope that he could be a protector.
Until the door locked behind you. Until the mask slipped. And by the time you saw what hid beneath it…
It was already too late.
“Well, I don’t think I’d want you to marry my daughter after that, either.” It’s all I could say. Try not to let the bile rise in my throat while remaining unaffected by his words.
