Page 98 of Ugly Truths
And I’m going to savor it.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table, fingers loosely interlocked. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”
His gaze snaps up to meet mine, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Oh, I’m dying to hear this,” he says.
My mouth twitches.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” I reiterate quietly. “Cillian and several of my team members are stationed just outside this door. When I call him in, you’re going to hand him your phone. Then, he’s going to escort you back to your home.”
His brow creases. “And why, exactly, would I do that?” he asks, his voice laced with forced disinterest.
I continue as if he hadn’t spoken. “He is going to drive you home because you started developing a migraine during lunch and want to rest. Once you’re inside, you’ll have two options.”
He leans forward despite himself, unable to hide his curiosity—or perhaps his unease.
“The first option,” I say, holding up my index finger, “is that you accidentally take too many of your beta blockers, thinking it was your migraine prescription.” I nod to the pill bottle on the table holding the heart medication he’s been taking for a few years now. “You’ll pass peacefully in your own home, and the world will mourn you as a martyr.”
His shoulders stiffen, though his smirk remains in place. “And the second option?” he asks.
“The second option,” I answer, staring him dead in the eye, “is that we will drag you home and Cillian forces you to take them. You’ll still die, but there will be no martyrdom. I will spend the rest of my life burning everything you’ve built to the ground. The Wells name, the company, every ounce of respectability you’ve cultivated. I will destroy it all.”
The force behind my words seems to surprise him. He tries to mask it with a scoff, leaning back in his chair. “Do you think for a second I believe you’d go that far?”
A dark laugh escapes me, sharp and hollow. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Poison laces every syllable. “I’ve never been more disappointed to be a Wells or willing to torch it all.”
The insult burrows under his skin, and suddenly, he pushes back from the table, chair screeching. The mask of composure finally cracks. “How dare you threaten me—”
“Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”
My voice doesn’t rise, it sinks.
The sound fills the room and vibrates off the walls. My eyes remain locked on his. There’s no son in me now. Just the man he built doesn’t know has dragged secrets out of stronger men withonly this voice.
My father’s eyes widen, his fury momentarily eclipsed by something I’ve never seen before: hesitation. And then, slowly, he lowers himself back into his chair, though his glare never falters.
Power surges through me like an electric current. For the first time in my life, I hold all the cards. And it feels good.
“You have no remorse for what you’ve done and no plans to change. This ends now, one way or another.”
The same brown eyes that I stare at in the mirror every day glow with hatred. “I’m not the only one who has access to that information.” His voice is steady, but I catch the slight hitch in his breath. “If anything happens to me, they’ll release it.”
I smirk. “Liar.”
Uncertainty flashes across his face.
“I already combed through your personal servers,” I say with a flick of my hand. “Youreallyshould have invested in better security measures for those, like I told you years ago.”
His nostrils flare.
“But there’s nothing on them, which I assume was intentional,” I continue. “This company is the only thing you’ve ever truly cared about. You used it as a shield because if you burn, everyone burns. That’s always been your safety net.”
My father opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“You never trusted anyone else with that kind of power. That’s why Shaw never blackmailed you. You made sure there was no one who could destroy your stupid legacy but you.”
His eyes widen a fraction, and the muscle in his jaw flutters once before it locks back into place.
I examine my nail beds before speaking. “Now that we have that all cleared up—”
