Page 13 of The Broken Queen
I didn’t respond.
He already knew, and there was no use in making myself look like an idiot.
His laugh trailed down my spine and curled inside my gut, making me want to punch him.
“Which means I can still use you as I see fit. If I asked you to go there right now and pull her out of Adrian’s arms, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
My lip curled back as I stepped closer. “Not because you asked me, you motherfucker. I would do anything to protecther! Let’s just be clear, it’s not because you asked me to. I’d let you die if I could.”
He stood toe to toe with me now. “You’re never going to be the fire in her life, Giovanni. It’ll never be you. You’re a safety net. Stars she once looked at and thought were mesmerizing, but mark my words, she’ll choose your brother.”
“What’s going on here?” The door opened behind me right as my fists curled, and I stepped closer to Scotty. I wanted to hit him.
I wanted to kill him.
My mother’s voice, however, was soft, and it reeled me back with a sharp tug. I’d never do any of that in front of her. I stepped away from Scotty and left him standing there in the hall, while the anger in my soul surged like a thunderhead and buried all the hope I’d somehow gathered when my brother promised to relinquish his hold on her.
“Gio, are you okay, honey?” My mother slid her hand over my back and rubbed soothingly.
She’d done that gesture ten thousand times since I was a little kid, but for whatever reason, now it just hurt.
“I need to talk to Dad.”
My mother’s blue eyes narrowed on me, but she nodded. “He’s in the study.”
Walking through our living room, and beyond the stairs, towardthe kitchen, I found my father tucked away in a small office. My entire life, the room had been bloated with books, packed along each shelf, and even a few piles had littered the floor. Green vines of plants stretched along the glass windows, and a beautiful view of the back property stretched for miles, all green grass and tall trees.
Now, it was bare. All the books packed away; the green vines had withered and died. Even the view outside his window was bleak. Still, he sat at his empty desk with his laptop open.
“Dad.”
His amber eyes lifted and softened as soon as he saw me.
“What’s wrong?”
I glanced around the room. “You’re already packing?”
His chin dipped as he slid away from the desk and stood. “We need a fresh start.”
“Kingston and I are staying, we told you that,” I argued as that anger surfaced and threatened to explode.
My dad didn’t take the bait; he merely sighed. “I understand that, but this place is too big for us anyway. It’s time we start looking out for our own family.”
“This is our family,” I argued, “You raised us to?—”
He waved his hand in the air. “I know how I raised you, and I’m telling you it was wrong. My sister, her husband, and kids, that’s our focus. My mom and step dad. My family. Your family. That’s what’s important.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Kyle has nearly died because of his loyalty to you, several times over if my memory serves.”
Dad stepped closer. “Kyle has nearly died because of his own actions. He chose to involve Scotty in this, who brought in the Adessos. I’m cutting ties. We’re out.”
The silence between us stretched as I watched him slowly move back to his chair. I wanted to scream a million other things at him, but none of it would matter. All that mattered was ensuring Presley was safe.
“What proof do you have that Markos is dead?”
His head snapped up, his thick brows curving into a line against his forehead. “What do you mean?”
I tugged at the hair tie around my wrist, lightly snapping it against my skin.
