Page 9 of Bad Blood

Dad notices and looks straight at me.

However, I keep walking in silence. I only speak when spoken to.

That’s my plan for the year that I’m here.

Dad gets up from the sofa and rushes toward me, catching up before I take the stairs.

“Chad, I need to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I got the owner of the grocery store to drop the charges. Selena and I will be away for the rest of the month. I don’t want any more problems from you while I’m gone.”

Motherfucker. All he cares about is his fucking new wife, who shouldn’t even be here.

“Whatever,” I scoff.

“That’s all you have to say?” He quirks a hard brow, and as I stare back at him, it’s like looking at the older version of myself. I got Mom’s silver-blue eyes, though. Thank God. I wouldn’t like to see the world through his debauchery.

“What do you expect me to say?”

“Thank you would be a start.”

“I’m not grateful. We both know you got rid of the charges because if I went down for that, you’d look bad.”

If I were someone else, those charges would never have been dropped. I ran my car into the window of that store because I took a bad mix of drugs.

As bad and fucked up as I am, I own my fault in the matter because I know I shouldn’t have been driving. I wouldn’t have if Ilya had told me he’d mixed hardcore shit with the usual concoction.

Dad stiffens and intensifies his glare at me. “So you would have preferred a charge to taint your already colorful record?”

“I don’t care.” I smirk. “My future is already written in the stars.”

It is.

My life was already designed before I was born. I’d go to Raventhorn Academy and move on from there to their university to study accounting. When I graduate college, I’ll be working in my father’s firm, which serves Aleksander Ivanov, the Pakhan of the Komarovski Bratva and leader of the Knights.

I will live for and work for the Bratva until I die.

That is how my life will be, no matter what I do. All I can change is how rough or smooth the journey will be. It’s like a choice between a slow or fast death. Both lead to the same result.

“Are we done?” I level him a stare.

“No, we’re not done, son.” He shakes his head and lifts his chin higher, so we’re eye to eye. “I mean it; I don’t want any trouble from you. Yes, your future is already written in the stars, but remember, I own your ass until you graduate from the academy. Your inheritance is in my hands, and if I don’t see fit to give it to you, you’re not getting shit.”

Selena chooses that moment to walk up to the doorway. I hate it when she does that—listening in.

It’s always at points when she knows my father has some element of control over me, and I’ve been put in my place.

She’s not the evil stepmother and doesn’t attempt to replace my mother, but she’s evil in other ways.

My mother hired Selena when she came in off the street, knocking and begging for food. Selena spat on that kindness when she started fucking my father.

The fact that she lives and breathes in this house irritates me. I would tell her just that, too, but I always hold back because I know my mother would never want me to speak to her that way in her state of pregnancy.

“Are you listening to me, Chad?” Dad asks in a stern voice.

“Loud and clear.”

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