Page 15 of Vengeful Union

These past few months, I have studied this bastard. I’ve learned everything there is to know about him. I’ve let him dig his own grave. Now, I’m going to get my revenge. I’m going to break him. Take everything away from him.

“Take her,” he tells me, panic flavoring every word. “She’s worth more than the fifteen mil. A hell of a lot more. You take her, and we’re even.”

He’s in for a fucking surprise if he truly believes that taking the ice princess will make us even. Nowhere fucking near it. I want to ruin him, break him. And when he’s lost all he holds dear in this world, I’m going to kill him. I’ll enjoy watching the life leave his eyes.

What kind of man sells their own daughter? I came here with the intent of taking her anyway, having truly believed it would be the way to bring him down. But now? Now, taking her isn’t high on my list, but I’ll still do it. She could be useful. Not only does she stir something inside of me, but she’s too aware of everything going on around her. Too calm to not know what her father has been doing.

The woman in question is glaring not only at her father, but at me. Jesus. Balls of fucking steel.

“Carter,” I snarl at the arsehole, who’s still cowering on his knees before me. He once again fails to stop the flinch. “You and I are far from done.”

His eyes widen as the color drains from his face. “What?” he whispers.

“You heard.” I’m not in the habit of repeating myself. Especially not with this motherfucker.

“But...” He shakes his head. “What about the debt?”

My fist smashes into his face. “You owe me, Carter. More than you’re able to afford. From this point forward, you’re my bitch.”

His teeth chatter against one another with the force of the blow. His body sways forward, but he rights himself, his eyes wide and filled with trepidation. But his pride surfaces, giving him the bravado to laugh. “Bitch?” He shakes his head. “No, the only bitch here is her.” He nods toward his daughter. “You don’t want her, that’s fine. You’ll have your money by the end of the week.”

An uncontrollable rage hits me, and I lash out, taking that anger out on the piece of shit in front of me. I beat him with my fists and feet, not once letting up.

“Do you want to kill him?” The dryness of that husky voice has my rage stumbling.

I stand, smoothing out my suit jacket, and turn to the woman on the bed. Her lips slant to the side.

“Would you give a shit if I did?”

She crinkles her nose. “He’s my father,” she says, as if that’s supposed to answer the question.

“And?”

She shrugs. “If you kill him, his men will retaliate.”

I stare at her. I was right; she knows things about his organization. But the question is, just how deep is her role in it? “Again: and?”

Her lips twitch. “I mean, for all his sins, do you really think beating him to death is the way to go?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Just how many of his sins do you know about?”

She doesn’t answer me because the arsehole in question groans from the floor. “You’ll die for this,” he hisses at me. “Mark my words, Finn Gallagher, you will pay for this with your life.”

I know my smile is sadistic and taunting. “Bring it on,” I warn him, then raise my foot and bring it down onto his temple, instantly knocking him out.

With purpose, I move toward the bed. Destiny Carter is an enigma. Something I don’t like. I had nine months to do my research. I learned everything there was to know about the Carter’s, and yet nothing prepared me for her. She doesn’t cower as I approach her. Instead, she holds her head high and watches each step I take.

The moment I see her wrists, I know Carter’s death is going to be painful. Dried blood coats the rope, and her skin is broken and rubbed raw—no doubt from her attempts to free herself. She releases a hiss when I untie the bindings.

Her gaze collides with mine, and I see rage, hurt, and worry in those beautiful emerald eyes. Even with all those bruises marring her skin, and her blonde hair full of grease, she’s stunning. And there’s no fear. Not a single ounce of it. This girl has more balls than most of my men. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve been in a room with a woman and not had that woman scared of me.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll have her. She’ll be mine to own, dominate, and control. Once I’ve had her, then I’ll decide what to do with her.

“Let’s go,” I demand, turning on my heel. I want to get the fuck out of here before Carter’s men return.

I hear the rustling of bedsheets, followed by a thud. Turning around, my stomach drops when I see Destiny on the floor. Her hands press down on the carpet as she tries to push herself up, but she collapses.

I lift her into my arms and bite back a curse when I feel just how weak and frail she is. How fucking long has she been tied to the bed? Has the prick been feeding her? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.

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