Page 52 of Twisted Empire

And how dare that smug bastard Doom’s Seed go behind my back and make his brutal threats to a man he obviously realized no longer had as much backbone as I did.

But Doom’s Seed wasn’t here for me to aim my anger at, and my father was. Even now, Dad was setting his jaw, ready to fight with me when he should have been fighting our enemy.

“I’m doing this to protect our empire,” he insisted.

“Bullshit. When was the last time you even attended one of the Devil’s Dozen meetings? They can all smell blood in the water, and I’ve been able to hold it together—by doing things my way. By showing a strong front. You let this slide, and everything we own is going to fall down like dominos.”

Dad shook his head. “I’ve had enough failures without losing my home and my son too. My decision is final.”

“Please, Dad,” I said, my voice breaking. “Really think about this. Listen to me.”

“I’ve already done all the thinking I need to.”

I dragged in a breath, an ache coiling in my gut. There was no getting through to him, was there? I’d already known that—it was why I hadn’t gone to him for advice about the situation in the first place.

The man who’d been the Storm, who’d raised me to follow in his footsteps, had stumbled right off the path he’d always taught me to follow, and there was no way I could yank him back onto it when he’d let his spirit be crushed.

And maybe it was partly my fault that he’d become so diminished, but I couldn’t see how it would have been better if I hadn’t prevented the full catastrophe that Paradise Bend could have been. So really, he’d destroyed himself.

It was time I stopped blaming myself for that and put the responsibility where it belonged.

He’d had the chance to build our empire, and I wouldn’t give him another opportunity to tear it down.

I squared my shoulders. “I’m not giving in, Dad. I’ve been taking your role as the Storm for years now. I’ve formed alliances and taken care of all the good, bad, and dirty business while you stayed holed up in here like a recluse. This final decision is mine, not yours. And I’m not giving up.”

Dad glared at me, a look that might have shaken my nerves when I’d been a teenager. But I wasn’t a kid anymore. I could hold my own now.

His jaw worked, but he could obviously tell I wasn’t going to back down. A sigh escaped him.

“You won’t get very far if you try to continue the crusade. I’ve told our local people not to participate any more in the conflict, no matter what you say. You can’t take on Doom’s Seed alone.”

Shit. I hadn’t believed he’d go that far. He’d underestimated our people—at this point, some of them would follow me no matter what he said—but others were still more loyal to him than to me. He was leaving me with even less manpower than I’d had after Doom’s Seed’s attacks.

“Don’t do this,” I said. “It’s a mistake—just as big a mistake as trying to take Paradise Bend was.”

Rage flashed across Dad’s face. I’d poked an even sorer spot than I’d realized.

“I suppose we’ll see who’s right in the end, won’t we?” he growled.

I’d gotten my stubbornness from him. He assumed I’d have to give in if I didn’t have the resources to continue.

And maybe some part of him really did believe he was doing it to save me.

It was no good arguing with him anymore. “I suppose we will,” I retorted, spinning on my heel, and stalked out of the room.

As I strode down the hall, my thoughts whirled in my head. I couldn’t let Doom’s Seed win. I might as well hand over our entire empire to the rest of the Devil’s Dozen and whoever they’d appoint as the Storm in my place once they’d picked over the pieces. But how the fuck was I going to stop him when I’d already been struggling with the resources I had?

I couldn’t even hope that going to the police would put an end to the conflict, not when Doom’s Seed had undermined our evidence so thoroughly. Even if they took a look at what we did have, I couldn’t imagine it’d be sooner than months from now when they might finally dig up enough to even arrest a few of his people.

I was on my own.

That thought stopped me in my tracks. I paused, thinking back over the argument with my dad—and the history at the center of the tension between us.

Seven years ago, I’d run to Paradise Bend when the ruling gangs there were in trouble so that I could help them turn the tide—at my own father’s expense. Those gangs had survived because of my help and grown more powerful in the years since. They might not compete on a global scale like the Devil’s Dozen members, but a local territory conflict? They were more than equipped for that.

And if I’d ever needed my friends to return the favor I’d done for them all those years ago, now was definitely the time.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

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