Page 38 of The Boss's Possession

“What happens if you never find him?” Willow asked.

Carson pulled back and frowned as he looked at Willow.

“Don’t give me that look. You and I both know you’re not going to let this stand. I’m not a fool, Carson. I know who you are. I’ve known since the beginning and I know what you’re capable of. This man, whoever he is, got your attention.”

“I’m going to deal with it.”

“Why?”

“Because no one makes my woman cry. No one goes after my woman and gets away with it, Willow. You’re mine, I love you more than anything else in the world, and I promised your grandmother I would give you a good life. I would make you happy. Seeing you sob, heartbroken, I’m not keeping my end of the deal, and that is unacceptable. They will pay.”

Willow stared at him and then nodded. “Okay.” She pressed her head against his chest. “I love you, Carson.”

Oh, he knew she loved him in that moment. Willow had just accepted him for exactly what he was—a monster. A man who was going to find the one who had hurt her, and he was going to punish the bastard for it.

Chapter Ten

Carson stared at the man tied to a chair.

It had been two weeks since Willow’s fabric shop had burned down. The fire department had said the building wasn’t salvageable, and so he had people looking for the perfect building for Willow to rebuild, which didn’t take long.

He would have found this piece of shit sooner if it hadn’t been for his concern over Willow. Leaving her at the penthouse all day didn’t sit well with him. In the end, he had to ask for Miley’s help. The older woman had taken Willow back to her home, and they had sewing days. During that time, they made plans for the new shop, and what fabrics and haberdashery items they were going to order.

There was already a folder thick with ideas, and the frown on Willow’s face had been changed into one of anticipation. He already told her money was no object. The insurance company was already investigating, and he had people in place to make sure that wasn’t a problem. Willow didn’t cause this fire.

Staring at the bastard in front of him, Carson remembered him. He was a gambler, addicted to the tables, and when he ran up a debt so high, he had no choice but to deal with him. It had started with broken legs, broken arms, until he earned the money out of him, and then tossed him out on his ass.

The man was barred from all the casinos and private establishments he ran, including those he didn’t. His name got him what he wanted.

It would seem his addiction had sent him over the edge, and he’d reacted. He had heard of the news of Carson’s marriage, and it hadn’t taken long to figure out where his wife worked, or come up with a plan to torch the place.

The men had been called to an incident at one of the bars, which was why Willow’s shop had been exposed. The whole incident was rare and Carson knew it was never going to happen again, as he looked at the man quivering in the chair. They were in the basement of one of his casinos. Carson sat in the chair opposite as the man perspired profusely. He’d already pissed himself.

The stench was disgusting and Carson had every intention of removing his clothes before he left, so Willow never got a whiff of this scent. She deserved a lot better, which was why he wasn’t going to allow the cops to handle this. No, he already had an agreement in place, as they handed this piece of shit to him.

Getting to his feet, he moved closer, and then crouched down to stare up into the man’s eyes. He’d been trying to avoid eye contact, and now he was pissed off enough that he wanted the fucker to look at him, to see him, to know that he was going to be in a world of pain by the time he was through with him.

“Look at me,” Carson said.

The man whimpered and closed his eyes. He wasn’t doing as he was told, and Carson didn’t have time for this shit. Pulling out a blade, he slammed it into his foot, only stopping when the tip of the blade didn’t go further.

Screams erupted throughout the basement. Carson closed his eyes and relished the sound. It was rare for him to take this kind of pleasure. All his life, he’d fought to get where he was. He’d been more than willing to kill, to maim, to terrify. This man wasn’t leaving the basement alive. He knew that. Carson’s men knew that. The cops knew that.

There was no way he would allow him to live. If he did, there was a chance it would come back and hurt Willow. He couldn’t have that. Not on his watch.

Drawing the blade out of the man’s foot, he looked up into his eyes. There was now real terror staring back at him, and Carson smiled. This is what he wanted.

“I told you not to fuck with me,” Carson said. “You found the woman I love. The woman I would do anything for, and you took something away from her, and that has pissed me off. That shop belonged to her grandmother, and there’s no way for me to replace all those memories, so you know you’re going to die today. You cannot live. You cannot be allowed out of this room. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

Carson didn’t make it quick. He made sure the man screamed and begged.

As he did, all he kept hearing was Grandmother Lauren’s request that he do everything in his power to make sure her granddaughter got a good life, the best kind of life. By the time he was finished, there was nothing left of the man. He was dead.

Willow was his. No one attacked Willow, and he knew with his men present that there wouldn’t be anyone who didn’t know about it. The rumor would spread about what happened if you went after Carson’s woman. Willow would forever be safe.

He contacted the men he used to clean shit up, and handed them his clothes. The shock on their faces was something he wanted. He needed for them to know he meant business. If they came after Willow, they were going to get killed, and not in an easy way. It would take time, he’d be creative.

There were more clothes waiting for him in his office. Peter was there, as he always was.

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