Page 105 of Vicious Intentions

“The big he-man makes a proclamation.” There was anger in Hunter’s voice.

Sighing as my father’s estate came into view, for the first time in my life, I felt remorse. “We will do everything in our power to make her happy.”

“Yes, we will.” Hunter’s words were said in reverence.

As Brock pulled in through the gates, a feeling of recoil settled in my stomach. I’d spent the last day preparing myself mentally. I wasn’t entirely certain that was possible.

“Are you certain about this?” Cristiano asked.

“Yes. It needs to be done.”

“He has loyal soldiers.”

I stared out the window, wondering where they all were. “Then we kill every one of them.”

“Whew,” Hunter said from the passenger seat.

“If you don’t want to be a part of this, then stay in the fucking vehicle.”

Hunter tipped his head over his shoulder. “Fuck no, asshole. Your father put us through shit as well. Hiring another hitman to track us down. Hell, what did that bastard do, hold the guy’s hand down and stick a hot poker against the top of his hand?”

Cristiano snorted. “Your father is a sick man.”

“Yeah, well now you see where I get it from,” I threw out.

“Then that wasn’t good enough,” Hunter continued. “Then the bastard had to hire a woman to keep tabs on Sage. What the hell did he think he was going to do?”

“Keep her as his own,” I told them. “What better way than to have his cake and eat it to.”

“I’ll repeat it. Your father is a freaking psychopath,” Cristiano huffed.

Brock pulled the vehicle to the front of house, killing the engine. This wasn’t a planned visit, although I’d had Marty check to ensure that my father was at home. With the man’s car in the driveway, it appeared the information was correct.

“Did you put a hold on the man responsible for working with my father?” I asked him before I climbed out.

“Fuck yeah, boss. He keeps insisting he has no clue what we’re talking about,” Brock said.

“They all say that shit,” Hunter reminded him.

“Yeah, I know, but Harry is a good guy. I know him pretty well. Just shocks the fuck out of me. Sorry, boss. I meant no disrespect.”

“Don’t worry, Brock. My father won’t mind sharing the details, including who worked with him.” I moved onto the aggregate driveway, taking a glaring look at the home I’d grown up in. I hadn’t returned since college. Any time that I’d met with my father had been in a separate location. Maybe the fucker continued to hold resentment that I’d forced him to retire at gunpoint. What did it matter? He had my brother murdered in front of me on purpose.

Because my brother had dared try and stop the horror that I’d grown up in.

I yanked my Glock into my hand, glaring at the windows on the third floor. My father had often remained staring out, knowing the second when I came home. That’s when the beatings began.

Why he hated me so much I wasn’t certain, but that also no longer mattered. I was my father’s son. Blood for blood. It was his time to die.

The other soldiers we’d brought with us remained closer. I wasn’t intending on making much of a surprise entrance. That was impossible given his tight security. However, I doubted he’d be expecting that I’d put a bullet between his eyes so soon.

He’d played the game well, a master manipulator. With the clues he’d left, it appeared that one of the Elite members that I’d gone to school with had been behind the charade. Jonas. I hadn’t talked with the guy since he’d been kicked out of school.

Finding out he’d landed in prison after his father had squandered the family’s wealth was unexpected. Sadly, additional fodder for my father’s vicious intentions.

The front door was unlocked, and I stormed inside, instantly noticing the quiet inside the house. As the soldiers piled in, I took a deep breath. What I found was nothing but bad memories.

And silence.

---