“You’re breaking contract!” She stomps her foot like a petulant child.
“No,” I pick up the decanter and a glass, watching as her eyes follow the movement. She frowns even more when I don’t offer her a glass too. “I made a deal with your uncle; your uncle is now dead. Your father has not renegotiated, leaving me free to do whatever the fuck I like.”
“You didn’t give him time.” She shoves her hands to her hips, “and now you’re marrying some uptight little whore. She doesn’t belong here like I do.”
I quirk a brow at her tone and whatever she sees in my expression has her shrinking away. Am I like the leaders that came before me? No. No I am not. A lot of people assume that’s a weakness but all it does is reel them in, let them feel like they’re safe before they’re in too deep with no way out.
I have just as much blood on my hands as all those that came before me, but where their kills came with screams, mine come with calculation. I never go into a situation without knowing the whole picture. How do they think I secured Olivia Lauder after all? Not only do I have a wife, I have her late father’s empire too.
“We would have been so good together,” She pouts, widening her eyes as she tries, and fails, to give me a puppy dog face that she should know would never work on me. I’m not easily manipulated, especially not by people like her.
I scoff at those words, sipping a little from my glass. The burn down my throat is almost as satisfying as sinking into a tight, hot body.
Placing the glass down, I check my watch, “You’ve taken enough of my time now, Miss Ware. I am expecting a guest so you should see yourself out.”
“Is ither?” She sneers.
My patience is sitting on a precipice, one wrong nudge and I’m not sure what I’ll do. Maybe bury her next to her uncle in that unmarked grave somewhere out in one of the meadows that surrounds the estate.
She must read my thoughts through my expression because she backs down, a placating smile stretching up her mouth. Her voice lowers and her body softens as she turns back into theladythe world knows her to be.
“Well,” Her hands run down her pink dress, “I guess I’ll see you at the wedding, save me a dance.”
And with that, she breezes out of my office, the sound of her heels grating on that last nerve.
I take the rest of my whiskey in one gulp, slamming my crystal glass down onto the desk hard enough it splinters, the crack running from base to rim. Impatience runs through me as I glance at my watch once more, seeing barely any time has passed so I choose to get up, exiting my office to wander thehouse. It’s brimming with staff, but no one is around, not in these parts at this time anyway. I can hear faint thuds upstairs as a bedroom is prepared for Olivia, can hear footsteps somewhere else but right here, I am alone.
This estate has been in the Farrow family for as long as our history has been written. The base where the organization first started.
Listed as Farrow Industries, we hide behind a guise of buying out businesses and flipping them to make a profit, we own several chains of hotels, and restaurants and bars but deeper than that is a river that fuels our lives. I couldn’t give two shits about the businesses tied to the Farrow name, as long as they’re making money, what I care about is the individuals that keep me powerful.
I own them all.
It’s dark and it’s dirty and it’s mine. It’s all I’ve known. I own the city and the people without them even knowing it’s me. I see it all.
Death is no rarity in my life, if I don’t see it at least once a day then it’s a quiet day but it’s always been this way. I know life no other way.
I let out a whistle as I bury my hands into my pockets, strolling casually through the house that sits atop the bodies of those who tried to stop us.
Death is lucrative. Death pays.
It’s why I have over five thousand hitmen under my employ, scattered across the globe. It’s why I own a database full of hits, targets and marks.
It isn’t just us Farrow’s that thrive off of death, there is a panel, a council if you will, that sit alongside me.It helps keep the organization off the radar, keeps us underground and all important decisions are made through votes. There are rules, laws that only we abide by, but it’s worked for hundreds of years and will continue to work for hundreds of more, with a few changes I plan to implement.
It’s one of those rules that has this wedding being prepared.
It’s obviously dated and not something that fits in today’s society, but nonetheless, we abide by it, meaning if I want to keep the throne I sit on, I will be marrying Olivia. It tells us we must marry within the first six years of leadership or lose the seat. Why? Fuck knows, but it didn’t matter much to me.
As I hit the foyer, I notice a number of my staff directing the moving people through the house, boxes and bags being ferried through the rooms and deposited upstairs.
It’s almost time.
My palms tingle with her almost in reach.
I knew the moment I saw Olivia that I wanted her. There wasn’t a question ofifbutwhenand the day is finally here. I gave her some time, it’s more than what I would give anyone else and now she belongs to me.
She signed that contract on the dotted line, placing herself right in my hands. The little broken doll will be fun to play with, if only to see how far I canpush.
