“Josh.” His voice is slightly reedy, but there’s still some steel underneath that says,Don’t fuck with me.
“Hello,” I respond, hiding my surprise with a cool façade.
“Come closer.” He gestures. “Let me see you.”
The decades-old resentment bubbles up, but I paste on a smile, the kind I wear when I’m about to face opposing counsel. “Yes, Grandfather.”
When I stop two feet away from him, he looks me up and down, then stares into my unblinking eyes. I arch an eyebrow and meet his gaze. I won’t let an old, dying lion of a man intimidate me.
A moment later, a corner of his mouth tips upward. “As I expected. Sharp. Ruthless. A true Dunkel.” He practically purrs with pride.
My stomach churns.Fuck you, asshole. I’m a Huxley. I swallow the words—they won’t help me get what I want—but can’t stop my mouth from twisting into a sarcastic line.
Either Vincent doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “It’s good to see you again, Josh. I missed you.”
“I hope you understand that I can’t say the same.”
He chuckles, then gestures at me to take the armchair to his left. “Something to drink?”
I sit back and cross my legs. “No thanks.” If I could, I wouldn’t even breathe the air in this house.
“Suit yourself.” He pours himself some Yamazaki 55. I’d love a glass, but then, it’s Vincent Dunkel, and who knows what he might add to the whiskey. I bet he’s doing this on purpose, which makes me even more irritated and determined to turn down anything edible he offers. “You’re still in a snit because I didn’t toss her in jail.”
A snit?“Don’t minimize my life experience. Jail is the least she deserves.”
“She’s your mother, Josh. Her blood—the family’s blood—flows in your veins.”
“I’m not a Dunkel.”
“You keep telling yourself that. Just because you bear your father’s name doesn’t mean you’re really a Huxley deep down. There’s a great potential for ruthless violence in you.” He puts the bottle back. “I like that.”
I clench my teeth. It’s almost like he and Mom had a conference and conspired to call me a monster. “We can agree to disagree.”
He takes a sip of the Yamazaki. “I’m surprised you haven’t killed Zoe yet. I thought you were going to. You absolutely despised her.”
I narrow my eyes slightly. How much does he know about my past indiscretion?
“Even now I can see the murderous intent in your eyes. It’s too bad your father got custody of you. I could’ve honed you into a weapon, unrestrained by anything as cumbersome as the law or morality.”
“The lawismy weapon, morality my guiding principle,” I say flatly.
“See?” Vincent lifts his glass toward me and sighs.Your father ruined you. “Although…I do wonder why you decided to giveyourselfa weakness.”
“Weakness?”
“Your fiancée.”
A muscle near my eyebrow twitches. The urge to leap over and strangle him explodes in my mind, but I pull myself together.
“A very nice girl. Too sweet, though. As fluffy as cotton candy. Tug at her a little, and she rips apart.” Hetsks. “You like her, don’t you?”
I pin him with an icy stare.
He smirks. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
“If you are such an observant man, why don’t you stop your children from fighting and creating so much collateral damage?”
“Can’t stop the rule of nature—survival of the fittest. I will not let someone weak control the empire. Speaking of which…” A hint of true affection warms his smile. “There’s a person I want you to meet.”
