“You brought your bodyguard with you,” I surmise, remembering the mess he left for me to clean up.
Death doesn’t scare me, and my hands have plenty of blood on them. I don’t remember all the dead bodies I am responsible for, either by my own hands or by another’s hands, but I remember every innocent life that has been needlessly lost. I didn’t kill those two old men drinking at the bar, my bartender, one of my soldiers, or the taxi driver, but I have carried the weight of responsibility with me since that day. I never understood why. We didn’t keep cameras in the strip clubs, for obvious reasons, and whoever killed them left no trace. I knew it was a professional hit. But I never knew why or could find out who did it. At least that mystery is solved.
She nods, dragging her lower lip between her teeth for a second. “Did you…did you hurt him?”
I shake my head. “I never knew who did it or why.”
Her shoulders relax a little.
“You still should’ve told me. You had no right to keep it from me.”
Fire blazes in her eyes. “Are you for real?” she shouts before cussing and clamping a hand over her mouth. I glance over my shoulder, but there isn’t a peep from the other side of the bungalow. “Why the fuck would I tell you after that?” she continues. “I put aside your cruel treatment of me in Vegas to do the right thing for my unborn child, but after witnessing you torture and kill a man, I wanted to run as far away from you as I could. There was no way in hell I wanted you anywhere near my son, and that hasn’t changed.” She tips her chin up defiantly, and I grace her with a wry smile as I climb to my feet.
I loom over her as I lay down the new law. “I don’t give a fuck what you want. He’smy son,and I have a lot of missed time to make up for.”
She scrambles to her feet, inching away from me.
I flash her a deadly smile.
“You’re dangerous, and I want you nowhere near him.”
“I am, but there is nothing you can do to stop me. I will drag you through the courts if I have to.” Hell will freeze over before I’d publicize her and my son in such a blatant way, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“You can’t do that!” she cries.
“You can’t keep me from my son. I won’t hurt him,” I add, seeing the abject fear reappearing on her face. “I will protect you both, but I can’t do that from New York.”
Her brows pucker as suspicion creeps into her tone. “What exactly are you saying?”
“You have this weekend to pack up your shit. Rowan and you are moving to New York with me.”
19
SIERRA
“The hell we are,” I tell him. Has he lost his ever-loving mind? “You don’t get to show up here and start dictating things to me.”
“You better start listening carefully, Sierra, because I am not in the habit of repeating myself.” I’m not sure if his cold tone and emotionless expression is better or worse than the naked rage which contorted his face when he first showed himself. “You will not keep me from my son, and you are in no position to argue with me. You lost that right the day you fled New York without telling me the truth.”
“I’ll go to the cops,” I blurt. “I’ll tell them what I saw.”
He barks out a soft laugh, and I’m grateful he’s careful not to wake Rowan. Not that I’m telling him that. “The cops won’t touch me. There is no evidence.”
“I’ll tell them what kind of man you really are.” It’s a weak argument, and we both know it.
“What kind of man is that?” he teases, fighting a smile, and I want to ram my fist in his smarmy face.
“The kind who hides his criminal activities behind legitimate businesses. I’ll tell them how you have strategically targeted up-and-coming tech companies to foster your agenda, like using your staff to invade people’s privacy,” I snap, hating that I have just let him know I have kept tabs on him over the years. He also knows my statement is conjecture because there is still nothing shady reported online. I’m grasping at straws, and I bet he can tell.
Frustrated, I cross my arms, wishing again that I wasn’t wearing such flimsy pajamas. He enjoyed drinking his fill earlier, and I’m embarrassed to admit how much his intense, heated stare turned me on.
I hate him.
He’s a predator of the worst kind.
Hiding in my house. Eavesdropping on my conversation with Dion. Spying on Rowan and me as we went about our normal nightly routine completely unaware of the monster lurking in the shadows.
He’s a cold-blooded killer and a man who can’t be trusted. He almost choked me to death earlier. My throat throbs, as if on cue, helping to remind me. I might feel guilty because I have denied him his son and I have denied Rowan his father, but I did what I believe was in the best interests of my child. Rowan is the priority, and he always will be. Keeping him away from Ben is still the right thing to do.
