Page 84 of Cruel Throne


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Rafe’s jaw drops. “You’re dismantling a billion-dollar company.”

“Brick by brick,” I reply.

“And for what? Revenge? Or because you’re still in love with her and want her to come crawling—”

“Back off,” I snap, whipping my gaze at him.

He raises both palms. “I’m not judging.”

“You are.”

“A little.”

“Well, don’t.”

Rafe sighs and grabs a second glass from the shelf. “You know, you’ve always been unhinged, but recently, this past week? It’s like watching a Greek tragedy, yet I’m not even sure if you’re the hero or the villain.”

“Villain obviously,” I respond, reading another report. “And thanks.”

“Not a compliment.”

“Didn’t ask.”

He sets the glass down and plants his hands on my desk. “Lorenzo. Seriously. You can’t keep doing this. She made her choice.”

A hot pulse flashes through me.

“Shut up,” I growl, standing slowly.

“You need to move on,” Rafe says softly.

I stare at him.

He stares back.

The silence crackles.

Then I laugh.

“Move on?” I repeat. “You really want to do this? You really want to piss me off?”

He hesitates.

Exactly. Then rolls his eyes. “You’re a dick.”

“Go home,” I say, dismissing him with a flick of my fingers. “But don’t forget to get me what I asked for.”

He lingers for a moment, searching my face.

Then he sighs, grabbing his coat. “Fine. But, Lorenzo . . . be careful. When you blow up someone else’s empire, make sure you don’t take yourself down with it.”

I grin. “Oh. . . that’s the fun part.”

He shakes his head and walks out, muttering something about therapy. The moment he’s gone, I pick up the file again. Victoria’s face stares back at me.

My chest tightens.

I brush my thumb over the image.