Chapter 5
Felix
Tessa thought I couldn’t hear her when I left. But I would always hover outside the front door, just long enough to hear her scream, “Fuck you, Felix!” into the void of the house, where it echoed off the walls.
I didn’t move. Didn’t respond. There was a small, private thrill in knowing how tightly she clung to her indignation—how every word carried equal parts fire and fear. And maybe, just maybe, a little awe. I stayed long enough to savor it, letting the sound of her frustration settle in the air.
It was questionable judgement taking her as payment instead of her old man. The smarter move would have just been to take Howard, even if we couldn’t sell half his organs because they were fucked from years of being a drunk.
But after I saw Tessa on her hands and knees, I knew I had to have her.
It would have been so much easier if I could have just put her to work at the strip club. Broken girls like her usually blended right in, losing themselves under the lights and music. She would have earned back her debt quick enough shaking ass on stage, and I wouldn’t have to think about her every second of the damn day.
But Tessa wasn’t like the others. Too proud. Too angry. Too stubborn to bend the way I wanted. And that made me want to break her all the more.
I groaned and rubbed my temples with my knuckles. I really didn’t think this through. Now I would have to live with her, be tempted by her every time she walked into a room. The sound of her voice, the fire in her eyes, even the way she bristled when I pushed too far. It all scraped against my control like sandpaper.
I had gotten into this situation because of my grandmother.
My grandmother—God rest her soul—had unfortunately passed away a few months ago. In her will, she had left me a very expensive, and very abandoned, brownstone. The only clause? I had to take residency within 180 days or I lose my inheritance rights.
And even though the building looked like a piece of shit, it was already worth a fortune before renovations. There was no way in hell I’d let money like that go to waste.
The problem was, I’d waited until the end of the damn 180 days. Now I was scrambling, trying to get the place livable enough to count. I should’ve brought in a crew months ago, but I kept putting it off, too busy running my business, too distracted with everything else. And now, instead of contractors, I had Tessa—stubborn, sharp-tongued Tessa—standing in the rubble, armed with nothing but a rag and her spite.
There was something intoxicating about the way she squared her shoulders, glaring at the mess as if sheer defiance could scrub away a decade of rot. Most people broke when I pushedthem. Tessa dug her heels in, and every time she did, I wanted to see how much further I could push.
But the longer I thought about it, the more the bitterness crept back in. Rocco hadn’t lifted a damn finger, and he still got his payout clean and easy. Cash in hand, no strings attached. Hell, even my cousin had gotten a small amount of cash and my grandmother barely liked him.
Meanwhile, I was left with a crumbling brownstone and a deadline breathing down my neck. If my grandmother wanted to teach me responsibility, she’d sure as hell succeeded.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, slicing through the thought. I pulled it out, jaw tight, and saw the name flashing across the screen. Fucking Dino.
“What is it?” I barked into the phone.
There was something off about Dino that I couldn’t quite place my finger on.
Dino was great at gathering information. The kind of guy whose smile never reached his eyes, the type who listened more than he spoke, and somehow always knew more than he should. He was fiercely loyal to the boss, too loyal sometimes, but that loyalty made him invaluable. You could rely on him to get the job done, even if he had a way of keeping a little mystery in his movements.
“Hello to you too,” Dino said into the phone.
I rolled my eyes at the cheerfulness facade. “Dino, I didn’t answer to have a chat about who won last night’s game.”
“Oh, I’m not one for sports,” he said airily into the phone. “But I am one for information.”
I snorted into the phone, a humorless sound. “Then get to it. I don’t have time for small talk.”
“Well,” Dino said, as if he were talking about the weather. “I acquired some documents, and I found out some very interesting financial information about your businesses.”
My eyes narrowed. Every muscle in me tensed. “Interesting how?” I asked, voice low, controlled, but every syllable loaded with warning. I didn’t like surprises, but I never ignored threats—or opportunities, for that matter.
“Oh, that’s not something I want recorded,” he said, like he was declining a dessert menu at a restaurant. “Are you free to meet now?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting against the wave of frustration that threatened to spill over. “Where?”
“The warehouse by the docks.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I responded, and tossed my phone in the center console.
