“I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that,” I mumble.
My eyes flash to Jude who’s smiling and itching to do what he does best. Pain is his game, and manipulation is mine.Hell, maybe I’m more like dear ol’ dad than I realized.
Jude smacks him with the back of the gun, but not hard enough to knock him out. I stand and move to his other side, lifting him to his feet by his arm before jabbing him in the ribs. Honestly, I don’t need to because I know Jude can handle this part, but I feel if I don’t step in, Barron will end up dead, and that’s not something I want to tell Arloe. That her father is dead and I let it happen.
The moment I release my hold on him, he hunches over and lets out a cough.
“It still won’t happen.” His voice comes out strained and hoarse.
“Look,” Jude starts, moving closer to Barron than he already is. He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit and pulls out a smaller envelope, and slaps that on the desk as well. “How much do you love your daughter, Barron?”
Barron and I both seize up at the mention of Arloe, but unlike Mr. Harway, I manage to keep my composure.
Never show them you care.
“What does my daughter have to do with this?” he seethes.
“Open it.” Jude points his gun at the envelope.
Barron removes a stack of photos, and my heart rate pulses faster. Images of Arloe stare back at me. Pictures of her in the bookstore, outside her apartment building, at the club during Emilio’s release party, in his office with me between her thighs, even in my game room last night as I railed her from behind.
“My brother is already fucking your sweet little girl, don’t make us do much worse. Sign the contract, and all he’ll do is make her come, and you’ll get to see her for Christmas.”
This fucking asshole. I’m going to kill him and drop him at my father’s feet.
They’ve been watching me, put cameras in my house, and violated the agreement we made just moments before getting on that damn plane.
My way, this was supposed to go my way.
“Don’t and, well, I’m sure you can guess what happens to your precious daughter.” Jude stares at me, though, his words more for me than Barron. “We’ll ruin you, your name, and what chance you think you have at running for office, and we’ll end up acquiring your company anyway.”
I glare at my brother, wanting nothing more than to rip his head from his body. But I maintain my composure.
“Just sign the papers, Barron,” I chide.
“I won’t.” He raises his chin and glares at us over the bridge of his nose.
I nearly flinch, his words pissing me off. But it’s more about the shit my brother is pulling to undermine me. We had a deal, and he’s gone against his word. But most importantly, he threatened Arloe’s life, and her bitch of a father just signed her death note.
Anger takes hold, and I swing my fist directly at Barron’s nose. Blood oozes out, running past his lips and down his chin, and it makes me remember why I do this. Why I put up with my dad’s shit.
I knew I was different from a young age, it just took me years to figure out how. I’m not a sociopath or anything, I just enjoy hurting people and I enjoy control. I have a conscience and think about all I do, but the pleasure I get from it outweighs the thoughts of feeling bad.
Seeing someone look up to you in fear as you stand over them or hear them beg you to stop is a high you can’t find anywhere else. It’s exhilarating, which is exactly why I moved it into my bedroom play.
Celeste was the one who helped with that. She made sure I had control over my emotions and taught me how to get what I wanted in a healthy way and when to stop. But here in my world, there are no rules.
With the thoughts of Arloe pushed to the back of my mind, I pummel this piece of shit. Barron uses his arms to try to shield his face, but it’s useless. With every punch I land on his body, his arms move to that spot, giving me an open shot to his face.
I swing again, connecting with the peak of his cheekbone. The same diamond rings that dug into Jude’s flesh hours ago now slice through Barron’s. His skin splits, creating a new stream of blood trickling down his face.
When I rear my fist back again, I feel his blood fling off my rings and hit the side of my neck. For a brief second, it makes me stop and think. I’ve never been this messy with something as important.
And then all of the pictures down the hall make me remember who the fuck this is.
Arloe’s dad.
I step back and wipe my hands on my shirt, ready to voice another threat, but Jude beats me to it.
