Fuck you.
I grin. “Our son will inherit the business. Unfortunately, you won’t live long enough to see the day. He won’t even know about you. The day you’re gone, you’ll be forgotten, your memory wiped away forever. You’ll leave nothing behind, not an heir or a legacy. It will be as if you never existed.”
He makes a choking sound and flips another page.
You may die before me.
“That’s true, but at least my name will live on through my son. I won’t be dumped in a shallow grave without a headstone.”
Fury contorts his features. He claws at me but misses. His face only grows redder as I stand there and laugh.
An eerie quiet falls over me. Instead of stabbing that pen through his ribcage and straight into his heart, I grab it and shove it into his hand. “How does it feel, Teszner?”
His knuckles turn white around the pen.
“Go on.” I take my knife from my holster and push the tip under his chin, making sure he feels the sharp point. “Why don’t you write that down?”
His hand flies over the paper, the pen leaving a hole in the page from the pressure he applies.
This isn’t over.
“No,” I agree. “Not yet. And I’m going to enjoy every second to the very end.”
He throws the pen at me, but I easily avoid the pathetic onslaught.
“That’s right. Throw a hissy fit all you like. There’s not much else you can do.”
Fisting his hands, he shakes with anger.
I head toward the door. “I’ll catch you later.”
When I leave, dark satisfaction fills me. I’m not going to lie. I’m relishing every minute of breaking him, and I’m not going to rush it. No, I’m going to drag out his demise. I’ll revive him as many times as necessary to keep him breathing until I decide when it’s time for Leander Teszner to blow out his last rotten breath.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Tatiana
* * *
The big party is today. Penelope had a few dresses sent over for me to choose from. I’m flipping through the evening gowns that hang from a portable clothes rack in the lounge when Dante walks in.
Surprised, I smile. “I thought you had a meeting.”
“I do.” He walks over, cups my nape, and pulls me in for a kiss. “With you.”
“You want to have lunch? You should’ve warned me. I would’ve made something you actually like, such as lasagna.”
“Yes?” His voice is gruff as his heated gaze homes in on my lips. “What is for lunch?”
“Carrot and sweet potato casserole.”
He winces. “Poor Noah.”
I laugh. Yep, carrots have definitely never been one of Dante’s favorite vegetables.
Brushing his thumb over my nape, he kisses me again. “It’s lucky for me I’m not having lunch at home.”
