“Job, instinct, call it whatever the fuck you want.” He takes a step forward, pressing the gun harder against his chest. “Put your fucking gun down,” he repeats through clenched teeth.
Dad hums, cocking his head to the side. “Such a rebel, pretty boy.” He drags and presses the muzzle underneath Adam’s jaw. “Is she really worth getting your brains splattered on the ceiling for?”
Terror grips me for good this time. I pant, unable to control my body anymore.
I grip Adam’s wrist and pull him back. “Please, don’t.”
“If she wasn’t worth the world, you wouldn’t force me to protect her with everything I’ve got.”
Force him …
He’s right. He was forced to protect me, and he’s getting paid for it. I guess I should be fine with it and be grateful that at least I’m still alive because of him. I’m not worth risking his life for.
I sidestep, exposing myself to my father, and gently rest my hand on Adam’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Adam. You’ve done enough.”
“Go to your room,” he replies without taking his eyes from my father’s.
“What?”
“It’ll be enough when you’re safe and sound.” He looks at me, his dark eyes penetrating mine. “Go. To. Your. Room.”
Fucking coward.
Pointing a gun at his own daughter? He was already on my kill list, but that was before. Now, every rational thing in me burns away, and all I feel is red, pure, uncontrollable fury.
Good she left, because I can’t guarantee what I’m about to do.
“You’ve got balls, Mitch. Ordering my daughter to act contrary to my command is unheard of in my circle.” He draws back his gun, his eyes burning into mine. “Consider this your first and final warning.”
He sits back, plucks his cigar between two fingers, and lights it like we’re at a tea party. I throw Boris a sidelong look; he lowers the gun and resumes his waxwork pose.
“Get out of here,” Calvano says, returning his eyes to his laptop screen.
I step forward slowly, palms flat on his desk, eyes boring into his. Boris draws his gun again and levels it at me, but I don’t back down.
“Why will she die if anyone touches her?” I ask.
I need to know the truth. I need to know what kind of swamp she’s buried in without even realizing it.
“Not important to you,” he mumbles without looking at me.
“Look at me, you son of a bitch,” I hiss.
Slowly, his eyes raise above the laptop screen. Now, I’ve got his attention.
“I’ve got nothing to lose, and you keep feeding me half-answers,” I growl, the desk rattling under my hands. “You want me glued to her side, ready to take a bullet, but you won’t tell me why. So stop wasting my time and answer the damn question.”
He intertwines his fingers on the furniture and looks at me with those dead eyes.
“Some lives are held together by threads you don’t see. If one snaps, she’s the one who pays the price,” he hisses, as if savoring the sound of his delirium. “Well, now you’re bound to her too, but you claim you’ve got nothing to lose, so …”
“I will protect her with my life. Ifanyoneinterferes, there will be consequences. And they won’t be pleasant.”
He remains silent, and I hold his gaze for a few more seconds. Then, I push myself from his desk and walk myself out.
“Be careful, Mitch,” he says, stopping me mid-stride. “You don’t want me as your enemy.”
