His face contorts into a pissed grimace. A weak man who has spent his life in his father’s shadow, desperate to prove him wrong.
The only reason I tolerated him for so long was as a favor to his father.
It’s incredible how his own son lacks basic intelligence. No wonder his family business struggles. But it’s easier to blame others than take accountability.
“Who should take my place?” I ask, continuing this asinine conversation just to focus on something other than my heartbreak.
He squares his shoulders, straightening up to bolster himself. “Me.”
“Of course, because you’re so capable of ruling.” I shake my head, pointing a dismissive hand to his groin. “You can’t even control your dick.”
I always tell my men to find women they can build a legacy with, but I won’t interfere. Affairs are kept hidden, like the dirty secrets they are.
He flaunts them.
I will do his wife a solid by taking him out.
He has gotten on my last nerve for a long time, and my patience has reached its end. I endured him to keep myself and everyone else in check. A bit of competition keeps you focused, making you thrive.
“Says the man who made the bitch responsible for killing the Boss into your wife. You’re a disgrace.”
It’s not the blatant disrespect that enrages me, but him calling my woman a bitch.
“What the fuck did you say?” I cut the distance between us, ready to claw his jugular out, when something stabs my side, pain slicing through my flesh.
For a moment, I don’t understand what happened. I look down to see a knife embedded in my side and blink, my brain refusing to compute that this asshole tricked me and managed to injure me.
If it weren’t for the shock paralyzing me, I would have laughed.
Red drenches my shirt, the blood spreading like vines, turning it into a grotesque Pollock painting. Blood. So much fucking blood pours out of the open wound as he removes the knife.
He stabbed me. It shows how frayed I am.
My chest rocks with a cough, a coppery taste coating my mouth.
I grunt, ready to pounce on him, but my vision dots with the heavy blood loss. I stumble forward, dropping to my knees. Fuck, he hit something important.
“Too arrogant to even imagine I could take you down,” he spits, sliding the blade up his sleeve before rushing to the elevator and leaving me to bleed to death.
Quite ironic.
I never imagined my end because I was too busy living. Living meant I could get another chance with her, but that chance dwindles, just like my life essence.
My sole wish is seeing her one last time.
Kiss her lips.
Tell her I love her. Confess that I could regret everything, apologize for anything, but not for loving her so much that I needed to gift her something pure—something of mine she can love even if it’s not me.
My hands fall to the floor, where they lie in the pool of my blood.
I hear a ping, the sound distant, like my soul is traveling somewhere else, slowly freeing itself from my body. It’s followed by a piercing cry choked of despair as I crumple forward. I must be dead, and she is calling for me.
I am coming, mi sol.
I open my eyes when her palms cup my face, and warmth spreads through my icy insides. “Stay with me. Please stay with me.”
“I’ll always be with you,” I whisper, needing her to believe me.
