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A part of me knows that prowling the streets and looking for excuses to get into fights isn’t the way to go, but I can’t seem to help myself. How else am I supposed to deal with the rage burning inside of me?
If I don’t feed the monster, he’s going to swallow me whole, and I’m not ready to give up yet.
Daniel exhales and holds a hand up. “I wasn’t trying to offend you, Carter. I was just pointing out facts. Your grip on the docks isn’t as strong as it was.”
“Facts?” I repeat, my voice rising toward the end. “You want to talk about fucking facts? How about the fact that you’ve only been here for a few weeks? Who the fuck gave you the right to comment on any of this? You don’t know shit.”
Daniel frowns. “I am head of the Blackthornes in Hong Kong. I know a thing or two.”
I draw my lips back and bare my teeth at him. “You don’t know shit. The way you run things there isn’t how we do business here.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow. “So, making an enemy out of everyone is how you’re going to expand the empire?”
I make a low noise in the back of my throat and cross over to him.
Tristan steps forward and gives me a slight shake of his head. I give him an angry look in response, but he doesn’t fall in line.
Everyone else in the room has their shoulders squared, looking ready to break out into a fight. Even in my enraged state, I know I can’t take all of them on, not by a long shot.
I’m not even going to do enough damage for it to matter, but a part of me still wants to try. If only to escape the vicious voice in my head reminding me of all the ways I’ve fucked up. First with Isabella and now with the rest of my family.
“Out of respect for Anita, I’m not going to make you eat your own words,” I tell Daniel with a cold lift of my chin. “Even if it weren’t for the fact that you’re related to her, I’d show you what a real Blackthorne behaves like.”
Tristan shoots me a warning look, but I ignore him. More and more of the men in the room are growing uncomfortable.
I know that my comment has struck a chord with a few of them because when it comes right down to it, Daniel Blackthorne is more of a Blackthorne than I am. He has my grandfather’s blood running through his veins, and I hate him all the more for it.
Are they already thinking of him as their savior? Do they think he is the rightful heir to the Blackthorne empire?
Fuck.
I pick up my half-empty whiskey glass and eye everyone over the rim. “Unless someone else has something to say, I suggest we stop wasting everyone’s fucking time and get back to business.”
“Carter—”
I set my glass down with a little more force than necessary, the thud reverberating inside across Tristan’s empty living room. “I didn’t tell you that you can speak.”
Daniel takes a step forward and lifts his head up. “I came down here to help you. I’m not going to be able to do that unless you let me.”
“I didn’t ask for your fucking help,” I snap, with an angry look in his direction.
And I’m not sure why Anita reached out to him in the first place. We were doing fine without Daniel, and we’ll be fine long after he loses interest and scurries back to whatever hole he crawled out of.
Daniel is only here because, like my enemies, he can smell the blood and is circling me.
As far as I’m concerned, the only difference between him, the Natoris, and the Philipses is that he’s trying to befriend me first.
I have no idea why he’s offering me sympathy and guidance, but I’m not about to let him stick a knife in my back and play the victim.
Daniel throws both hands up on either side of him. “Look, if we work together, we can figure out a solution to the Natoris and Philipses, and I’m sure we can figure out a way to make back some of the money we’ve lost—”
I cover the distance between us and punch Daniel squarely in the face. “I told you to shut the fuck up.”
Daniel covers his nose with both hands, bright red blood staining his fingers and the carpet beneath his feet. A few stunned looks are exchanged, but no one says anything.
Daniel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of tissues. His hands and face are a bloody mess, but it doesn’t give me the satisfaction I thought it would.
If anything, I feel worse, like I’m some kind of crazed animal who needs more blood to vindicate itself.
