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“I know you hate me as much as they do. Why are you here?”
“Because I keep my promises.”
He scoffed. “What bullshit. As if you’re the type to keep a promise like that.”
He wouldn’t know anything about honor or keeping promises. No matter how much he’d hurt my grandmother, she’d made me promise to visit him, even if it was for ten minutes.
The man fucking cheated on his wife and then murdered his mistress, and my grandmother wanted me to visit this bastard in jail.
Grandmother Josephine represented everything pure, kind, and loving in the world. Still, no matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t stop this jackass from turning her son into a twisted version of himself.
She once told me the reason she stepped between my parents, as much as possible, when my asshole father tried to beat my mom was that she had to pay her penance to God for being a bad mother.
She never stopped blaming herself for all the suffering the man currently before me and, in turn, his son caused to the people she loved.
Yeah, they were alcoholics, but even when they were sober, the pair weren’t much better.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What do you know about me?”
“I know you are just like me and David.”
I resisted the urge to grit my teeth. “Why don’t you elaborate on this observation.”
“Tell me you don’t feel it. To put them in their places, make them heed, and show them who’s boss.”
“You can’t bait me.”
“I already have.” His eyes crinkled at the corner. “I know all about that club with the membership-only access. You go there to get it out of your system. Just because they sign a paper saying you can beat them and fuck them doesn’t make you any different from me and your Pa. Don’t ever forget it.”
The bastard wanted to make me believe my need for domination had anything to do with him and the violence I’d grown up around. Sick fuck. He took pleasure in the idea.
“You know nothing about my club.”
“I know you go there to satisfy your rage. You whip them, watch them cry, make them beg. You’re as violent as the rest of the Pierce men. It’s in the blood, face it.”
His words felt as if he had punched me in the gut.
“Only someone like you would twist something consensual between a couple into a vile thing to fit your narrative.”
“Is that so? Then why do people at your club call you dangerous?”
I stared at him. Fucking Stuart and his connections.
“And?”
“So you don’t deny it.”
“That I’m dangerous? It depends on the situation.”
“Rumors say you killed your woman.” He waved his hand. “Not the model, the other one. Guess she talked back too much, and you got tired of it.”
So he knew about Maria. Good for him. With how her brother made the scene at the opening of the new building I constructed not so long ago, it wasn’t a real surprise that the news would travel throughout the various circles.
“Why the interest in my personal life? What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing. Except for the pleasure of seeing you show your true colors.” He snorted.
“You like to justify your choices and project onto others. I’m not you.”
