Page 39 of Dishonored

Caesar stiffened at his step-mother’s voice. He didn’t even bother to turn and look at Martina in the doorway. He didn’t fucking want to.

“Hey, Ma,” Daniele greeted.

He heard the pat of a hand against a cheek before Martina said, “Missed you.”

“Darling,” Angelo greeted. “And yes, I’ll take a drink.”

“Caesar, no hello for me today?”

Caesar wouldn’t have been able to hide the hatred in his gaze when he glanced at his step-mother even if he tried. “No, not particularly.”

“Caesar!”

Angelo’s shout fell on deaf ears.

Martina had the gall to look sad.

The fucking lying—

“Caesar, greet your mother.”

Step-mother, he wanted to correct.

He didn’t correct his father.

“Martina,” he greeted through a stiff jaw and clenched teeth before he looked back to his father. “Better?”

“What is your problem?”

He could feel Martina’s gaze burning into his back, and it almost felt as though she was daring him to speak. He hadn’t liked this woman when she came into his life over two decades ago, and he didn’t fucking like her now, either. His hatred of her had only grown over time with the help of her, and everyone else around them.

She earned it.

She was too close.

Sharing his space.

It drove him crazy.

“I will call you when I have something useful on the clan, or the woman,” Caesar said.

“Wait just a damn—”

He didn’t wait.

He was already gone.

Caesar had been gone for years.

It was a shame his father never noticed.

Caesar kept the phone at his ear even as he saw a car he’d been waiting for pull up to a specialty clothing boutique across the road. “The main attraction has arrived.”

“Be careful, man.”

“Those words don’t make any sense.”

Cain grumbled under his breath. “Not for you, no.”