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“Where the fuck is she?” I roar, slamming the barrel into his forehead and getting up close to snarl at him. “Tell me right now if you value your sorry life.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” Xavier hisses.

“Rain,” I demand. “Where. Is. She?”

“Rain?” His eyes narrow before he laughs easily. “Oh, you’ve worked it out for yourself. She’s my wife now, did you know? Well, unfortunately for you, your little rescue mission will not work. I sent her off weeks ago to a man they call the Wife Breaker.”

I stumble back, running my hands through my hair. Phoenix is groaning on the floor and Xavier uses the moment to alert his own guards, fucking us both over. I’m eager for a hit, but I have nothing on me. My hands desperately search my pockets, coming up with a nearly empty plastic baggy of white powder. I inhale it needily under my uncle’s watchful eyes. None of this makes sense.

“Oh, you fucked up thing,” Xavier tuts with disapproval. “You’re hooked on that shit, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss. “Just shut up for once and let me think. You don’t have her?”

“I told you, she’s been away for weeks,” he shakes his head. “Now give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot your brains out right now. You killed my men. You attacked me in the middle of the night. But you’re overpowered now.”

One quick look reveals he’s right. In the hallway, the bodies of our men are scattered everywhere. It’s a bloody fucking mess. All that’s left are me and Phoenix, and he’s passing out from the pain on the ground.

“Fuck,” I hiss, my shaky hands pointing the gun back at Xavier.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” my uncle says smoothly. “We got you fucking surrounded.”

I thought I hated him before, but now, faced with what he did to me again, I realize my hatred has grown even more. He took everything from me. Not just Rain, but my home, my status, my men, my goddamn name.

“You bastard,” I hiss. “You dare talk shit to me in my house? Everything in here you stole. Everything you are, you stole.”

Xavier pales but doesn’t respond. Is it possible the pendejo still has a conscience?

“You got some explaining to do,” he tells me. “Why are you here? Why now?”

“You fucking useless piece of shit,” I snarl. “I’m the Wife Breaker, you idiot.”

This at last prompts a reaction from him. It takes Xavier a moment to realize what I’ve said is true, and when he does, he launches himself at me. I hold out the gun.

“Don’t you take another step,” I snarl. “I’ll kill you, pendejo. I don’t give a shit if I die. None of it matters, not anymore. Not without her.”

“You mean you don’t have her?”

“She was kidnapped,” I snarl. “By you.”

“I didn’t even know it was you who had her,” Xavier hisses, before approaching me and knocking the gun out of my grip. “You bastard. You lost my wife?”

“I didn’t lose her,” I spit out. “I was fucking shot trying to save her, you piece of shit.”

“Who took her?”

“You did!”

“I think it’s clear by now I didn’t,” he snarls. “Now tell me why you’re so fucking convinced I’m the culprit.”

“Because I saw you.”

“You couldn’t have.”

“I did,” I insist while he pushes me back, making me stumble and glare at him with undiluted hatred. “I saw your fucking face. I saw you, dressed all in black, dragging Rain onto a boat. And I saw you leave with her.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Maybe you’re just lying to me like you always do. Why should I believe you?”

He grunts, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t fucking believe you lost my wife. I would kill you right now, but first we need to get her back.”

“But who has her if not you?”

“Fuck knows,” Xavier barks. “Maybe if you weren’t so hopped up on those shitty drugs, you’d be a more reliable source of information. As of right now, I don’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth.”

“I know what I saw.” For the first time, I’m sure of myself. The drugs make me doubt a lot, but the face of the man that took Rain is forever etched on my mind. “And I saw you.”

“And I’m telling you, it wasn’t me.”

“Then he looked just like you. He could’ve been your twin.”

Xavier laughs, but there’s no humor to the sound. It’s bitter.

“That’s not possible.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

He growls my name, looking like he’s about to launch himself at me again before he speaks up again, slower and quieter this time around.

“I’m telling you, Heath. The only person who looks like me is fucking dead.”

“So you admit there’s someone who could have taken her. A son?” He snickers, making me grit my teeth in anger. “A brother?”

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