AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There had been no bloody scene in the kitchen. My father hadn’t lit a match.
I groaned into my palms. This was all Max’s fault. He’d put that terrible idea into my mind when he’d told me that his family had murdered my mother and that my father had staged the fire to cover it up.
A shudder of revulsion rolled through me, a physical rejection of the possibility that my dad could be capable of something so evil, all to protect his budding political career.
I pressed my face deeper into my hands, pushing back tears. This wasn’t the first time I’d been haunted by this new nightmare. In the weeks since Max had betrayed my trust with his cruel, insane lies, the terrible dream had assailed me half a dozen times.
I couldn’t go on like this. I was unravelling, coming apart at the seams. What Max had said about my father’s involvement with the Russian Bratva and my mother’s death was driving me close to madness.
There was one way to get rid of the nightmares: I would simply look at the facts again. I would prove to myself that Max was wrong about everything. I couldn’t get him to listen to reason, but that didn’t mean that I was incapable of being rational. I’d probably have to wade through more nightmares as I dove deeper into my father’s case against the Mafia, Max’s family.
But once I saw the full truth laid out before me, I would finally be able to sleep. I could put all thoughts of Max and the nightmares he’d brought into my life firmly out of my mind.
I would disprove Max’s insane conspiracy theories. Not for his sake, but for mine.
MAX
My fingers still tingled with the memory of her soft skin beneath my achingly gentle touch. Allie had been shaken, overwhelmed by the asshole who’d pulled her close for a picture she didn’t want to take. I’d been determined to watch her from the shadows, to make sure that none of Nikolai’s Russian friends were keeping tabs on her. But as soon as that handsy bastard had dared to approach her, I’d seen red. Within seconds, I’d been in her personal space, protecting her.
My blood boiled at the thought of the fucker’s face, pale with fear when I’d confronted him. It’d taken all my limited restraint to prevent myself from tearing him apart.
But I couldn’t bring myself to allow her to see just how monstrous I truly was. On some level, she now understood that my family was capable of terrible things, and I’d forced her to accept that I was part of their violent world. But some stupid part of me still hoped that she didn’t see me as entirely evil.
She hadn’t flinched when I’d touched her face. As always, I’d been drawn to hold her with careful tenderness, as though I’d accidentally hurt her if I didn’t leash my darkest instincts to possess her completely. She’d looked up at me with those wide, peridot eyes, and I wanted so badly to delude myself that she’d seen me as her protector once again.
Then her friends had shown up, and reality had crashed back down on both of us. They’d looked at me with revulsion and contempt.
Stay away from our Allie, the guy had warned.
My fists clenched at the memory. Allie was mine.
“Am I boring you, Maximus?” My father’s soft drawl sliced through my wayward thoughts like a knife.
“Leave the boy alone, Paul.” My grandfather’s voice rumbled beneath the weight of the weariness that’d plagued him since his release from prison two years ago.
“He’s not a boy,” Father snapped. “He’s a piss-poor excuse for a man, but he’s old enough to take on his responsibilities.”
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.” I struggled to keep the rush of indignant rage from roughening my tone, but my fingers flexed with unspent aggression. “If you have something to say, say it to me. Don’t talk about me like I’m not right here.”
I sucked in a breath, and the air hardened to cement in my lungs. It was the most I’d dared to say to my father in years. It was the first time I’d been remotely defiant since the night he’d shoved me into the fire. My fury at losing Allie had distracted me to the point of madness, and for an awful moment, I’d forgotten just how dangerous he was.
He blinked at me, his dark eyes widening a fraction before narrowing. “At least you’re finally displaying some backbone. But don’t test me.” He leaned forward in his chair where he was seated at the head of the enormous mahogany dining table. My family’s eyes scoured my ruined face; my sister and cousins watched my humiliation with keen anticipation. “You’re not even a made man yet. You might be my son, but I didn’t raise you to be an entitled little shit. You have to earn your place in this family.”
