Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“What did you do?” Autumn held their wailing infant against her chest, bouncing him frantically like maybe she was searching for comfort, too.
She stared at him through the dim light that burned from a lamp in the small living room. He’d just come crawling home at four in the morning after his first dirty fight in years.
Bashed to hell and riddled with shame and praying to God she was still asleep.
“Told you I’d do whatever I had to.”
Her face pinched.
Horror.
Disgust.
Disappointment.
“You promised me you wouldn’t go back.”
“Yeah, well, things have changed.”
Tears tracked down her face, and guilt clawed through his being, steely talons wrapped around his neck.
He never should have done it.
Never should have given into the weakness.
Never should have allowed the voices to control what he knew was right.
But he was afraid it was too late.
“So that’s it? This is who you want to be?” Her brown eyes dragged down the wounds that littered his body, his clothes fresh but his soul soured.
“I was always him, Autumn.”
Her mouth twisted in pained disbelief. “No, Milo, you are blind if you think this is who you are. You are good. I know you are, and our children deserve that man, and so do I. This is not the man I married, the one I love, and if you can’t find him, return him to us, then you can just go.”
“Don’t fuckin’ say that.” Grief constricted airflow.
“It’s not me saying it, Milo. It’s you choosing it. You’re choosing not to have us because I won’t let my children be damaged by that life. All for what? Some stupid need to prove to everyone else that you’re what…powerful? Or is it just the money?”
Repulsion filled her voice, and Milo flew across the room, pushing in close to where their baby boy howled. As if he felt the turmoil.
Guilt nearly ripped Milo in two. “I’m doing it for you. For them. So you can have a good home. So our children don’t grow up in this fucking trailer.”
Autumn stepped away, her head shaking as the haggard words fell from her mouth. “Do you think that’s what I want? The only thing I’ve ever wanted is you. So, you decide, Milo… You decide. That world or us.”
“I’m out.” Milo tossed the stack of cash he’d won two nights before onto Stefan’s desk because if he was cutting ties, he was cutting ties.
He’d come here to San Francisco where he knew he would find him.
The man who’d picked him up and dusted off his knees and fed his violent ego. Sculpted and shaped it, then let it fester over the years until Milo had reached the place where he’d been desperate. Where he had no other choice.
He could see it clearly then, the way Stefan had manipulated his weakness. Used it against him, all while using it for his gain.
Milo could hardly blame him.
It was who he’d been.
But he couldn’t be that man if he wanted his family, too.
Like Autumn had told him, he had to choose.
Condescension rolled from Stefan’s mouth, and he rocked back in his executive office chair. “You think you can just walk? Just like that?”
“I have no other choice.”
He tsked. “I warned you the stakes were higher this time, and you agreed. Do you know what that means, Gore?”
Unease shivered through his consciousness. Still, he planted his palms on the gleaming wood and hissed, “It means nothing. Like I told you, I’m done.”
Without saying anything else, he turned on his heel and stormed to the door.
Stefan might think he had control over him, but he would prove he was wrong.
He tossed it open, but he didn’t make it out before a blade was pressed to his jugular, one of the guards hauling him back into the room and turning him to face the bastard who shook his head.
Milo wanted to rage.
Fight.
But the blade was digging into his neck, and his family’s faces were flashing through his mind.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He stood, rounding the table as he readjusted his suit jacket. He leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I have treated you like a son for years, Milo. I took you in. Gave you a chance at a life that you would never have known without me. I loved you enough to let you walk away from me the first time, only because I knew, in time, you would be back. I trusted you when you agreed to the terms. It’s now time to stand and be the man I taught you to be.”
“And if I don’t?”
Stefan cocked his head. “All I can say is I’d suggest you show for your fight this weekend.”
He pushed off the desk, grabbing the stack of cash. He slowly strode across the room, his dress shoes clacking on the polished floor.