Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I shrugged.
“Tell me,” my father demanded, not enjoying repeating himself.
“Apparently Cardinal Benetti didn’t take too kindly to me fucking his bastard daughter,” I answered. The sooner he got the answers he came for the sooner he would leave.
“Where?”
“In the ass.”
I could feel him rolling his eyes at my glib response.
“I meant, in what location did you fuck her?”
“I know what you meant,” I said, sitting up and opening my eyes. “In St. Peter’s chapel. On the altar… then again across his desk, and there might have been some foreplay in the baptistry.”
He rubbed his jaw the same way he did every time he was calculating bribes in his head.
“She said she wanted to see God. As a man of the cloth, how was I supposed to deny her?”
“Thought we agreed you’d keep it off holy grounds.” He smirked, trying to hold in his laughter. God forbid I take his humor as a sign of approval.
“Sorry to be yet another disappointment, Father,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and waiting for him to get to whatever his point was.
He stood, re-buttoning his suit jacket, and took a few steps to the door. Really, if he wanted his visits to be so short, why did he even darken my doorway? He could have just called or texted.
“I’ll fix it. The right donations in the right hands will bury all of this excommunication nonsense. You’ll be back in Rome by the end of the week.”
That was why he was here, to send me back into exile.
I wasn’t a scared child anymore. I wasn’t just going to do as I was told.
“No,” I said, watching as my father froze, his back straightening before he turned toward me. I loved telling him “no.” I was pretty sure it was the only time he ever heard the word. Putting my feet up on the table, I stretched back and linked my hands behind my head. He didn’t get to know that he got to me. “I think I am going to stay in New York for a while.”
“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing, studying me as if he could see my plan written across my forehead.
“What’s the matter, Father? Not happy at your prodigal son’s return to his family’s bosom?” I was playing with fire, and I didn’t give a single fuck.
What could he possibly take from me now?
“You can’t go after Mary Quinn,” he warned.
“Who says I am?”
“I’m your father. I know you. You do not let shit go. You hold grudges like lifelines.”
“Don’t you fucking dare claim you know me,” I said, getting to my feet. He was right, of course, but he and Luc were just as bad.
“Mary Quinn is untouchable. Period.” He rounded on me, standing face to face. This was the first time I had ever looked him straight in the eye, ever stared him down man to man. I wasn’t grown when I left, and I hadn’t seen him since. Hadn’t even gotten more than a phone call in over seven years, asking me what the fuck had I “done this time.”
“You don’t think I want her blood?” he all but spit. “You don’t think I want to take her down and destroy her for everything? She is untouchable.”
“No one is untouchable. Everyone has a weakness. Everyone has a button that will make them fall. You taught me that.”
“Yes, I did. And that includes us. Mary Quinn has… information on this family. Leave her alone, Thomas, that’s an order.” He gave me the same look—condescension mixed with warning—he did when I was a child.
It wasn’t as effective when he wasn’t towering over me.
“I don’t take orders from you… Father. I answer to a higher power.”
He rubbed his jaw again. Did he think he could bribe me to drop this? He couldn’t, but it would be fun to watch him try.
“Look. Things are… different now. I’m remarried,” he said, like he was trying to diffuse the situation. Explain that he was a kinder, gentler Manwarring, as if such a thing were possible.
“I’m aware, I was there.”
If he was surprised, he wouldn’t show it.
“You should come to dinner and meet Stella properly,” he said. “I’m sure she would love to meet you.”
“I’d love to greet my new hot… young… stepmother properly,” I said with a suggestive wink.
Father sighed. For the first time in probably ever, he let his shoulders drop a little. That was when I noticed the slight signs of aging. He was still fit and well-groomed. He could easily defeat any opponent in a boardroom or polo match, but there was a weariness that hadn’t been there before.
“I don’t want any trouble, Thomas.”
“Neither do I,” I replied.
I didn’t want trouble. I wanted revenge.
He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe a word I said. I guessed that killer instinct wasn’t completely dead.