He’s suspected what I’m capable of. He didn’t want me being made for that reason.
It was always going to come down to me or him. One of us was going to finish the other off.
Some day.
As I pull into the long, paved driveway, it feels like a twisted homecoming. I’m only here to do what I do best. Cause trouble. Wreak havoc. Make Stefania weep. Make Lucius pop a blood vessel.
Maybe he’ll even put his hands on me. Just like old times.
I grin as I hop off my sports bike and stride toward the huge front doors.
“Mr. Salvatore,” Florina the head caretaker says when I breeze into the sparkling foyer. Her eyes widen and she scurries after me. “Did Mr. Lucius know you’re coming by? He’s not to be disturbed—”
“Tell Stefania I’m here,” I interrupt, not slowing down. “Tell her I might even stay for dinner.”
Florina gasps and I laugh, leaving her frozen on the spot. I turn the corner down the next hall and head straight for the second to last door on the left.
Lucius’s office, where he parks himself at his desk, and acts like a hardass for most hours of the day.
I don’t knock. I turn the knob and walk right in.
Lucius doesn’t notice me at first. He’s reclining in his chair, nursing some Johnnie Walker in his meaty palm, a phone pressed to his ear. His fat lips are twisted into a cruel smile as he laughs at whatever news he’s being given. The gleam’s there too—that sinister shine he gets in his eyes whenever he’s being a sick bastard.
I stand and I watch, waiting on him to make the next move.
“You already know. Time to shut it down.” He hacks out another gruff laugh. “Construction’s our monopoly and they didn’t play by my rules. Take care of ‘em—”
His words drop off the second he glances in my direction and lays eyes on me. The smile disappears from his fat lips and his eyes lose their villainous gleam. He hangs up without announcing he is and slams his phone down on the desk.
“You really came.”
“You asked me to, Pop. Just following orders.”
He sips from his scotch. “Where is it?”
“Not here.”
“Then we’ve got nothing to talk over.”
“Yes, we do. How about we ask Stefania? She’d love to chat all about it.”
“Listen, you sack of shit for a son!” he growls, throwing his glass to the floor. It shatters into a hundred pieces, but he couldn’t care less. He’s on his feet and coming around the desk in the next second.
I don’t flinch as he rushes at me like a red-faced bull. I’m still grinning, our gazes on each other. Mine, calm and cool. His, squinted in fury. He comes up close enough to throw a hit, though he holds himself back, snarling and baring his square teeth.
“I should’ve killed you when you were born. I wanted to do it. Six weeks old. You were a little shitting machine. Little shithead is what I used to call you. It made Stef cry, but I didn’t give no fucks about it. I’d come to your crib and look at your ugly puckered face and I wanted to do it—press a pillow right over you. Suffocate you just like that.”
“Charming story, Pop. Always enjoyable hearing about doing harm to an innocent baby.”
“You wereneverinnocent! Demon spawn. From the moment you were born.”
The corner of my mouth quirks even wider. I lean closer. “Demon spawn that’s going to take your empire right from under you.”
“You fucking sack of shit!”
I take a large step back as Lucius swings on me. He tries again, large and slow, missing the landing.
When I was younger, I often let him do what he wanted. Let him beat the shit out of me. Let him smash his smoldering cigar into my skin. Let him crack my head open or point a gun to my head. Even when I was a teenager and could fight back.