His anger grows more when I give him no reaction. “You let him touch you, didn’t you? You let Fenton fuck you.”
“I fucked him right back. Then I begged him to fuck me again.” Damn, that feels good to say. I chose Fenton. It was my choice. No one else’s.
He starts going off. Throwing anything at me to get a reaction. “He’s using you. You know that, right?” A triumphant smile forms on his face when he finds the weak spot he’s looking for. “You thought he really wanted you? Fenton has always been bloodthirsty, wanting to take over a territory. You’ll be nothing more than his trophy whore he’ll need to breed himself a few heirs so he’ll feel legitimate. He’s a bastard and always will be.” I hate how much that stings.
“Like you?” Now it’s my turn to taunt.
If I understand right from the things I’ve heard whispered over the years, he'd been a bastard child. His father had knocked up a maid or some crap. Then he went and got my mom somehow.
“Maybe he’ll at least be able to get a son. You never could pull that one off.”
If he could pale any more, he would. The fight suddenly leaves him at my comment. I’m surprised he doesn’t have more children with all the women that come and go in his life. There has only ever been me. I’m sure that drives him insane. Most of these men won’t stop until they get a son.
“Wasn’t for lack of trying, I’m guessing.” I lift a teasing brow. I’ve been hanging out with Fenton too much if I’m cracking jokes at terrible times.
“Shut the fuck up.”
I’d made a stab in the dark, but my words had hit his weak spot. If I didn’t have the exact same eyes as him, I might doubt that I was even his daughter. But our eyes are unique in their brown color with a gold ring around the outside.
“No.” I pull the blade out from my back pocket. I snagged it from the kitchen the first day I’d come to stay here.
“You wouldn’t,” he challenges. He’s gotten really far in life for being so damn dumb. Thankfully, I only got his eyes.
“Funny, isn’t it? The only child you could have is ultimately going to be your end.”
“Mariana. We’re blood,” he tries to remind me, finally catching on that I might actually take his life. I’ve seen Grant and Fenton together. Blood doesn’t always mean as much as it should.
“We are.” I clear the space between us. The blade sinks in so much easier than I thought it would. I don’t miss my mark. I don’t actually believe Fenton did either. My father’s eyes go wide as he opens his mouth, but no words come. “And I’m freeing myself from you.”
I pull the knife back out, tossing it onto the floor before I turn to leave. The Alderone name is dead.
If Fenton wants it, he can have it. No one’s left to stand in his way.
8
FENTON
She hustles up the stairs and peeks around to see if anyone’s watching. When she thinks the coast is clear, she dashes down the hallway to the garage and slips through the door.
I give Vic’s body one last glance, then hit the light at the top of the stairs, putting the whole scene into darkness. I’ll clean up later. I’ve got a woman to catch.Mywoman.
Following her into the garage, I duck beside Grant’s classic Trans Am as she seems to be trying to decide between the Ferrari or the Lambo.
She’s so cute, standing there just considering which expensive-as-fuck performance machine to steal. Cool and collected, even though she just killed her father. Jesus, I’m hard just thinking about it. He’d called me bloodthirsty, but he clearly underestimated his daughter. She’s a force, one I’m going to bend over my knee.
Finally deciding, she reaches for the door to the Ferrari.
I stand. “You know how to drive stick?”
She jumps and whirls. “How did you—”
“I’ve got your scent,Sole.”
“You sound like an animal.”
“That’s exactly what I am when it comes to you.” I close the distance between us and grab her by the waist. “I saw what you did.”
“Oh.” She looks away, then meets my gaze again with a fierceness that makes my blood pound in my veins. “I don’t regret it.”