Perfect Monster (The Oligarchs) - Page 68

“No, I really didn’t. Who was the right person, Dad?”

“His name was Mikhail O’Conner. He ordered your death.”

I took a step back. “Excuse me? Who the hell is that?” This was the first I ever heard of anything like that name. My breath came shallow and quick and my blood roared in my ears.

“I found out later. He wanted to get at me and thought you’d be the perfect target. It’s my fault, what happened to you, and I’m so, so sorry, Cassie. I cut his throat myself, but I know that doesn’t fix anything.”

“You’re the reason?” I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.

I should’ve known.

I was the daughter of a mobster. Of course my life was in danger.

Back then, I thought I was safe. I thought my father would protect me from the worst of his underworld, and for a long time, that seemed true.

Until that night.

“I was climbing too fast and getting too close to Oisin. Mikhail was jealous and felt he’d knock me back down by hiring a guy to murder you. Except his guy went too far and things didn’t go as planned.” Dad stared down at his hands. “I’m sorry Cassie. I never should’ve said what I said, and never should’ve left you alone.”

He looked so old and pathetic, so skinny and weak and sad. His eyes watered and he slumped forward, his shoulders rounded, his head hanging. I’d never seen him so dejected before in my life.

I almost believed him.

“Fuck you.” My fingers turned white, the knuckles bulging as I stepped toward him. “Fuck you, Dad. Fuck you for everything. For what you said, for dragging me into your hellish world, for spying on me after I left, and for saying all of that. Fuck you.”

He looked up, surprised. But his shock didn’t last long. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, and the man I remembered from my childhood, so distant and big and strong and always so damn strict emerged once again.

“Don’t talk to me that way. I’m still your father.”

“You’re dead to me. As far as I’m concerned, you were the one that got knifed and raped that night, not me. Don’t come to the wedding, and if you do, don’t speak to me. I want nothing to do with you.”

Tears sprung into my eyes. I could curse and scream for an hour at him and it still wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t want to cry, didn’t want him to see me break down, but damn it, and damn him.

He shouldn’t have said any of that.

Apologize? Now? After so long?

It was too late, way too late.

And to tell me that it was his fault—that didn’t help a damn thing, except ease his conscience.

I hated him so much I could scream.

He looked up at me with growing rage, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I stormed past him and out the doors, into the hallway. He didn’t call out, didn’t ask me to wait, and I slammed the doors behind me—

Closing them on my relationship with him for good.

I had no father. He was dead and gone and never coming back.

In some ways, that felt like closure.

Roman was there as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t know where he came from. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “Say the word. I’ll kill him for you.”

I laughed and cried as he steered me back to the elevator. He opened the door, and we stepped inside. I shook my head, wiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve.

“I think you’ve done enough killing lately.”

“Never enough killing.” He tilted my chin toward him. So tender and gentle. I could almost forget the horrible things he’d done with those fingers. “Are you okay with all of this?”

“It’s fine. It’ll have to be, anyway. I told him not to come to the wedding.”

He smiled, shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll get that wish. He’s important to Oisin these days.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to mess with your plans.”

He kissed my cheek. “Don’t say sorry to me. You have nothing to be sorry about.” He was quiet for a long moment as we stayed in the unmoving elevator. “I want to show you something. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.” I sniffled, getting myself together. I hated feeling so weak and vulnerable. “Where are we going?”

“Down to a level you haven’t been yet.” He pressed a button on the controls and the elevator descended. “I told you once about my brother.”

“You’ve mentioned him.”

“I want you to understand why I am the way I am. And for you to do that, I need you to see something.”

“See what?”

He took my hand and kissed my fingers, his soft, plump lips lingering on my fingertips. “You’ll find out.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Erotic
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