Suddenly someone was pulling me away from a wailing Sarah, tugging me to my feet and pushing me onto a sofa. It was Ezra. He crouched before me, his hands moving frantically.
Tiernan, you need to focus. Take a deep breath. Your mother doesn’t matter. Who your father is doesn’t matter. What matters is making life safe for Bianca and Brando, for all of us.
I fell forward, elbows to thighs, face in my hands as I struggled for breath.
Vaguely, I was aware of the deal going down over the monitor. Of Bryant agreeing to buy the proprietary ultrasound technology developed by Colombe Energy before the company could go public with it.
The rich echo of satisfaction in Bryant’s voice did more to calm me than Ezra could.
The son of a bitch thought he was king of everything. No, not king. God. He believed everything good in life was owed to him and if it wasn’t given freely, he was happy to take it. He was a bully, pure and simple.
He’d bullied every one of his children to some extent and he’d fucking terrorized me.
He’d treated Sarah so badly she was driven into a rival’s arms. The irony wasn’t lost on me that Bryant had forced me into Bianca’s life, too.
We’d all allowed ourselves to be victims for too long, to let a fucking villain reign supreme over our lives and it was past time we took him off that corrupt throne.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet, stalking out of Sarah’s parlor.
Voices erupted behind me, calling me back, but I was already jogging down the hall, racing down the stairs to the main level to charge up the opposite staircase leading to Bryant’s domain.
His fucking throne room.
My gun was in my hand, raised steadily despite the violence seething in my gut like a pit of agitated snakes. When I kicked in the office door, everyone inside froze.
Beckett sat in a chair to the far right before Bryant’s desk, his face caught in horrified shock as he stared at me leveling a gun at Bryant.
Carter was behind our father’s shoulder where he sat at his desk, the very same position I’d taken up in that very room for my entire fucking life.
Santo stood off to one corner, closing a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash as if a madman hadn’t just stormed the room.
And Bryant.
My fucking piece of shit fake father who’d made my life a living, breathing nightmare?
He took one look at me, tipped his head back and roared with laughter.
Cold teeth bit between my shoulder blades, right where Bryant had me tattoo the tally marks of the lives I’d taken for him.
“Tiernan,” he crowed. “What excellent timing. I just made a nice little deal with some friends here to see out the humiliation you were supposed to dole out to the fucking Constantines.”
“You didn’t do shit expect for dig your own grave, you son of a bitch,” I said, the words cold as ice cubes clinking against my teeth, my hands steady as I narrowed my sights on his rotten fucking heart. “It was a goddamn set up.”
Bryant’s laughter dissolved into a chuckle, his black eyes fixing on me with igniting anger. “I very much doubt you could pull that off. You’re about as dumb as they come, son.”
“I’m not your fucking son,” I barked, clicking the safety off my gun, the small sound echoing too loudly.
“Maybe not, but I am,” Lucian said from behind me, slightly breathless as he reached the landing with Ezra and took up at my back. “Think of it as a belated Christmas gift, Daddy-O.”
“Sorry we didn’t get you a card,” Carter quipped as he stepped away from Bryant’s right hand side and rounded the desk to join us.
“You fucking disloyal idiots,” Bryant spat, getting to his feet even though I took a step closer and then another, right next to Beckett still frozen in his chair, two feet from pressing my gun into Bryant’s chest. “You think you can just get away with this? I own you all and I own everything you think is yours.”
He pierced Lucian with that soulless gaze. “I gave you Morelli Holdings. Don’t you think I could take it away? You think I don’t know about Elaine? You think I couldn’t have her relapsing in a second? You know, son, they put absolute poison in drugs these days. It wouldn’t be unusual if poor little Elaine overdosed on fentanyl.”
“Fuck you,” Lucian snarled. “That’s the last time you speak her name or I’ll cut out your tongue.”
Bryant shrugged easily, as if there weren’t four angry men focused on him with violent intent. “And Carter? You think I don’t know about what you get up to overseas? You don’t think I could blow the whistle on you anytime I damn want?”