Adrian (Filthy Rich Alphas) - Page 22

Dad laughed. “You think you’re the first one to suck me and my son’s dick?”

Carmen glared at me. “Apparently, not.”

“Aww, she wanted to be special.” Dad pouted and mimicked a baby whining. “Poor Carmen. Nobody will ever love her.”

“Enough, Dad.” I jumped and cupped my dick. “Carmen, let me explain. I’ve had sex with a few of his women, but it wasn’t anything like what we did.”

Dad laughed. “Why are you explaining yourself to this black bitch?”

Rage coursed my veins. “Don’t call her that.”

“Fuck you, Nick!” she screamed.

“Oh, fuck me?” Dad touched his chest and swayed a little off balance. “What? Am I next?”

“You wish you were next, old man,” she spit the words back at him.

He pointed his finger at her. “I give you a ring and move you into my house, and you do the same thing that all of them do, run off to the younger version of Nick—”

“I didn’t run to him.” Carmen wrapped the blanket around her as if she was preparing for battle. “He came to me willingly, unlike you who has barely come home since I moved in, so spare me your sob story.”

“You’re all the same. Greedy little sluts. I figured you’d be different.”

She tossed him an evil gaze. “Why, cause I was a black bitch?”

“Exactly,” he growled. “I heard black bitches are more grateful.”

I charged for him, jumped out of the bed with closed fist and dove for his old body.

We crashed to floor. I pounded in him.

“Call her that again!” I punched him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth. I don’t know how long I beat him. Too long. He’d stopped fighting back after the first punch. Carmen’s screams filled the air. Servants rushed in and pulled me off of him.

Blood covered Dad’s face. Still on the ground, he rolled from side to side, groaning. “Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

I excused the two servants. “That’s the last time you call her that.”

“Let him say what he wants.” Carmen gazed at my ruined hands and shivered. “I’ve heard worse from better people. Nothing he has to say will affect me.”

“Okay.” Still naked, I got in between her and his ragged form lying on the ground. “Dad, you’re mad and drunk. Go in your private room and sleep it off.”

His words came out as gurgled mumbles. “You hit me?”

Dad regularly brought women to the mansion but never to his private bedroom where he rested between each rendezvous/affair. In that room, a painting of my mother hung on the wall above his head. Sometimes I wondered if she’d been the only true love of his life. Did he ever think back to all of those years with regret? When he stumbled off to his room, alone and old, did he stare up at that painting of Mom and imagine what their future would’ve been—family vacations, growing old together, and grandchildren. Did he lie awake on cold nights and reminisce about their life together?

“I’m staying in here.” Dad rubbed his eyes. “She can leave. Just have somebody throw her on the curb with the rest of the trash.”

“Eh,” I pointed my finger at him. “You want more?”

He shut his mouth and did his best to sit up.

“That’s fine,” Carmen said. “I don’t give a damn what he calls me. He’s a sad, pathetic man. I feel sorry for him.”

“Oh, yeah yeah.” Dad clapped his hands. “Don’t you love the way the monkey sings?”

What happened next was probably wrong, but I didn’t care.

Again, I dove for my dad, a man I had hated for years in silence, but never had the balls to truly call on his crap. I leaped for him with fury spraying out of my pores. My fingers itched to strangle him, just take his disgusting breath away for a few seconds.

Had he seen the hatred in my eyes?

“Adrian, no!” Carmen yelled right as my fist connected with his face. He widened his eyes and fell back from the impact. My fingers throbbed, but it was worth the pain.

“Have some respect for her!” I roared. “At least give her that.”

He crashed right back to the floor.

I stood over him, naked and with closed fists. “She’s right. I came to her. She’s not like the others so treat her with respect. The rest were greedy sluts. Not her. I had to beg her. I had to do more than show her my dick or wave my wallet around.” I stared down at my feet. “I had to pull things inside of me that I hadn’t realized were there, just to get close to her. I had to work at being better.”

Dad touched his face with a shaking hand. “Y-you hit me again? What’s next?”

At that moment, I realized he hadn’t heard one thing that I’d said. “Don’t call her those names again, and I won’t hit you.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Billionaire Romance
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