Claiming His Christmas Tree Topper - Page 32

“What the fuck do you want?” I seethe, making no effort to hide my hatred for my brother.

“Your trust.” He shrugs like he’s asking for today’s newspaper.

“What?”

“The one my mother held on to like a vise.” He sits forward and places his glass on the table beside him. “I want every dime of it.”

The number of zeros in that trust is obscene, but that’s not what has me pausing. “So what then, you get this money and you disappear?”

“I’ll be out of your hair forever.” He’s smug as he smiles.

“Until it runs out.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I tuck my hands in my pockets and walk around the room as I talk. “It’s okay, there’s no need to argue.” He closes his mouth, and I continue. “You see, I had a lot of time to think about this while you had me locked up.” The urge to pin him to the ground and claw his eyes out is so strong, but I push it down. “And I did a little digging on my own on the inside.”

“How?” His eyes narrow, and now it’s my turn to smile.

“You’d be surprised how much those guards hated you.” His face pales. “It didn’t take me long to get access to information and find out your secrets.”

“You know nothing, and if you did, it doesn’t matter. I’ve covered my trail well enough, and I’ve got people in high places willing to look the other way.”

“Maybe so.” I lean against the bar and stare at my half-brother who has hated me my whole life. “But I know you’re in deep with the mob, and you’re still running from them. No matter who you have in high places, they will find you.”

“No they won’t,” he shouts and then takes a breath to calm himself.

“You double-crossed the biggest mob boss of this century, and you think he’s just going to let you get away with it?” I shake my head. “You’re lucky he’s not coming after Jillian or Rae for his revenge.”

“Probably because he knew that brat wasn’t mine.”

Before he can take his next breath, I’m on him with my hand wrapped around his throat. “Give me one good reason not to end it for them.”

“That’s why his yacht went down in the Caribbean,” Jillian says, and I glance over to see her standing in the doorway with Dasher. “You faked your own death.”

I squeeze his neck harder, and his face turns from red to purple.

“That’s why people don’t like me asking questions.” Dasher enters the room and takes a casual seat across from us as I keep on choking Paul. “If he dies in here, I really don’t want him to piss on my rug. Maybe we could take him out back?”

Nobody tells me to stop, but I understand what Dasher is saying. This isn’t the place. I release my hand and toss him back in his seat, where he slumps against it and gasps for air.

“He owed debts to the mob, bigger than any of our bank accounts combined.” I glance at Jillian and Dasher, and their eyes widen. “He got information on the head of the family and flipped for the feds in exchange for immunity.” I pause as I turn my glare on him. “And to lock me away.”

“Oh god.” Jillian puts a hand to her mouth as her eyes move between us.

“But there’s no hole deep enough for you to hide in, Paul, and even if I give you that trust, you won’t get far.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His voice is scratchy as he straightens his suit. “You’ll give it to me, and I’ll disappear into the night.” There’s an edge of a threat as he narrows his eyes. “Otherwise I let slip that the only thing in life that matters to me is that little girl. How fast do you think they’d steal her away if they needed just an ounce of leverage?”

“You wouldn’t,” Jillian warns, and I hold out my hand.

“How much is the trust?” Dasher asks, and I tell him. His eyes widen, and then he nods.

“No amount of money will pay for the betrayal,” I say to the room. “The moment they find you, you’re dead.”

“Then I’ll make sure they don’t find me.” Paul stands like he’s ready to leave. “You can have the wire transfer sent tonight, and I’ll be gone forever.”

I stare at him for a moment as I think of all that I learned about him and his dealings. “I would have given it to you years ago if you would have asked.” No, asking was below Paul. He’d rather take.

“She wouldn’t let me have it,” he hisses, and I think about his bitch of a mother and how controlling she was. “I finally had enough and slipped her too much of her medication.” Jillian gasps again, but Paul ignores her. “Once she was out of the way, everything went to me. Except control of the trust. There was no way to break it, so I had to wait.”

Tags: Alexa Riley Romance
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