I played hard, and I fought harder.

Took what I needed because I couldn’t sit around relying on someone else to hand it to me.

Some people might call me an asshole. Callous. Ruthless.

Fuck that.

I called it tenacity.

I was a warrior.

A survivor.

I’d never go back to that place where I was hungry. A scared little kid dressed in tattered, dirty clothes, curled up in a ball on a filthy floor with an empty stomach and bruises littering his body.

Begging for someone . . . anyone to help.

The only person who ever had was my brother, Jace. He’d been my protector. The one to stand up and take the blows, the one to lie and steal, providing for me the only way that he could.

He taught me from the get-go that the only thing we had was each other. He and my best friend Mack were as far as my trust went and that was exactly where it ended.

Because I’d never allow myself to go back to that disgusting place of depravity and poverty and desolation.

A memory hit me faster than I could stop it.

Disgust crawled beneath the surface of my skin. I almost wanted to squeeze my eyes closed against the image. To refuse it. Forget it.

But I didn’t.

I held on to it.

Embraced it.

Let it become a weapon and a reason.

Truth was, there was no forgetting exactly how that horror had felt. I’d been seventeen when I’d stood there in that doorway, blinking into the hollow, vacant room. Death screaming back.

It was the exact moment I’d felt a light go dim inside me, and I could physically feel the darkness rushing in to take its place.

It had obliterated a hope and a love and a loyalty that I never should have felt in the first place. I’d been nothing but a stupid kid who’d clung to an idea that was ignorant and pathetic.

It was the first moment in time when I knew I would do whatever it took to make it. When I’d made an oath to myself I’d never again allow someone to hold me back or push me down.

So, there I stood.

One step away from the goal I’d set for myself that day. I’d promised myself that whatever direction I went, whatever career or profession I chose, I would land at the top of it.

I’d reach the pinnacle even if my fingers and nails were ripped to shreds and bleeding from clawing my way there.

Even if it meant pinning a fucking fake smile on my face and pretending like I wanted to be here.

Besides, it wasn’t really Kenneth’s fault that he was the bossman. He actually was a decent guy. Didn’t mean that I liked that what he said was final. That he was the one who held my ultimate success in his hands.

There was always a hierarchy.

I was almost to the top of it. I wouldn’t stop until I took his place.

Kenneth sent me a searching glance, right back to business. “How’s Bennet? Tell me you’re keeping him happy.”

Lawrence Bennet.

My guts curled with the name. Lawrence Bennet was one of the firm’s biggest clients. One I’d brought on.

He’d taken me under his wing when I was seventeen. Becoming a father figure when my life had gone to shit. Getting behind me on my quest to become who I was today.

I’d thought he was there to help me.

Thing was, the asshole had had me involved up to my nose in shady shit before I even realized he was putting me in shackles. Dragging me into a seedy world I never should have stepped into.

Over time, it’d only gotten worse, his hold cinching tighter.

He was a loose end that needed to be snipped.

Problem was, I wasn’t sure how to cut that thread without sending myself falling. Fucker had ensured that when he became my firm’s most important client.

“I can assure you Bennet is taken care of, sir. He’s my first priority.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” He lifted his drink in approval. “You keep going the direction that you are, and you’re going to do big things. Big, big things.”

That was the plan.

Kenneth downed his champagne and tipped me a knowing grin. “Guess we’d better get back to it, eh? There are asses to be kissed.”

A light chuckle rolled out. “I think I might have kissed plenty for the night.”

He quirked a playful brow, his voice only half-horrified. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about me?”

Surprise tumbled out in my laughter. “Never,” I told him, something wry in my grin.

He squeezed my shoulder, all too knowing. “You’re a sly one, aren’t you, Jacobs?”

There was a gleam to his eyes, a hint that maybe he did have an inclination of the lengths that I would go. That he knew I’d do whatever I had to do, in every and any situation, to get the result to land in my favor.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance
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