“Don’t fuck with me.” I hiss, stepping closer, I press the gun barrel up against his eye, and he whimpers like the little bitch he is. “You better start talking and tell me what I want to know, or you will start losing limbs, and by the time I’m through with you, you’ll be begging me to finish you off. Am I making myself clear?” I declare, pushing my gun harder into his eye socket, and he cries out.
“Yes, yes! Please, don’t kill me.” Aaron pleads, and I pull my gun back a little and quirk a brow.
“Talk.”
“I remember, yes. Adrian, he was one of us. We found out he was stealing money from us, and we got told to take care of him, so we did. We don’t ask questions, we do as we’re told, but I’m not a part of that life anymore, man, I swea—” I punch him again, and he groans, shaking off the blow.
“I want the name of the person who put the hit out on Adrian and Emilie,” I ask, and he looks up at me apprehensively and shakes his head. “TALK!” I roar, and he winces when I press the gun to his forehead.
Aaron hesitates and holds his hands up, his palms facing me, his fingers trembling with fear as he looks into my eyes. The look of terror in his eyes, the sweat forming on his forehead tells me that he knows I will make good on my threats and kill him. “Hugo Quintero.”
I stare at him wordlessly and blink slowly. Did he just say what I thought he did? “Come again?”
“Hugo Quintero! We answered to Hugo, and he put the hit on Adrian and his family as punishment for stealing from him. Look, man, it was nothing personal. It was just business. Hugo isn’t the type of man you steal from and live to talk about it. Adrian fucked up by stealing from him.” I fist my hand by my side and press my molars together tight. The bastard that killed my parents is the father of the woman I took pity on and married. The rage deep in my gut scalded me from the inside out.
“It was personal to me.” I declare and lock my eyes with his. “They were my parents.” Aaron’s eyes go wide, and I pull the trigger and shoot him, once in the head and again in the heart. Watching the life drain out of his face should have felt better, but it didn’t—not after what I just found out.
Ezra is the daughter of the man that was responsible for killing my parents. I leave the house, hurry back to my car, and drive away. My head was all over the place; every cell in my body was ablaze with wrath. I drove around for hours until the urgent need I had to go to my apartment and put a hole in Ezra’s head subsided significantly.
I had to keep reminding myself that she’s innocent in all of this, but the fact that I’m attracted to her, that I want her, knowing who her father is, was making my stomach turn. It’s just too much of a coincidence. I dial James’s number and impatiently wait for him to answer.
“Damien?”
“Did you know?!” I bark down the phone, and he goes silent for a moment before I hear him sigh. “Answer me! Did you know she was the daughter of the man that had my parents killed?!”
“Not until a couple of days ago. I tried to tell you, but you ran out here before I could get a word in.” James explains, and something in my gut is telling me not to believe him.
I grip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles go white. “I don’t believe you. It’s too much for a fucking coincidence.” I state, brushing my fingers through my hair in agitation. “You pushed me into taking this job. Why?”
“Damien, I didn’t know Hugo was the one responsible for your parent's death, I swear to you, son. I was just as surprised when I found out. I insisted you take this job because you’re the only one I relied on not to fuck it all up. I didn’t think you would go, and fucking marry the broad, did I?” I close my eyes and exhale deeply, “I bet you wish you listened and killed her now, don’t you.” James utters self-righteously, and I bite back the urge to snap at him.
“I gotta go.” I hang up and toss my cell onto the passenger seat before landing a swift punch on my steering wheel. “Fuck!”
Once I managed to calm myself down enough to conduct a plan, I head back to the apartment. God himself has dropped the opportunity of a lifetime in my lap. Ezra is now my weapon to destroy that son of a bitch. I’m going to bring him and his goddamn kingdom to its knees. Ruin his daughter, his reputation, and when he has nothing left, I look him in the eyes and avenge my parent's and my sister's death.
I’m going to bury that fucker alive.
I’ve lived with this burning desire to destroy the people responsible for killing my parents since I was old enough to understand what vengeance was. Since I watched them blow my mother and father's heads off and walk away with my baby sister, I refuse to die until I avenge their death, and I will, whatever the cost.
* * *
It was latewhen I got back to my apartment. By morning, the news of our marriage will be out there for the world to see. When I walk in, I see Ezra sitting on the floor, her head pressed against the glass, staring out at the city with Coco sprawled out on her lap while she strokes her absentmindedly. I feel that anger seething beneath the surface, but I force it down.
Jesus, even my dog, which I have trained to hate everyone but me, has taken to her.
“Where the hell have you been, Damien?” Ezra looks at me furiously, and I ignore her and walk over to the fridge to get a drink. “I’m talking to you.”
“I didn’t realize I had to inform you of my whereabouts, princess.” I bite back before I take a long swig from the bottle of beer.
“I’m not your goddamn prisoner. You can’t just lock me away in here for hours on end and come and go as you please!” Ezra hisses furiously, and I stroll over to her and perch down to pet Coco who whines in response but doesn’t move.
“I had business to attend too. My world doesn’t begin and end with you, Ezra.” Ezra looks at me, her eyes bloodshot—she’s been crying again. I don’t know why, but every time I see her crying, something inside me pains. Was it guilt? I know she’s the innocent one in all of this, I may be using her to get my revenge on her father, but that doesn’t mean I can start showing any sign of weakness. If I keep being a bastard to her, she will continue to hate me. If she hates me, she will be safe. I can’t let myself care about her. I won’t. I will protect her with my life, but that’s it.
That needs to be it.
“What have you done to my dog?” I ask, looking down at Coco, who blinks and snuggles further into Ezra’s hold, who scratches the back of her ear lovingly.
“Dogs pick up on human emotions,” Ezra grumbles, looking down at Coco. “She can sense how lonely and anxious I feel. She’s been by my side since you left.” Ezra lifts her eyes and looks at me, sadness evident in her big cerulean eyes. “At least your dog is nothing like you.”