Page 191 of Adam
“I’ve heard about you,” Cain suddenly says. “Ran from Italy a few years back and started clawing at the underworld, doing whatever dirty, desperate shit you had to just to feel important. Power, money, fear—you chased all of it and still ended up a small man playing dress-up in a big chair.”
My heart jumps once. Father grows uneasy, clenching his jaw, trying to stay calm.
“I wonder if that’s the version of your pathetic empire your people know,” Cain continues.
“All that noise and you’re just hiding behind fear like a coward,” Judas says.
Father says nothing at first. He just stares at us with a vacant stare.
“Fear,” he repeats, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Strange how it keeps people alive long enough to be useful. Keeps them obedient. Keeps them right where I want them.”
He flicks two fingers, barely looking, and his men move instantly.
“I tried getting fear out of your little pet the usual way,” he continues, still bored. “Pain. Isolation. Turns out he’s more stubborn than he looks.”
His men drag a man forward. His arms are yanked back and tied tight across his chest and waist. A fabric bag is shoved over his head.
Father watches him with clear enjoyment.
“Maybe this will finally get a reaction out of you,” he says, lips curling. “I do enjoy when you start to break.”
He gestures lazily for the bag to be removed. His man removes it in a sharp motion, revealing the man behind it.
“Wes,” I breathe, the word ripping out of me before I can stop it.
“Ahh, there it is,” Father says, amused, like he finally got the reaction he wanted.
Wes is alive.
He’s alive …
This sick bastard cut off his hand just to play with him. To weaken him. To bait us out like animals.
“You should be proud of your little vermin, Manson. His resilience is almost annoying.” He lights up a cigar and inhales it. “Let’s see if that can drag some real fear out of you.”
The man holding Wes tightens his grip on him, making him grunt.
Adam stays perfectly still, but I see it. I see the change crawl under his skin. I see the violence in him start taking over.
Wes’s locks fall messily across his bruised, battered face. He looks thinner than before. Worn down and exhausted.
“And why would Leslie need to drag fear out of us, again?” Adam says, his brows pulling together.
“Oh, my mistake. I thought you two were close,” Father says, waving two fingers.
His men jam their guns against Wes’s head.
“Wait, no!” I snap. “I’ll come back.”
“What the fuck did you just say?” Adam growls, turning toward me, something dark flashing across his face.
Adam cares about Wes. I’ve seen it. I saw what it did to him when he thought Father had killed him. He hides it under all that violence and madness, but it’s there. He’s brutal, he’s dangerous, but he doesn’t leave his people behind.
Wes shakes his head hard, trying to tell me to shut up, to stop, to not do this.
I step forward, anyway. “Wes’s life for mine.”
“Now this is an unexpected turn,” Calvano says.
