Page 28 of Adam
He makes his way to that oh-so-relaxing black leather throne of his.
“As I mentioned, your job is not to ask questions, Mitchell.”
I already hate this name.
“What I do know about you is that you’re such a noble man and a big, bad monster who’ll stop at nothing to protect my precious little princess. Because of course, you’d never let an innocent girl die … right?”
“No point to mention you’re a fucking sick man,” I mock, trying to play it cool.
In fact, I am not.
He takes a seat, letting out a soft groan. Despite the cane, he doesn’t have a limp. Seems like someone enjoys the drama.
“Yet you’re still in. Do we have a deal, Adam Mitchell?” he asks, extending his hand again.
I’m no saint. Hell, I’m not even innocent, to be frank. But wanting to kill your own fucking child while calling yourself sane is a whole new level of messed up. And no, not in some twisted, “deep down I can forgive you” kind of way. It’s just plain unforgivably psychotic.
This little reunion really proves that dragging my sorry ass back here and giving up everything was the right choice. I’m not here to play hero or save some hot damsel in distress. I want to be the monster that tears this sick bastard apart.
I take his hand in a firm handshake and lean in, locking eyes with him, steady and unblinking.
“Deal. I will protect your daughter with everything I’ve got. And ifanyoneeven brushes a finger against her, I’ll make them beg for an ending I won’t give.”
He remains still, but I’m sure he took the hint.
Oh, how easy it would be for me to snap his neck right now. It’d save me my precious time and spare a few innocent bastardsfrom suffering. But if I kill him now, I go down with him. And then who’s left to protect her?
“Good,” he growls. “Becausethey’re coming for her.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Mind your business, Mitchel.” He pulls back, takes out a new cigar, and lights it up. “Wes used to be her personal bodyguard. Now he’s your right-hand man.”
A slow, wicked smile creeps across my face as I turn to look at Wes. “And just like that, my day got better.”
“What?” Wes growls. “Some random asshole shows up and I get demoted? Just like that?”
I shake my head, biting my lower lip. “This is gonna be so much fun,” I say, savoring every word and every fucked-up expression on his stupid face.
The others try to remain calm and hold back their amusement. I’m sure it’s not just me who enjoys the show more than I should.
“Youare my boss!” he shouts at Calvano. “Iwas Isabella’s personal bodyguard!”
Fabio takes a drag of his cigar. “Is that an objection I hear?”
Wes’s jaw locks tightly, trying to choke down his voice and humiliation. “… No.”
“Great.”
I clap my hands once. “Chop-chop! Go make me a coffee like the obedient little star you are.”
“Piss off.”
“I’ll enjoy this job more than I thought.”
They say when we make plans, God laughs. I used to think that was just poetic nonsense. Until last night.
Things don’t always go the way we planned.
