Page 31 of Vicious Butterfly
Clarence balls his hands into fists.
“That’s why you’ll never burn it down or sell it.Sentimentalvalue.”
He balls his fists. “You wouldn’t know what that means.”
“Of course, I don’t. Which is why I’ve already won.”
“I know it was you. I know you killed him.”
“Oh, here we go with this again. How was it that I killed him? Did I inject him with the pneumonia?”
His jaw tightens. “I don’t know how you did it, just that you did.”
“Wow.” I can’t breathe, I’m laughing so hard. “Your entire case is built on vibes.” More laughter. “Let me know when you have literally anything to support that theory.”
Clarence hurls his glass at me, which I dodge, but I get caught in the champagne crossfire. It soaks my shirt.
“No, for real. If the law thing doesn’t work out, you should go work for the FBI.” My stomach hurts from laughing so hard. I take some wheezing breaths to calm down.
Don’t think he appreciates being laughed at, but it’s his own fault for being so fucking funny. This time, his teeth come out. I might be pushing him to the edge. “You love Luke. Maybe I’ll tell him everything.”
Huh. Smart. He’s finally thinking like a real villain. I’m almost proud of him. Luke’s the only person I really care about. A-plus leverage to use against me. But Clarence is only supposed to do that under certain circumstances. Ones that Jasper laid out. He liked to be the one to pull the puppet strings, and Clarence was too in love not to fulfill Jasper’s wishes.
Just another reason love is for suckers. It’s so easy to manipulate people with what they love. Know what? Changed my mind. Ilovelove. Lovestruck idiots make my life easy.
I keep my mocking smile in place. One of the benefits of a psychopathic personality is the ability to give off like you couldn’t give a fuck, even when you do.
“Great. Consider me warned, now, leave.”
Consider me warned …
Ryan said that.
I remember everything about that night, every breath, every lick of my cock. Fuck. Now I’m hard, and if I can’t stick my cock in Ryan, I don’t want it. But I would like to choke Clarence until he stops breathing. I promise it wouldn’t be kinky at all.
“One day I will. I’ll find out what you love, and I’ll make sure you never get to have it.”
“You don’t pay attention, do you?” I point to myself. “I don’t love anything or anyone. Good luck with that.”
I stand abruptly. He flinches. Fucking coward. My hand twists into his tie, lifting him until his pretty face gasps for air. Heads turn to look past the ropes, getting a good view of the intermission show.
“Get out, Clarence, or maybe I stop caring about fortunes and my money.”
Letting go, he drops with a thud to the floor, sprawling, champagne glass shattering. I step on his hand, tempted to put weight on it until I hear a crack, but it’s enough to watch the shards of glass pierce his finger. He cries out. I smirk. Blood wells, swirling pools of red. I pull my foot back, and he scrambles to his feet.
“You’re never going to see that money, VanCourt.”
He’s not as conniving as my uncle was; it’s new to him. Maybe Jasper liked his naivety? Don’t know. But it’s fun. Like playing chess with a toddler. He’s probably afraid of the mayhem that taking action would cause.
“And you’re never going to see the sun from the ocean floor if you don’t leave.”
Huffing, straightening his jacket, blood smearing, he struts off. I down more champagne—I need something stronger.
“Who let him in?” I snap.
“Sir, he said?—”
“I don’t care what he said. Next time, I’m stringing shitty guards up on the ice and letting the angry hockey players use them as piñatas during warmup.”
