Page 76 of Corrupted Bride

“Please—”

I pull the trigger. Ray’s head cracks back, brains and blood splattering the wall behind him. His corpse slumps sideways in the chair, leaking more blood.

All this for his family. The sad part is I can’t hate him for that. If I were in his position, would I do the same? What’s my life compared to his mother’s? I’m some rich bastard. I live dangerously and if that gets me killed, well, maybe that’s my own fault.

I can feel the rationalization. I can almost sympathize with him.

But Marisol was there, and I can never, ever forgive that.

“Bass—” Nico says.

I walk past him and down the hall. The largest primary bedroom is at the far end. Inside is dominated by a hospital bed. A frail old woman is wrapped in blankets staring at a television, her breathing raspy and soft, her eyes unfocused. I can’t tell if she’s aware of what happened.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Dupree. Your son will be okay.”

Her chin turns toward me. She frowns, confused, but doesn’t say anything.

I switch on the light in her bathroom before I leave.

“And this is the part I hate.” Nico lugs the body into the back of a truck with a grunt. “Fucking hell.”

“You could always outsource it.”

“Eh, you want a job done right, you do it yourself. Besides, digging graves is fantastic exercise.” He shuts the gate and stretches. “I’ll have some of the boys help out, don’t you worry.”

I gaze out over the ranch property. “How many bodies are out there, you think?”

“Thousand by now. Half of fucking Austin. No wonder our grass is so fertile and our animals are so happy. We live on a mass grave.” He howls with laughter as he gets behind the wheel and drives off.

I watch him go before drifting to the main house. I keep thinking of Ray taking that money, feeling so desperate to help his mother that he made the worst mistake of his admittedly mistake-riddled life. I could’ve been him, once. I was him, all those years ago, kicking Dario in the ribs and hating myself for it. Leaving him in the dark.

As I approach, I realize something’s off. The front door’s open and a few people are gathered in the foyer. Their voices carry down to me and I recognize Mari’s angry tones.

“…no fucking way that’s going to happen,” she snarls as I hurry up the steps.

Her older brother Javi stands before her. Three of my guards are behind her, each with hands on their weapons, and another is by his side. Javi doesn’t seem bothered though.

“You think this was my call? Jesus Christ, Marisol, I don’t want to be here right now.”

“What’s going on?”

Everyone looks to me. Javi turns, making room for me to move past him. I stand at Mari’s side, touching her arm lightly. She’s fuming, her face crimson with anger.

“My douchebag older brother here says Cruz has to go back home with him, and I’m telling him that isn’t going to happen.”

Javi spreads his hands. “Bastiano, please. Cruz is fifteen years old. My mom and dad let him stay here for a while to calm everyone down, but they want him home now. You can’t keep him here. He’s a kid.”

“Fuck that and fuck you!” Mari snaps at her brother, and I’m pretty sure she’d go after him if I didn’t put a hand on her arm to hold her back.

This is a shit situation.

On the one hand, Javi’s right. Cruz is a kid and if his parents want him to come home, they have every right to make it happen. They could get the authorities involved and that would be a scandal.

But on the other, Mari’s right.

Fuck that.

“You do realize Cruz is safe here,” I tell Javi firmly. “He’s going to school. He’s protected by my people. I even have a tutor working with him on math.”