Page 25 of Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy 3)
“What the fuck are you doing, kid?” Morello demanded, his voice harsh. “Get the hell out of here, or I’ll fucking kill you myself.”
“Take. Your. Hands. Off. Her.” I spoke each word deliberately.
“You’re gonna die, kid. And I had such high hopes for you.” Morello shoved Hope—I mean, Greta—away. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tearstained face frozen in fear.
“Tell me this is the first time you’ve ever touched her, and all I’ll do is put a bullet in your head.”
“Fuck you, kid. Don’t you dare fucking question me. I’m gonna have your head on my desk as a paperweight.”
“Greta?” I asked, not looking at her, but keeping my attention and gun on Morello.
She sobbed, not answering.
“Tell me now, Morello. Make me believe you’ve never fucking touched her before, or your head is going to be the paperweight.”
My boss finally stilled, realizing exactly how serious I was. “I barely touched the girl. She asked for it. Came in here begging for it. She wanted a taste of a real man.”
“He’s lying,” Greta said, her voice breaking. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”
“How many times?” I asked, my tone low and deadly.
“Every time Dad leaves.”
“Don’t listen to that stupid cunt. She just wants attention like—”
I cocked the hammer on the revolver, and Morello went silent.
“You’re going to wish I pulled this trigger by the time I’m done with you. Greta, get the hell out of here. Go to your room and lock yourself inside. Don’t let anyone in.”
She scrambled to her feet and dashed for the door, fumbling at the handle, which I now realized was locked.
The old Mexican was right. I didn’t care why he wanted me to kill Morello, but he knew I would. I was being played, but that was the least of my worries.
Keeping the gun to the back of Morello’s head, I palmed the wicked-sharp six-inch switchblade in my pocket. It had spilled plenty of blood for him, and now it was going to spill his.
“You’re going to die slowly, you fucking piece of shit.”
“You’ll be next, Mount.”
I pressed the button and the blade slid out. When I jammed it into one of his kidneys, Morello squealed in pain.
“No. That’s where you’re wrong, Morello. Because I’m taking over. As of today, this organization is mine. Anyone who disagrees will die just like you.” I yanked out the blade and shoved it into his other kidney, blood already darkening his otherwise pristine suit.
This wouldn’t be quick or pretty.
When I finished with Morello, his severed head sat on the corner of his desk, on top of a stack of papers. The rest of him sat in a chair across the desk from me. The visitor’s chair, not the boss’s. Then I called in each of the top members of the organization to tell them about the changing of the guard.
Revolution is not without bloodshed, and neither is vengeance.
Keira
Present day
I see it in his face—he’s expecting me to reject him and everything he is. But Lachlan Mount doesn’t know me as well as he thinks, and apparently, I didn’t know myself as well as I thought either.
The story Magnolia told me made me sick to my stomach. The story Lachlan recounted made me want to vomit even more, but for a completely different reason.
I don’t fear him at all. Not a single bit.
