Page 166 of Powerhouse: Boxed Set
He crumpled to the ground, out like a light.
“Bianca,” I called out as I stalked toward Bryant who was quickly pulling his own weapon from the holster under his suit jacket. “Get the fuck out of here.”
There was a brief hesitation and then the rapidclickof heels against the floor.
It crossed my mind like the shadow of an incoming storm that I might never see her again. My secret had been exposed cruelly with no time to explain. My deception plain to see. Every moment we’d had, any hope she’d harbored that I could be a good man, evaporated in an instant. Agony tore my heart into bloody, throbbing pieces.
I focused.
My gun was up and at Bryant’s chest the next moment.
But so was his, pressed into the left side of my torso, just over my heart.
A stalemate.
We stared at each other, his Morelli dark eyes sticky black, threatening to suck me into the dark.
“What now, son?” he taunted.
“You promise to leave Bianca Belcante alone,” I ground out, my heart beating slow and steady.
I’d been at the end of a barrel too many times to count. This was nothing.
Bryant cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think so. She has something I want. She has the key to tearing down the Constantine empire. Lane’s sterling reputation will be dragged through the mud, and with it, Caroline and her brood.”
“At what cost?” I demanded, digging the cold metal hard into his barrel chest. “You draggedCarterinto this. What did you have to do to get him to agree to this? Is revenge really more important than your own fucking family?”
A slow, liquid smile poured across his face. “Yes.”
My own question echoed through my skull.
Was revenge more important than my family?
At first, I’d believed I was doing itforthem. For the Morellis.
But why did I consider them my family when they’d done nothing but ostracize me and use me?
Technically, I didn’t even have Morelli blood running through my veins.
Neither did Ezra or Walcott or Henrik.
Neither did the Belcantes.
But they…they cared about me.
It was obvious when I let myself think about it.
They cared about me enough to take me as I was.
Man or monster.
And there I was jeopardizing it all because this fucking asshole had programmed me to believe I was worth nothing if I didn’t earn his praise.
“What are you going to do, boy? Let some Constantine trollop brainwash you into believing you belong with her? It’s all lies. You’re a Morelli. You belong with me,” Bryant taunted smoothly. “Are you so far gone that you’d shoot your own father?”
Brando’s face came to mind, the mess of blond curls and the missing-tooth smile cracked wide whenever I was near because I’d earned his admiration and adoration.
Bianca.
