"Thirty seconds. That's all you have to stop the bullshit, or your son is dead."
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Six years ago, Chelsea Doherty lost everything when her husband disappeared without a trace and left her to clean up his past. Now living in Ireland, she has piec...
This chapter is dedicated to GandalfofspaceAnli whose ONC entry Sal, Butter, and Pepper simply features the most adorable narrator of all: a fluffy golden, green-eyed kitten called Butter, who has such a unique voice, a sense of humor, and an irresistible urge to find the right man for his mistress to break a curse. A great entry that will get you to laugh and to brighten your day.
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Somewhere between Nicosia, Cyprus and New York, USA
February 2024
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The door to the room slides open and I meet Anton's gaze. The coldness in his eyes sends a shudder down my spine.
He tosses my cell on the bed. "Here, you forgot your phone and a text just came in." Pulling the door shut with so much force that the latch bounces back, he disappears again.
I close my eyes and inhale to soothe the turmoil churning in my chest.
Fuck this shit.
Sliding off the bed quietly enough not to disturb Chelsea, I unlock the phone and look at the message.
Lost Jackson Pierce. Will send update when I know more.
I groan. This is bad. Running my hand through my hair, I fight fresh stabs in my head and the rising nausea.
With one more look at Chelsea, I get up and move to the open area of the plane. Anton is in his usual chair with one leg crossed over another, whiskey glass in hand, staring out of the window into the black night. When I sit down, he doesn't acknowledge me. After he had a couple of mouthfuls of whiskey, I break the stifling silence.
"Look, about earlier—"
A swoop of his hand cuts me off. "I get it. You were mad, so you punished me by fucking a girl. No biggie."
Of course, it's always about him. "I was going to say that I don't appreciate you putting a gun to my head. You're my lover, so I expected your loyalty."
He snorts. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Chilling blue eyes cut into me. "You want me to bite the hand that feeds me for a man who told me just hours ago that we aren't in a relationship. Bro, you haven't done anything that would warrant me to choose you over the Disciples."
I stare down at my hands that committed so many atrocious crimes. After everything we've been through, it hurts that I can't trust him any longer.
He downs the drink and slams the tumbler on the table hard enough that a fine crack spindles up the side of the glass. "Besides, I think Icarus is right. You don't give a damn about the organization. Maybe you should consider stepping aside and let Icarus focus on Vitaly as his successor."
"Fuck no. Vitaly is my son, and I don't want that type of life for him."
A vicious glow has snuck into Anton's eyes, warning me that he's about to deliver a blow below the belt. "You were nothing but a sex toy in a fucked-up love triangle, who then turned into the lucky sperm donor." Ridicule colors his chuckle. "You are no father."
