Chapter 42

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Dominic

I grabbed Victor Morales by his jaw, tilting his face upwards so he could look me in the eyes. "My wife doesn't want me to get my hands dirty with your blood so make this easy for both of us and cooperate."

His nod was a mere tremble of his head, the petrification reflected in his tear-clouded eyes ridiculous.

I let go of him and stepped away, shoving my hands into my pockets. The man was so terrified I feared he'd shit his pants.

Was I really that terrifying or he saw in me what he'd seen in my father when he'd dealt with him accordingly for messing around with his underage daughter and extorting her?

He had to because that fear only had one name written all over it and part of me wanted to believe it wasn't entirely because of me.

Keeping him in the basement of the villa for a little over twenty-four hours since I caught him with Greta had been mercy on his part, especially given he'd been treated well through every hour.

If I could, I'd keep him here longer to avoid a bloodbath with my father but Sofia felt unsettled with the idea of a bruised and quivering man living right underneath us. I understood her perspective.

"How'd you meet her?" I aimed my question at him. "How did you of all people cheat your way into her company?"

He was everything she wouldn't be attracted to and everything that'd annoy her within at least a full minute as well as a decade-plus older than her. 

Despite having obvious issues because of her relationship with our father, Greta had never shown interest in older men or men in general, to begin with, apart from the few stunts she'd pulled to piss off our father.

She wouldn't be swayed by a man with zero confidence like him.

"I-I m-met—I—"

He cut his stutters short when he realised I was staring at him. I chose peace over violence.

"Do not waste my time," I warned him. "My wife's waiting for me and I'm not going to keep her waiting for someone like you."

He took a deep controlled breath to calm himself and chisel his words more coherently while I patiently waited for him to get a grip of himself.

"It was the New Year's gala your father hosted," he began with a shallow gasp of air. "That was when I first met her in person."

New Year's? That was nearly seven months ago and I'd only known about three months ago. How had she been hiding their relationship so well even our father hadn't found out from the onset?

"And before that?" I asked him calmly.

"At the company with either you or your father, but we never spoke. I only—noticed her."

The last part of his statement was an intentional murmur, his eyes cast downwards. Vulnerable as he seemed, he was a predator and there was nothing innocent about what he'd said.

"Noticed her?" I asked him, pacing slowly towards him. "What the fuck did you do with her once you got the chance to?"

He was quick to shoot his head up and look back at me in panic, dragging his chair backwards the closer I walked towards him.

"I never had sex with her," he whisper-yelled. "I swear it on my life."

Greta had told me so and I believed her. She was too smart and selective to give herself entirely to him.

I stopped walking, keeping my attention on him. "What did you do to her then? Tell me everything."

I'd caught them making out once on the day I married Sofia. If he'd either not mention or deny it, I wouldn't be held responsible for my actions.

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