Chapter 41 Dominic
DOMINIC
“Put the gun down, Ace.”
Maddox King’s voice sliced through the silence, and Ace didn’t argue or speak.
He lowered the weapon and stepped back. Maddox King moved toward me slowly, pulling off his jacket with unbothered precision.
I stayed ready. Ace King might not know how to handle a gun, but his father? He was born for this.
“Wait outside,” he ordered Ace, eyes never leaving me. “I’ll handle this.”
Ace hesitated. His mouth twitched like he wanted to protest, but one sharp look from his father shut him down.
He obeyed without a word, tossing a lingering glare my way before exiting the restaurant.
Now it was just me and Maddox King. He dropped into the chair across from me, relaxed as hell, like we were catching up over dinner.
The only thing separating us was a cold, untouched meal. He studied me.
“You look like your father,” he said eventually. “A carbon copy.”
He adjusted his belt. My hand twitched again, ready for him to draw a gun, but he didn’t. Just sat back, dragging a hand through his thick hair.
“I’ve seen your work,” he added. “Impressive. Building that kind of reputation so young.”
I said nothing. He leaned forward.
“All your moves. All this chaos and blood just to sit in front of me.”
I didn’t answer, and a thin smile tugged at his mouth.
“You know, I used to handle things like this a little differently, but I made a promise to my wife. Less blood and more reason.”
“Flattering that you think you’ll be the one doing the bleeding,” I said back, and his smile disappeared.
“What was your plan tonight, kid? Well, besides dragging my daughter into your mess?”
“You really want to know, huh?”
“I do. I enjoy hearing the reasons people hate me. It’s always interesting.”
And just like that, I was back there, standing in the wreckage of my childhood. My mother’s blood sticky on my hands. Her lifeless eyes staring at the sky. I leaned forward, venom sharp on my tongue.
“Well, you don’t get my reasons. You don’t get to enjoy them.”
Maddox clicked his tongue. “I took one son from Garrett. Don’t make me take another.”
That was it. The final fucking straw. I flipped the table in one swift motion, crashing plates, silverware, and glass to the floor. The gun was already in my hand, lowered to my side, my breathing heavy. Maddox looked at the mess without flinching. Then he stood unfazed.
“Are you going to point that at me?” he asked, tilting his head. “Or are you just holding it for show?”
“I don’t need a weapon.” I dropped the gun, and his eyes darkened.
“I’m trying to be reasonable, kid. Give me a reason, and I’ll let you live, but I won’t promise you’ll walk again.”
“You pulled the trigger on Garrett’s son. That was your mistake and my reason.”
No shame crossed his face. Just silence as he glanced at the gun on the floor.
“Then pick it up. Finish what you started.”
But I couldn’t.
Because this wasn’t just about revenge anymore. Maddox King wasn’t just him. He was hers. Athena’s father. Killing him means losing her, so I didn’t move. He noticed.
“Fight me,” he barked. “Come on, boy. I’ve seen what you’re capable of.”
Still, I didn’t lift a finger. He threw the first punch. His fist collided with my jaw, sending me crashing to the floor. He was on me in seconds, blow after blow. My ribs, face, skull, but I didn’t block. I didn’t strike back. I let it happen.
“You’re not even trying!” he roared, slamming another fist into my temple. “Why?!”
Blood filled my mouth. My lip was split and my vision blurred, but I forced the words out, even as darkness pressed in.
“Because I’d rather die by your hands than have your daughter hate me for the rest of her life.”
His fist froze midair. His grip on my collar went slack, eyes wide like I’d spoken in a language he’d never heard before.
But I meant it. Every fucking word.
I didn’t care about revenge or winning anymore. All I cared about was her.
Death didn’t scare me. Losing her did.