33. Marcus #3
I truly hate asking my father for anything, but I did today because I needed to be at the funeral, and now I need to avenge the man who changed my life so drastically, I don’t know how I’ll live without him.
“Lawrence wouldn’t like it.”
“Can you do it or not?”
“Possibly.”
“I’ll also need the identity of whoever hired that hit man. The name of the person who sold them the guns and anyone who aided them, whether it was those who deleted security footage or facilitated their movements. I need everyone related to this. And I mean everyone.”
“Give me some time.”
“How much?”
“A week.”
I shake my head. “Three days or I’m switching to Serena.”
His lips purse.
“I have no loyalty to either of you.” I release a breath. “In fact, I’ll be on the side of whoever gives me the information I need first.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, and for what? A dead man?”
“Get me those names and locations, Dad. The sooner I have them, the better it is for you.”
He releases a sigh. “And then what?”
“Then?”
“After this, what happens, Marcus? Will you be throwing away your life for a man who gambled with his and lost?”
A quiet fire starts in my stomach, growing hotter and wilder by the second, but I choose to turn that energy against my father instead of forcing it inward. “Let me ask you something, Dad.”
“Go ahead.”
“On my seventh birthday, after you didn’t show up to babysit me, and Mom took me to your house, you said you wanted her to abort me.
It was her choice to keep me against your wishes.
” I pause. “It just doesn’t make sense to me, especially after what Serena told me concerning the immunity disease.
Isn’t it in your benefit to have as many children as possible to ensure a male heir or at least to keep your then existing male heir, Lance, alive? Why didn’t you want me?”
“Because of that very reason. If you were born, I’d need to use you, and you probably wouldn’t believe me, but I truly have a soft spot for June.
She’s the only person I chose outside of responsibilities and need for power.
” He smiles softly, staring at where she disappeared.
“So I didn’t want her to get hurt, which would’ve happened if you were compatible with Lance or, later, Leo.
Because I would’ve ripped you from her arms and probably broken her forever.
I was actually relieved you weren’t a match. ”
“You called me a useless child when I was a kid.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I suppose I was frustrated that I couldn’t save Lance and Leo. Maybe I wished you were compatible at the time.”
“Even if it hurt my mom?”
“Perhaps.” He lets out a breath. “There was a time when I considered taking June and leaving this world, but I couldn’t do that.”
“You couldn’t give up the power?”
“No, I couldn’t, and I won’t.” He slides his eyes to me. “But I do want to protect you both as much as I can. It’s why I have people following you at all times.”
“Who…?”
“You don’t need to know, and you wouldn’t notice them. They’re professionals whose job is to keep you and your mother safe.”
So that’s how he knows about me and Preston.
“I couldn’t care less about your protection,” I say emotionlessly. “Get me those names and locations.”
He’s about to say something else, but I’m not listening as I walk away without looking back.
There was a time when I craved his attention, but now, I couldn’t care less about what he has to say. Mom is the only one who’s ever mattered, not him.
The rain soaks me in seconds, the water forming rivulets down my face and slipping into my mouth.
I halt near my bike at the view of a short, lean man carrying an umbrella and a leather-bound envelope. Upon seeing me, he rushes forward.
“Hello, Mr. Osborn. My name is Hayes, and I work for the Armstrongs.”
I swallow thickly. So this is the Hayes that Preston wouldn’t shut up about. My minion Hayes this and my minion Hayes that. Where does Hayes get those cookies? Pretty sure Hayes added it to my calendar. Need to ask Hayes about how to do this. He’s resourceful like that.
Turns out that Hayes is a slim man with large eyes and short brown hair that stops at the collar of his crisp suit.
He passes me the envelope, a sheen of sadness covering his features. “Mr. Preston Armstrong asked me to give you this the morning of the day he got shot. I should’ve brought it to you sooner, but I couldn’t find time. I hope you forgive me.”
My hand instantly leaves wet fingerprints on the envelope.
Hayes starts to turn around, then stops, a small, sad smile curving his lips. “For what it’s worth, he was the happiest I’ve seen him in years since he started talking about you.”
He nods and heads to the sleek black car that’s waiting for him.
My fingers tighten around the envelope.
Preston sent me something?
What could he have sent when he’d already made his choice?
I bite my lower lip until I taste blood.
Yes, Preston got shot, but it wasn’t only because he wanted to protect Violet.
I saw his dead eyes the moment he decided to take that shot.
And he looked relieved.
And done.
Now, I can finally face the reality of what actually happened and the reason I’ll never forgive him.
Preston wasn’t killed. He committed suicide.