Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
ANDIE
There are so many things I have wanted to say to my father. All the words I have stored up for years, each one filled with hatred and loathing. Wanting to use them like lashes of a whip, hoping that every single spoken syllable slices and flays open his skin, leaving him bleeding and begging for mercy. Wanting him to feel every hurt, every disappointment, I have felt being his daughter. Abused. Unloved. Unwanted. Discarded. Ignored. Invisible. Wanting him to feel every drop of anguish Kellan felt as he lay gasping his final breath, suffering the last vestiges of a life our father forced upon him.
But standing before the imposing man now, I say nothing.
Maximillian Rossi sits behind a desk in what looks like a study or an office, his large frame taking up most of the leather chair he’s seated on, like a throne befit for a king. The curtains are drawn, eclipsing the room in semi-darkness, save for the desk lamp that casts shadows on his face and illuminates the room enough for me to see him fully.
Other than in pictures online, I haven’t laid eyes on my father in years. The recent photographs of him don’t do him justice by any means. Rich sable-brown hair with a smattering of silver at the temples. Light brown eyes with a few crow’s feet crinkling the corners. His nose slightly crooked where it was broken a few times in his youth. A faded scar that runs down his left cheekbone. I smile internally every time I see that mark on his face because I’m the one who gave it to him. He may resemble a sophisticated, well-dressed businessman, but I know firsthand the evil that resides within him.
“Alexandria,” his deep voice, deceptively quiet, greets me.
Jax does his usual leaning of his shoulder against the wall, his tablet perched in one hand. Keane walks around the desk to stand at my father’s side, his face staring over my shoulder and not directly at me. Rigid. Unemotional. Funny how Kellan has been so easily replaced by Keane. But maybe that was the plan. Get my brother, the heir to the kingdom, out of the way and clear the path for another to take his place.
Rafe remains at my back like a centurion standing guard. It’s remarkable to see how well my father has groomed these three men from innocent, young teenagers into adult killers who do his every bidding.
Regarding me, my father’s mouth tips down with displeasure, his fingers steepling, as he leans forward, elbows resting atop the desk. If I had Jax’s knife, I would stab my father where he sits. But that would be too easy, too kind a death for a man like him. A man who doesn’t value life, not even those of his own children. No, my father’s Achilles heel has always been power, wealth, and respect. And soon, I will take those three things he covets most and ram them down his throat until he chokes on them.
“It seems that you have placed me in a bit of a quandary,” he tells me, those hard, brown eyes I loathe piercing me where I stand.
“So sorry that my continued existence irritates you.”
His lips thin into a hard line. “Hold your tongue, girl,” he snaps, and I take great pleasure knowing I got a rise out of him.
I hold in my grin. It’s time to put the first chess piece into play. I’ve been thinking of alternate ways I can still get my revenge, since my original plans were blown all to hell.
“What to do with you,” my father coldly contemplates, tapping his fingers together, but I see the eagerness on his face, and it makes bile rise and burn my throat.
“I think we both know exactly what you want to do with me.”
Rafe turns to stone behind me as my father suddenly pushes up from his chair, anger rolling off him in waves. Most men would cower and fear for their lives at his condemning glare. In a flash, he rounds the desk and backhands me, the blow whipping my head to the side. My lip splits again, and blood oozes from the scab that had begun to form this morning. Jax straightens from the wall, no longer looking bored. Keane takes a step around the desk, his eyes focused on my father now. And I can feel Rafe take a step forward, coming closer to me.
My father’s breaths are labored and heaving as we stare one another down. I will not subjugate before this man ever again. Using the tip of my fingernail, I smear it through the blood on my lip, sucking my finger clean, and smile. Might as well go for broke since I have his attention.
“I came home to take my rightful place in this family.”
If I had tossed a grenade into the room, I don’t think it would have shocked everyone more.
“The fuck you are!” Keane shouts.
Rafe hisses near my ear, “Andie, what the hell are you doing?”
I lift my chin defiantly.
My father cuts his hand through the air to order silence in the room. “You’re a woman. Weak. Worthless. I have no use for you.”
My ugly, bitter laugh echoes around the room. He used to have many uses for me. None of them good.
My father’s verbal barbs shouldn’t hurt me anymore, but they do. Like tiny little paper cuts. He cocks his head, his cool brown gaze raking over me.
Turning to Jax, he issues, “You know what to do.”
Jax’s green eyes twitch briefly behind his glasses before banking back into aloofness. “Yes, sir.”
“Max, we should discuss this first,” Keane states.
Ignoring him, my father says to me, “We’re done here.”
Rafe grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him. I guess my alternate plan failed. My father just issued my death. I’ll see you soon, Kellan .
“Rafe, let her go,” Jax tells him. Rafe’s grip on my arm tightens painfully.
As soon as Jax gets within reach, I sidestep and spin out of Rafe’s hold. My hand curls around Jax’s waist and I slip the knife out of his back pocket, brandishing it before me.
My father retreats away from me warily as I hold the weapon in front of me, daring him and the guys to try and touch me again. Keane rushes forward to protect his boss like a good soldier, sliding his body in front of my father’s and whipping a Glock from his waistband, his hand unwavering as he points it at my head.
My eyes dart around the room, making sure Jax and Rafe aren’t about to make any sudden moves.
“Before I die, there’s just one more thing,” I tell my father.
Flipping the knife around, I cut into the flesh of my shoulder where the microchip is implanted. Blood pours out, warm and slick, over my fingers as I dig into the muscle tissue. Once my fingers find the tiny chip, I yank it out and hurl it at my father.
“Go fuck yourself.”
My father throws his head back with a bellow of laughter. “Perhaps I have use for you after all.”
I’m too stunned by my father’s declaration to notice Jax until he’s suddenly right in front of me.
And then everything goes black.