20. True Power
twenty
True Power
Nash
"We'll be there in seven minutes, sir," Enzo's deep voice rumbled from the front seat.
It was an odd sight to see a man of his size squeezed behind the wheel.
He was massive, even for Nash's impressive height.
The bulky muscles helped the dark-haired man appear even larger.
With Carson in Arizona acting as a guard for Daisy and Dahlia, Dolph stationed at the penthouse, Nash had to call in a replacement for his own personal protection.
Not that he needed it. He spent his youth training in the ring against opponents much larger than him.
He hadn't lost a match since he went through puberty more than a decade ago.
It was easy for him, it always had been.
Survival seemed to come naturally to him.
Winning was a language he was well-versed in.
He had to be. Being raised by a father like Jameson meant that he either learned to defend himself or suffer the brutal consequences.
Nash knew at the age of seven that he was expected to raise the family higher in the organization.
Folly on Jameson for assuming that Nash's rise would automatically allow him a similar position of power.
Nash learned early on that his father never loved him.
Not truly. He loved the prestige that having a son as successful as he was brought to him.
Warrick Nash was always on top. Be it in school, sports, or in business.
But Nash didn't bring his father with him on his rise.
He lifted him gently up, just to appease him.
But that was all, he was happy to leave his father solidly beneath his feet.
Nash grunted in acknowledgment of his driver's words.
Never lifting his eyes from the phone. He had more important things to focus on.
His gaze was locked on the sight of Iris sitting curled up on the sofa in the penthouse with a book on her lap.
Leaving her each morning was growing harder.
She had burrowed deep within his skin, so deep that he knew he'd never be free of her.
The thought brought a dark, near sinister smile to his lips.
He had no desire to exorcise her from his psyche.
Why would he? The closer she was, the happier he would be.
He was no fool; he knew she was feeling insecure since they returned to the city.
The thought that she could believe for a second that he was done with her was absurd.
After the fucker that was after her was six feet under, he would turn his attention to his wife once more.
And he wouldn't let her out of the bed for a week. Maybe two.
Movement on his screen prompted his gaze to narrow.
Iris lowered her feet to the floor, letting the blanket that had covered her lap fall to the ground.
The blood in his veins rushed toward his cock.
It hardened painfully. Pressing up against the hard metal of the zipper of his pants.
Her legs were bare, covered only by a tiny pair of silk shorts.
He tapped the screen, zooming the camera to focus on her delicious ass as she padded across the room. Every bounce had him entranced.
A twinge of pain accompanied by the metallic twang in his mouth drew his attention from the phone.
He released his lip from between his teeth and adjusted himself in the warm leather seat to relieve the pressure.
She glided out of frame, and he quickly toggled to a different feed.
There she was, in the kitchen. His eyes locked back on her and watched as she pulled open the fridge and grabbed a meal that the chef dropped off when he was there last night.
"Sir," the deep voice alerted him they had stopped in front of the regal house he was at a few weeks before.
Disgruntled, he tucked his phone away. There were many things he would rather do right then, but he knew that his in-laws must be reeling after all the bad press they were suffering through.
He didn't want to take any chances with them.
They needed to know that they better keep their distance from Iris.
He stepped out onto the driveway and crossed the distance in three long strides.
He stormed up the stairs and threw open the door, not bothering to knock.
Visiting the Blackworths was never pleasant.
But this time, anticipation skirted down his spine.
He'd been waiting for years to put them in their place.
"Mr. Nash, you aren't allowed to come in here!" He ignored the loud and nervous voice from the left of him. Following the hallway to his left, he moved to the office he knew his father-in-law was sitting in. He threw open the door with such force that it banged into the wall with a loud bang.
"How dare you!" Augusta's shrill voice rang through the room. Aster looked up, a nervous glint in his otherwise expressionless face.
"I came to make sure you knew the most recent news article is only the tip of the iceberg." He growled, hatred burning out of his eyes as he took in the woman before him. His lip turned up with disgust.
"You have no right to interfere in our business!" She hollered back, her eyes erratic and her hands clenched.
"You gave me the right when you agreed to the betrothal all those years ago," he said with a smirk.
"You signed your own death warrant when you treated your daughter so poorly.
Did you think I would never find out how you treated my wife?
" Her eyes rolled so far back in her head he saw the whites of her eyes.
"I treated her fine," she snapped. He took a step closer, his whole body tense.
"Fine?" Nash growled. "You starved her. Neglected her. She suffered emotional abuse for years. You agreed to marry her off to a known predator." With each of her crimes spoken so plainly, Nash's anger climbed while Augusta's disdain grew.
"If you care so much for her, you should be grateful that I took the time to cultivate her into a decent wife." Her lips sneered on the word care. As if how he could care for her daughter was a mystery. "Trust me, it was not easy. I made her into who she is. The woman you think is so wonderful."
Nash huffed out a bitter, amused laughed. "The fact you think you had anything to do with her is laughable. She's who she is in spite of you. The only thing I am grateful for is that she shares not one single trait with you." Her eyes widened, and he watched her face turn an ugly shade of red.
"How dare you!" She raged. "I wish you had never come into our lives!
If it wasn't for you, Iris would be married to Ackery right now.
She never had the guts to say no before you came in and ruined her.
" Her words shook his control. "He would have made a better son-in-law than you!
" If she had any sense, she would have realized that his anger had turned deadly.
The energy in the room darkened, even Aster felt it.
Nash watched from the corner of his eye as he lowered his drink to the desk in front of him.
His eyes locked on the predator in the room with them.
Smart man.
"At least he had connections that could help us.
And knew how to be respectful." She sneered at him.
He saw red. He barely heard the scream she released.
His hands were around her neck and he pushed her harshly back against the wall in a second.
Her eyes went manic. The threat of death wasn't enough to curtail her.
"You may have money, but you are too arrogant, too prideful, to have any real meaningful connections.
" She croaked out. His hand tightened further, making it impossible for her to continue.
Nash glanced over at her husband while scoffing. The idea of Ackery being more connected than him was laughable. His father-in-law looked over at them with a nearly bored expression.
"Do you care so little about your wife's life?" He snarled, even further enraged by his apparent lack of concern.
"It would be her own damn fault," he drawled while picking up his whiskey bottle.
"All of this is her fault." He said disgruntled, and then poured a large glass of aged whiskey.
Nash turned back to Augusta, pressing hard for one more moment before pulling away.
She crumpled to the ground as soon as his hand released her.
"If you wanted connections, you would have been smart to a cultivate a good connection with me.
" He turned away with a look of disgust, "but then, I never thought that Iris's brain came from you.
If I were you, I'd prepare for war. Because that's what I'm planning for you.
" With those harsh words, he left the room and then the house.
Nash walked down the house's grand steps, his eyes locked on the car door Enzo was holding open.
Leaving was the best call. Verbally sparring with Augusta frayed his control.
If he had stayed in the study, there was no telling what he would have done.
And murdering her mother might be the one thing Iris would never forgive of him.
"Boss, look out," Enzo drawled, his eyes locked on something over Nash's shoulder.
Nash stiffened, turned on his heel and leveled a harsh glare on Augusta.
She was standing in the open doorway, the light from the house casting her figure in shadows.
The only thing he could easily discern was the malicious glint in her eye.
It flared in the darkness. Her hair was in disarray, in her hands was a vase gripped so tightly that it shook.