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I hear Alfie shuffle into the room, and as I turn, he’s leaning against the doorframe. I don’t try to fight it. I can’t stay at Dr. Alfie’s forever, and despite the concern I feel for my brother, the idea of getting away from this mess makes me feel like I can breathe again.

If I get away, I can always come back. I will come back once everything has calmed down.

“I know where I want to go.”

One Week Later—Austin

The crimson color swirls down the sink in a perfect formation. The twang of copper sweeps the air as I watch the blood drain away. The water stings my split knuckles, but I can’t be sure the blood that’s draining away is my own.

Luca drags the last guy out of the warehouse and into the unmarked van that awaits him outside. He’ll be dropped outside my father’s front door before dawn. Another message. Another warning. It’s not unknown to me that this is exactly what my father wanted. He wanted me back in the fold, back into the business that he’d so carefully molded me to fit into.

But even my father doesn’t understand my wrath, the pain of losing something I was so close to having. To belong to someone else entirely. And for that person to be the smartest, most caring, and most beautiful woman on the planet, who saw me not as a monster, but as a person who could bringherjoy. That is until my father bragged that really he was letting me believe I’d stepped away. And in a way, he was right.

“If you don’t know what’s happened yet, you’re dumber than I thought. Even your fuck-up of a brother could have figured it out. But let me help you out since you’re blinded by a wet cunt. I own you. Until my dying breath, I’ll own your entire life. You think I didn’t know about your pretty little girlfriend, the blogger?”

“It’s not a blog, actually,” I had spat back.

“Pretty little thing, isn’t she? The boys will have their fun with her once I’m through, Austin. That is unless you come back. No more vacation, no more acting like a child. You follow every fucking order I give you. You complete every fucking job. Or that little bitch will be delivered to your fucking doorstep in a body bag chopped up and ready for display.”

So, of course, every one of his men has been delivered to him chopped up in a body bag. We’ve been busy. Not one of them would give him up. I’m not entirely surprised. My reputation has waned in recent years. He isn’t wrong that I’d gone soft.

“Boss, that was the last one. He’s alone now.”

“He’ll have new men by tonight.” I sigh, drying my hands on a paper towel, blood still flowing from my knuckles.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. The rumor mill has been working over time, and they know you’re back,” Luca says, grinning. He’s been all too happy to help me dispose of the men my father has used to hurt Danny, to hurt me. It’s been the first time in years that his taste for violence has almost disturbed me. He’s fucking blood drunk, powering through the work like it’s his life calling.

“I’m not fucking back. I’m finishing this, and then I’m out,” I spit back.

“Well, thank god,” a deep voice interrupts. “This intervention shouldn’t have to last too long then.”

I turn to the entrance, and a dark figure stands with the light outside shining brightly behind him. He looks annoyingly ethereal. It’s not until he steps into the warehouse that I see him fully. The bastard has a few inches on me; he’s broad, filling out his tailored suit to perfection. A lesser man would be jealous, but I’m not a lesser man.

“Ah, Dr. Angel,” I goad. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You missed your appointment.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Luca shifts, clenching his fists.

“I feel insulted you don’t remember me, but then again, you didn’t really pay me much attention at school, Luca,” Alfie sniffs.

Realization clicks for Luca as his eyes bug out in disbelief.

“Alfie fucking Adams. Fucking hell, you grew at least two feet.”

“Unlike you.”

“I can fuck you up, college boy. Don’t you worry about me.”

I roll my eyes. Luca always has something to prove.

Alfie ignores him. Striding toward me, he slaps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing hard.

“How are you?”

“What the fuck?” Luca mutters.

“A bit busy actually. So if you don’t mind,” I snip, pushing past him and heading to the doorway he’s just walked through. The dingy warehouse seems somehow dirtier with him in it. Like this perfectly crisp white shirt is shining a light on the moldy corners, the cobwebs, on just how low I’ve fallen in the space of a week.