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“Take it for what it is.” He looks serious. “I am sorry for what I said about that woman?—”

“That woman has a name.”

Eyes that remind me of mine cut in my direction. “You’re still supposed to get married in a year. Nothing has changed.”

“And if I want it to?”

Surprise isn’t one of the emotions darkening his features when he regards me. “Stopwanting it.”

Silence swells between us until I nod, backing awayto return to my office.

“Where are you going, Adonis? This conversation isn’t over.”

Pausing my retreat, I bite the inside of my cheek. “What you want me to say?”

“That you’re done with this unpredictable shit and you got your priorities straight.”

“She is my priority.”

“And you’re still going to marry Chiara Dupree this time next year.” He shrugs. “Get the other one set up in a nice apartment, give her a credit card and tell her to be quiet if she’s that important to you.”

The thought of Delilah being anybody’s side chick shifts something in my brain because it doesn’t even sound right.

“Is that what you did when you married mom? You kept the woman you loved ducked off in the shadows and walked down the aisle with someone else?”

Irritation and resentment rearrange his expression. It’s fucked up but that’s all the answer I need.

“How’d that work out for you?”

“I respect your mother.” He closes half the space between us. “Love is overrated. It’s messy and irrational and wears off.”

I can’t help but shake my head.

“And you cool with me ending up like you?”

“What’s wrong with ending up like me?”

“I don’t know, dad. Appearances are all you care about. You’re not at the top of my list for people I’m taking advice from when it comes to how I want to live my life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I live my life.”

“Maybe not.” I raise my shoulders. “But so far, your legacy is a son you sent away to be raised by people you paid. A son whose birthday you can’t remember and whosehappiness you don’t care about. As long as we look good, you call it success.”

He shakes his head again as his smile turns mocking. “Is that what this is about? You showing out because I forgot to tell you happy birthday?”

“Nah, but it doesn’t help either.”

“Does it help that you never have to work another day in your life if you don’t want to?” He inches closer. “Does it help that you’re not in somebody’s jail right now after killing two people in the last month?”

He’s close enough now to anchor his hand at my shoulder and speak directly in my ear.

“You wanna see me as this monster? So be it. But if I was as bad as you thought that girl and her brother would’ve been dead weeks ago.”

My gun is at his temple before he can finish. “I don’t care what you do to Weston, but don’t you ever fucking joke about killing Delilah again.”

Antoine Samson doesn’t flinch, but his eyes shine with amusement.

“See what I mean?” He snickers. “Irrational. This has never been you, Adonis. You don’t get emotional over anything, let alone women. That woman is your weakness and anybody in a fifty-mile radius can tell. Don’t think they won’t use it to their advantage, either.”