Page 16 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter fourteen

Mavik

T aking a deep breath, I glide my index finger across the smooth wood of the wolf figurine.

The touch instantly calms me. I can’t believe Peyton made it for me.

In all the hours I’ve secretly spent watching him carve things, I have never seen him make anything for anyone other than himself or his brother. I’m curious, though—why a wolf?

After another deep breath, I let Hunter’s words settle in my mind. “What do you mean I have to get married in order to inherit my own damn company?” I grit out.

Hunter flips the legal paperwork so that it’s facing me and taps on the paragraph in question. “Exactly that. In order to gain ownership of the company and most of his shares, you need to be married for an entire year in order to keep them.”

I shake my head, still in shock. “And who gets the rest of his shares?”

“He left 5% to your mother, 5% to me, and another 5% to your future spouse.”

Future spouse. Fuck me.

“And if I don’t marry?”

“Then Blackwood Investments goes to one of your cousins.”

I shake my head again. He hated my cousins. They’re gold diggers who never cared about Mick until they found out he was sick. “What the fuck were you up to, old man?”

“I have no fucking idea. I was under the impression there isn’t a happily ever after for you and me. Hazards of the job and whatnot. Gaining a spouse just seems like another problem. More obstacles to work around. Not to mention, it makes keeping our secret that much harder.”

“Agreed. Okay,” I sigh. “Let me see this damn letter.”

Hunter hands me a fancy envelope that’s sealed with a wax stamp. I arch a curious brow. “And you didn’t open it?”

Hunter laughs. “Trust me, I was tempted. But I love your uncle. He was like a damn father to me. If he wanted you to read this in private, then it’s not meant for me. It’s up to you if you want to share.”

“Thank you, Hunt.” I break the seal and pull out the letter. My uncle’s voice practically coming off the page as I read.

Mavik, my boy,

If you’re reading this, then I’m sorry to say I’m no longer in your life. Which means you’ve also heard the news and the hoops I’m making you jump through in order to gain ownership of your company. Because let’s be honest, Blackwood Investments has been your business for years now.

Please don’t be mad at me. I just want the best for you. You’re so young and deserve some happiness, despite what you might think. You’re like a son to me, and I know you’ve had your eye on someone for quite a while now. Don’t think I don’t see it. I might be old, but I’m not blind.

One year. It’s all I ask. One year of happiness that will hopefully turn into a lifetime. I know this will make things difficult for you, but I know you can do it. Even if you need to give up…other things.

And most importantly, don’t forget I’m always proud of you. You took care of your mother. You looked after Hunter, and you helped so many others. Don’t let the darkness consume every part of you.

Marry him, son. Or marry someone else who will make you happy. And for shit’s sake, don’t let your cousins take your company away from you.

Love you always,

Uncle Mick

A heaviness settles in my chest, a lump forming in my throat. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I reread the letter, again and again. Not because it doesn’t make sense, but because these are the last words my uncle wanted me to hear.

Finally, I hand the letter over to Hunter. He eyes me for a long moment before he reads it. He must reread it as well because he takes his time looking at it before bursting into laughter. “Holy fuck. I’m glad your uncle isn’t holding my company over my head, because he left me a letter as well.”

“And you didn’t read it?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. You know Uncle Mick. He can be pretty damn scary when he wants to be. I was waiting to see how your letter turned out first.”

I bark out a laugh, some of the tension leaving my body. It’s true. Just because he had a heart of gold didn’t mean he wasn’t one scary motherfucker.

Hunter reaches across the desk and grasps my hand. He gives it a squeeze. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, Hunt. Who the fuck am I going to marry?

” As soon as the words tumble from my mouth, Peyton comes to mind.

The way he felt wrapped in my arms. How vulnerable he looked, and yet how trusting he was with me.

I’ve never seen him look at anyone that way.

I touch the wooden wolf in my pocket. The Daddy side of me, the one I’ve kept buried deep, yearns to come out.

I want to take care of Peyton. Protect him. Hold him in my arms every night.

The idea of going home with Peyton, making sure he’s safe and cherished and loved while feeding him properly and caring for him, is something I want more than anything.

Maybe even more than my revenge. But I can’t let my feelings for Peyton distract me.

Not when I’m so close to finishing my list. Only one person is left.

But then what? Eighteen years of killing, and eighteen years of enjoying it.

And that’s what fucking scares me. Once I kill Daniel Sinclair, I know I won’t be magically cured.

I’ve fed this obsession to hunt and eliminate the evils from this world for so long, I don’t know who I am without it.

This sick, dark craving isn’t going to go away.

All the rapists, abusers, and scum of the world aren’t going to suddenly disappear.

And this deep hunger I’ve been feeding isn’t going to suddenly be satiated.

If I marry someone, the killing isn’t going to stop.

It’s only going to make my life harder. Plus, who the hell would want to marry a serial killer?

“You know, there’s a boy right outside my office who would probably be willing to marry you in a heartbeat.”

I roll my eyes. Fuck. First, my Uncle Mick, and now Hunter?

“What? Afraid your assistant won’t be into all that rough sex or Daddy kink stuff you’re into?” Hunter teases.

“Shut the fuck up, Hunt,” I reply, but there’s no real venom in my tone. What a tempting little picture that paints. My bratty little Peyton in those pretty coral panties, giving me a real, in-person show.

“Aw, don’t be like that. All those ‘ Yes, sir. No, sir. Please, sir.’ It wouldn’t be that hard to replace it with another word. ‘ Yes, Daddy. No, Da —’”

“I said. Shut . Up .” Images of Peyton on his sofa in those pretty little coral panties fill my mind, causing blood to rush to my cock. I don’t even bother covering it up. Images of my assistant on his knees before me come to mind. Fuck. This is so not the place to pop a damn boner.

I readjust myself in my pants. Hunter’s eyes track my movements and barks out a laugh. “Settle down, Daddy.” He leans across his desk and shoves a file in my hands. “I have some information for you that might cheer you up.”

The manila folder is light. It doesn’t even feel like there’s anything inside it. I open it up and note that it’s another will, but this one is straightforward.

Hunter’s gaze bores into mine. “I took care of Carl’s wife and daughter. The asshole was going to leave everything to his business partner. They had no idea just how much money Carl had.”

“That fucker. He used them as an excuse while begging for his life. Said they depended on him.”

Hunter’s smile widens. “Well, good. Now they have enough money that they’ll never have to depend on anyone else for the rest of their lives. They even get to keep the house, white picket fence, and all. You might want to consider a place like that if you’re planning on getting married.”

I sigh. “People like us don’t get the white picket fence and the happily ever after, Hunter.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “But maybe we should try anyway.”