Page 126 of Villainous Kingpin

In all honesty, I shouldn’t be surprised she knew. She probably knew all along. After all, it was her own mother that got shot by my father. Why did it fucking feel like I was the blind one all along?

Tension coiled beneath my skin, approaching the rapture, and I feared if I exploded, havoc would follow. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pack of cigarettes. The same ones I had during my trip to Philly with her. The same pack she asked me not to smoke because she worried I’d get lung cancer.

I gave my head a small shake.

My reason went to shit when it came to the ice princess. I wanted every fucking inch of her body and soul, and all she saw in me was my father. Just like my mamma.

I let out a sardonic breath, while something tightened in my throat and my chest ached. Fucking ached!

So I lit a cigarette because that was sure to cure the ache in my chest. I inhaled deeply until my lungs burned then exhaled softly. Nicotine spread through my veins, somewhat calming me. It was an unnatural kind of calmness, but I still relished in it. Or I’d lose my goddamn mind. All these months I refused to light a cigarette because of her words in Philly and here I was now, smoking one because of her.

Irony at its best.

My gaze settled on the desert landscape. I could see why my sister liked it here. Away from civilization and people. The scent of oil drifted from her outside garage where she spent most of her time, tinkering with junk. It was her escape.

What was Wynter’s?

Calmness washed over me with certainty as I made my decision. It didn’t fucking matter what Wynter knew or what my father had done. She was mine and I refused to let go. I’d warned her from the beginning I wasn’t a good man so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her.

My cell phone buzzed in my pocket, and I dug it out, flicking a glance at the caller id.

Perfect timing for my cousins to call.

“Yeah?”

“Basilio.” It was Byron Ashford, my ever controlling cousin.

“Byron, to what do I owe this pleasure?” I drawled.

Silence rang for five heartbeats and I had no fucking intention to break it.

“You kidnapped Wynter who’s under the protection of Sasha Nikolaev.” My hand tightened around the phone, the plastic protesting my grip. If I never heard the fucking name, it would be too goddamn soon. “Why?” he demanded to know.

I ran my tongue across my teeth. “What’s it to you?” I answered, a sardonic breath escaping me.

“She’s a friend to the family. Basilio, if you—” Byron’s voice held a warning, except it did absolutely nothing for me.

“You’re not calling the shots here, Byron. Stick to your world, and I’ll stick to mine.”

“You’re a prick, you know that, right?” A furious voice sounded in the background. “You fucking tell him he’s a dead prick.”

It sounded like Brennan’s voice.

“Give my greetings to Brennan,” I deadpanned.

“Winston, keep those two from killing each other,” Byron ordered his younger brother, then I heard the door shut.

“What will it take to release her?” My cousin asked.

Nothing in this goddamn world would make me release her. She was fucking mine.

“She’s staying with me. However, I hear you and your brothers are harassing Dante. We have something your brother in Canada wants. He’ll get it, but only if you back me against Brennan and the Nikolaevs.”

I wished I could see Byron’s expression. It would tell me what he was thinking. Byron always tried to make up for his father’s sins. The similarity didn’t escape my notice, but fuck if I’d point it out. He’d want to do right by his half-brother. This could possibly be Byron’s only in with his half-brother. The fucker in Canada was richer than Midas and he’d never need Byron’s money and he definitely didn’t want his father’s last name. In fact, he despised the Ashford name.

“Are you going to hurt the girl?” he asked quietly.

“No.”