Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
My vision is starting to blur. I have to get this over with and get him out of here before I lose complete control. “Spare me the bullshit lectures and give me the report, damn it.”
He shakes his head slowly, his mouth set in a firm, disapproving line. “She needs you, too. You realize that, right?”
“Since when is this any of your business? Since when do we get into personal shit?”
“Well, allow me to apologize beforehand. However, I can’t just stand by and watch you fall to pieces. What, did you decide to take a page out of Charlie's book and give your liver a workout?”
“You know...” I stand, forgetting the drink for the time being. “This is something I've been wanting to talk about for a while now. I keep telling myself to let it go, but I've obviously let this thing go on way too long.”
He says nothing, only pulling back his shoulders and lifting an eyebrow.
“Who gave you the idea that you get to talk to me that way?” I ask. “Somewhere along the way, you lost sight of who's who around here. I’m your boss, Romero. I call the shots. You do as I say and don't question my authority.”
“It was a fairly simple question,” he murmurs. Let him pretend all he wants—I see his jaw tightening and the spark of light in his eyes. “I was only asking how your daughter is doing.”
“You want to know why I'm not with her right now instead of waiting for you to give me the information you were supposed to bring hours ago.”
“No,” he counters. “I would like to know why you're allowing this obsession to get in the way of the rest of your life. You know, Tatum still needs her father.”
“And who the fuck are you to tell me that?” I round the desk as he stands his ground, lifting his chin like the defiant son of a bitch he is. “You know, I could hire plenty of other guys to do your job. Maybe that's it. Maybe I went too far, giving you the idea that you were indispensable. No one's indispensable in this world.”
“I realize that.”
“Then you’re either very stupid or arrogant as fuck. Probably the second if you're still going to stand here and defy me.”
“Being arrogant has nothing to do with. We both know it.”
“Don't tell me what I know.”
“You told your daughter you would do everything in your power to help her. Aside from keeping that rapist bastard in a warehouse so you can torment him, what else have you done? Have you taken her to a doctor? Have you spoken to her about what she's been through?”
“You saw how it was the last time I tried that. What should I do? Tie her down to a chair and question her until she begs me to stop?”
“I've seen you do worse for less.”
That’s it. That’s where he knows he went too far. He clears his throat but keeps his head high. He’s a proud asshole, and I want to knock him down a couple of pegs.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I whisper.
His jaw works. “I think you know what it means. If you truly wanted to help her, I mean really truly, you would find a way to get through to her. You’d spend time with her. Except you haven't even tried. Because you're too busy obsessing over Bianca.”
“Don't you dare—”
“I'm not trying to criticize the thing you two have. Only, it's like nothing else matters.”
“Because nothing else does, goddamnit.”
“Not even your daughter? You know,” he mutters, eyes narrowing. “She already has one parent who tossed her aside. Do you want to make it two for two? You’re on your way.”
“Get the fuck out of here. Get out of my house, get out of my compound. Go!”
“I'm not going anywhere, because you don't mean it.”
“Now you're going to tell me what the fuck I mean?” Blinded by rage, I break yet another of my glasses by throwing it at him. He ducks easily and doesn't even flinch when it shatters behind him.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
We both turn in time to watch Tatum dash into the room, flushed and breathless, in her pajamas and slippers. “Why are you screaming at each other? I could hear you from the kitchen!”
“Go back to the kitchen,” I mutter, glaring at the traitor in front of me. “Go, now.”
“No. You're not going to send me off someplace else. I’m not a teenager anymore.”
Fuck I can’t deal with this right now. My head is spinning as it is, and I might have to kill Romero before the night is over. Of course, she chooses this precise moment to defy me. “For once, would you listen when I ask you to do something?”
Romero shakes his head. “This isn't her fault. Don't take it out on her.”