Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) (16 page)

Chapter Twenty

Respect turns to disgust …

surprising even him.

Present Day

Sunday morning, April 26th

“Where have you been?”

Max looked up from his desk to see Angelica marching toward him, the heels of her expensive shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. The sun shining in through the windows of his home office bounced off her blonde hair as she moved closer.

“I’m sorry, sir. I tried to stop her,” Sal informed him as he ran into the room behind the hurricane that was Angelica.

“It’s all right,” he told Sal. “Where’s Leyton?”

“He had to take a phone call.”

Max nodded. “Leave us.”

When Sal closed the door, Max turned his attention to Angelica, leaning back in his seat as he studied her. Just looking at her made him want to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her. But he wouldn’t allow her to see that anger, that fury because that would give her power over him, and that was the last thing Max would relinquish to the bitch. “What can I help you with?”

“Where have you been?” she repeated, her voice shrill. “I know you weren’t home. And I know that you…”

The woman had the good sense to trail off when Max shot to his feet. “I’m not sure how things work in your world, Angelica, but in mine, it’s incredibly rude to barge in unannounced. This isn’t playtime. I have a job to do, and you’re hindering my ability to do it.”

“I…”

Max could see that she wanted to argue, but something stopped her. What, he didn’t know.

“Have a seat,” he instructed sternly, motioning her toward the sofa.

Angelica huffed but walked to the sofa, primly easing down as she kept her knees tightly together, her eyes locked on him.

“Now what can I help you with?” he asked again, taking a seat across from her. “Did you come to offer to pay Dane’s medical bills?”

Anger lanced his insides as he thought about what she’d done to one of his longtime friends, a man who’d stood by Max for nearly a decade. Although Dane would live, would eventually recover from the vicious attack, he would forever be scarred.

“What?” Angelica asked, her eyes widening.

“Cut the bullshit,” he snapped. Max leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Lowering his voice, he said, “I know what you did. I know you sliced his fucking face wide open. Did you know it took one hundred and seven fucking stitches to sew him back up?”

Angelica didn’t say anything, but he could see her seething. She was definitely more malicious than he’d given her credit for.

“Or did you just come to talk about the wedding?” he snarled, leaning back and regarding her with the hatred that filled his gut every time he looked at her.

“Why were you with her?” Angelica hissed.

“With who?”

“Don’t you dare play stupid with me, Max. I know you were with …
her
.”

Max lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue her rant.

Shockingly, she was silent, but her eyes bored holes in him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move as he waited for her to say what she needed to say.

“We’re moving the wedding date up,” she finally snapped.

Max sighed and got to his feet. “Angelica, I’ve got shit to do. See yourself out.”

“No!” she screamed.

He returned to his desk, ignoring her as she stomped toward him.

He pivoted to face her, took two steps closer, and fisted his hands at his sides. “How would you like to spend some time in prison?” he asked.

Her head snapped back as though he’d hit her. “What are you talking about?”

Max cocked his head to the side. “One hundred and seven fucking stitches, Angelica.”

“You wouldn’t turn me in,” she spat. “My grandfather—”

Max lunged toward her, grabbing both of her arms and jerking her forward. He lowered his face to hers, their noses touching. “Don’t ever tell me what I will or will not do. And don’t you
ever
fucking try to threaten me. Are we clear? You don’t have a motherfucking clue what you’ve gotten yourself into. You’re expecting sunshine and goddamn roses in exchange for protection, and that’s the last fucking thing you’re gonna get. Cross me one more time, cause any more fucking damage, so much as breathe the wrong way and your grandfather will be making funeral arrangements for his beloved granddaughter. Because I will call Marcus Alvarez myself. Feel me?”

Angelica’s eyes opened wider than before. Yeah, he was on to her game. It hadn’t taken long for him to find out who she was running from and why.

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered, her voice hard, cold.

“Don’t test me.”

Max let her go, taking a deep breath as he returned to his chair and lowered himself into it.

“You don’t have a say in this,” she ground out. “If you want that land, this will go my way. I’ve already changed the date. We’re getting married on the sixteenth.”

This time, Max chose to ignore her.

Before Angelica could get another word in, the door to Max’s office opened, causing him to look up. He slowly got to his feet as he watched his father move purposefully across the room.

“Everything okay?” Max asked Samuel.

“We need to talk,” his father said, glancing over at Angelica. “I need a minute alone with my son. That’ll be all for now.”

Max watched as Angelica’s big blue eyes grew in disbelief, her disdain evident. Nope, today certainly wasn’t her day. And wasn’t
that
interesting. And here he’d thought she actually understood the structure of his family. Apparently, being sheltered in the political world had left this woman without the accurate image of what true power really was.

“Now!” Samuel growled.

Angelica jumped, a slight squeak escaping her. With a huff, she turned and stormed out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. Thankfully, Sal did the honors, leaving Max alone in his office with his father.

“Sit,” Samuel advised, moving closer to Max’s desk.

Max adjusted his suit jacket but didn’t take a seat. “Something wrong?”

“I received a phone call yesterday.”

Max waited for his father to continue.

“From your good friend Artemis Winslow. He was … agitated.”

“Did he say why?” Max questioned, not actually giving two shits about Artemis Winslow and his frame of mind.

“Apparently, his granddaughter called him in the middle of the night on Friday, informing him of her future husband’s infidelity.”

“Before or after she sliced Dane open?” Max retorted, fury igniting in his veins.

“Whose fault was that? He let her get one up on him. He deserved what he got.”

Max kept his lips tightly closed, rage coursing through him. That was one of Samuel’s downfalls. He’d never truly understood loyalty. According to him, everyone was expendable.

Samuel paced away from him. “Usually, I wouldn’t stick my nose in your business, but I’m makin’ an exception this time.”

Max didn’t like the sound of that.

Samuel pivoted on his heel and thrust his hand through his thick black hair. “This,” Samuel began, waving his other hand around, “is all yours now. You do what needs to be done. Understand? I won’t question your motives, but your head better be in the fuckin’ game. If not, I’ll rip it all out from under you in a goddamn heartbeat.”

Max didn’t react.

“That girl… You need to stay away from her.”

Max knew exactly which “girl” his father was referring to. He also understood why. Courtney Kogan was part of the organization that had been assigned to get dirt on Max’s family. She’d been the one they sent, and Max knew why. Infiltrating his world wasn’t easy, but she’d managed to put herself front and center in his life and was likely putting together all of the information she had in order for the feds to take him down. It wasn’t the ideal situation, he would agree, but Max hadn’t been able to resist her. Hell, he still couldn’t. And that made her dangerous.

“She’s not a problem,” Max told his father.

Samuel thrust his hand through his hair once more, glaring at Max. “Sit down.”

This time Max dropped into his desk chair, but he didn’t relax the way Samuel did when he took a seat opposite him.

“Did I ever tell you the story about how I met your mother?” Samuel prompted.

Max watched his father cautiously, curious as to where this was headed. It wasn’t like Samuel to share details of his life, not even with his own kids.

“The state fair,” Max replied, remembering the brief story he’d heard when he was younger.

“True,” Samuel said with a malevolent grin. “I met Genny at the state fair. She was thirteen, I was twenty-one.”

Although he was well aware of the age difference between his parents, he hadn’t known she’d been a child when they’d met. He’d assumed… The thought of a thirteen-year-old wanting anything to do with Max’s father sent a chill shuddering through him. That detail had never been part of the story.

“Genny’s father, Clyde, was a gamblin’ man,” Samuel said, his eyes looking far off, as though he were revisiting a different time and place. “Loved the horses, that man. He got himself into a bit of a bind, needed a loan. Your grandfather had done some business with Clyde’s old man a time or two, so when Clyde came to him, seeking a loan to help pay off his debt, Floyd felt sorry for him.

“Unfortunately for Clyde, he hadn’t made good on that debt, and when I was sent to collect … well, he didn’t have the money to repay me.”

Max’s stomach churned as he predicted where the story was headed. It made sense, explained so much. Still, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Your mother was the repayment for that debt,” Samuel said simply, meeting Max’s eyes. “Clyde’s only child. A beautiful thirteen-year-old virgin who’d thought she had her life in front of her was promised to me. If you want the truth, she was hard to pass up.

“So, needin’ to ensure Clyde understood how serious I was, I accepted the offer. Arranged for him to deliver her at the state fair, took possession of her at that time. A few weeks later, I married her, took her virginity. Eventually, years later, knocked her up. Don’t get me wrong. I tried tirelessly for years, but she’d pulled one over on me. Damn birth control. It was her fault, really. Apparently she’d had some intrauterine device implanted”—Samuel waved his hand dismissively—“but eventually she had it removed and went to taking a pill.”

Max swallowed hard. For the first time in his life, he felt something that didn’t even remotely resemble respect for the man. No, this was hatred. His father had doomed his mother to this life because of a debt. And his grandfather. Clyde. How the hell could he simply hand over his daughter to Samuel?

“Oh, don’t look so upset,” Samuel said dismissively. “She knew the stakes. I gave her two options. She would marry me, spend the rest of her life with me, or I’d kill her father. It was her choice.”

Right. Because that was a fucking choice.

“Clyde’s still breathin’ to this day, and well, you know how it turned out.”

Yes, Max knew exactly how that’d turned out. Genevieve hated Samuel, hated her life, and spent most of her time getting fucked by the hired help or drowning herself in booze. But at least her father was breathing. He wondered what Genevieve’s mother would’ve said about it all. The woman had died during childbirth.

Max sighed. “And what’s the point of your story?”

Samuel leaned forward, his eyes hard. “What I didn’t bother to tell you was that, at the time, your mother had a boyfriend. Nice, well-off young man who’d promised to marry her and give her a perfect life when he got back from the military. He was quite a bit older than she was but younger than me. A bit of a prude if you wanna know the truth. Never touched her.”

“She was thirteen!” Max exclaimed. “How old was he?”

“Seventeen or eighteen, I think. Anyway, that doesn’t matter because she was mine. But that boy, he wasn’t happy that he’d lost her, although he’d started a new life, waitin’ for her to grow up, to be old enough for him to claim her. Accordin’ to Genny, he was comin’ back for her. She used to love throwin’ that in my face.”

Fuck. Genevieve had been thirteen. What the hell would any fucking grown man want to do with a thirteen-year-old girl?

“Did he?” Max asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“No, he didn’t,” Samuel snarled. “He didn’t come back for her because he made a new life for himself, established a reputation that people respected, fell in love with a good woman.”

Max studied his father. “Who was he? What was his name?”

Samuel glared back at him, hatred igniting in his golden eyes. “Casper Kogan.”

Max’s eyes widened as the shock hit him square in the chest.

Courtney’s father?

Genevieve?

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

So it wasn’t merely a coincidence, or even just a job. Courtney had been sent there … because of her father?

Samuel got to his feet. “I knew you’d figure it out. And if you know what’s good for us all, you’ll stay the hell away from that girl. We can deal with a lot of things, Max, but this man has a vendetta against me. He hates me for what he believes I did to Genny, and I’m sure he’s out for revenge.”