Chapter 15: Family, Fury, and No Escape

Tate's POV

It's almost night, and I sit in the pod of an exclusive bar, swirling the whiskey in my glass. The place is dimly lit, quiet, exactly what I need after the chaos of the day. I lean back in my seat, staring into the amber liquid, my thoughts spiraling.

Samael. My weak, pathetic, junior brother. He's always been a burden, always hanging onto the memory of that dead bitch he calls his mother. I never believed she was my mother. Not for a second. Especially after the way she died—brutal, humiliating, and fitting. It just confirmed what I already knew. She was nothing to me.

Samael acted more like her. Soft, emotional, weak. Just like her. While I took after our father. A man I hate just as much. The old bastard tried to control me, tried to mold me into his image. But I'm not his puppet. I don't belong to anyone. Not to him, not to her, and certainly not to that weak excuse of a brother.

Family. It's all bullshit.

And now, to make things worse, the old wench is coming. She never leaves me alone. Always poking her nose into my business, acting like she has some kind of right to oversee my life, my properties. She makes me sick.

I'm just about to take another sip when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen and curse under my breath. Her. Of course, it's her.

I cut the call and send a quick message: I'm on my way.

$$$

At the airport, I stand by the car, my shades covering my tired eyes. I've changed my shirt, but the smell of alcohol still clings to me. I don't care. The cool night air does nothing to calm my nerves as I wait, wondering why I'm even bothering with this.

Then I hear it. That damn shrieky Jersey-accented voice.

"Oh! Look who came to see his favorite aunty!"

I grit my teeth, turning to see the wench barreling toward me, her arms wide. Before I can stop her, she wraps her fat body around me in a suffocating hug, squeezing the breath out of my lungs.

I pull back, frowning. "Why the hell do you have to do this every time we meet?"

She scrunches her nose, beating her hand against my chest like I'm a child being scolded. "Drinking before you came to get me? Really, Tate? Don't you know it's bad luck?"

I roll my eyes. "Spare me the superstitions."

Behind her, I see her dull male assistant struggling with five suitcases, barely managing to keep them upright. Five bags. What the hell does she think? That I'm letting her stay for a whole month?

I don't even bother with greetings. "Why do you have all this luggage? How long are you planning to stay?"

She laughs cheekily, completely ignoring my question as she looks around. "You're too funny, Tate. Where's the ride?"

"Yolanda—" I start, but she cuts me off, squealing when she spots my car. She rushes over to it like a child on Christmas morning, yapping about how she's wanted to buy this model for years.

I clench my fists around the car keys, forcing myself to stay calm. Then I walk over to her, my patience snapping. "Enough with the fake frolicking. Answer the goddamn question."

Her face drops, and I see the shift in her demeanor. That's how she is. One minute, she's bubbly, annoying, and the next, she's cold, cruel. A snake. A viper. A heartless animal.

She throws her bag at her assistant and crosses her arms, glaring at me. "Don't you dare speak to me like that," she hisses, her voice low and venomous. "If I want to stay here for an entire year, you won't question it. Or…" She trails off, her eyes narrowing as she leans in closer, whispering something in my ear that only I can hear.

I grit my teeth, seething with anger, but I know better than to challenge her right now. Not here. Not like this. I unlock the car, and she smiles, satisfied.

"Good boy," she says, patting my cheek like I'm some obedient pet.

I throw the door open for her, and she climbs in, all smiles again. As I get into the driver's seat, I feel my blood boiling. She's talking about the radio, wanting me to turn it on, like nothing just happened. I turn it on, but I'm fuming.

$$$

Cady's POV

I can't believe this. Ronny—of all people—is talking to me like this. Six months of dating, and I meant nothing to him?

As I open my mouth to answer, I hear a female voice in the background. My heart sinks. He's with someone else. I knew it.

Ronny's voice comes back, sounding impatient. "Hurry up, Cady. What do you want?"

I stutter, trying to find the words. "I... I need you to pick me up. From somewhere."

"What?" he says, sounding confused. "Where are you?"

"I know it sounds crazy," I stammer, "but I'm in a tricky situation. You're the only person I could think to call."

He sighs. "It's been six months, Cady. Why are you calling me now? For this?"

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "but you're the only one I know with a car. I just need your help, please. I'll repay you, I'll explain everything later."

"I don't need that," he mutters, and there's a long silence.

I hear the female voice again, and Ronny sighs. "Fine. I'll come. But you'll have to wait. Half an hour, okay? Send me the address."

Relief washes over me. "Thank you, Ronny. I really appreciate it."

He doesn't answer. He just cuts the call.

I bite my lip, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill over. This has to work. It's my only chance.

$$$

Forty-five minutes pass, and nothing. No Ronny. No call. I ask the nurse who walks in if anyone's come to see me.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "No one's been here."

My heart sinks. What was I thinking? That Ronny would leave whoever he's with to come help me? I start to lose faith, feeling stupid for even trying.

But I can't just sit here. Maybe Tate's men scared him away, but if they did, wouldn't he have called me? Something doesn't feel right.

I stand up, and the nurse asks, "Where are you going?"

"I just need to... use the restroom," I mumble, trying to sound casual. "I'm feeling much better."

She nods, and I step out into the hall. As soon as I turn the corner, I'm met with two broad, muscled chests.

Tate's men.

What the hell?