"I won't tell you this twice, Feather," Claude whispered."You just have to get rid of that boy, and then you'll know what it is like to get fucked by a man."
Business magnate's daughter, Isla Templeton (Feather), is the youngest of André Templeton's...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I should have listened to my mother when she warned me about Andre Templeton.
Unknown: Same place at midnight.
André.
The moment I walked into that warehouse, I knew I was trapped.
André stood there with his men around him, always so damn smug. He acted like he had the world in his pocket.
Every step I took felt heavier.
"You knew I was going to go after Damian," I said, my voice tight with rage. I wasn't afraid anymore—just angry. "You told me Isla was going to get help, that you paused the wedding for her sake, but that was never the truth. You wanted Damian to disappear."
Andre didn't even blink. His smirk only grew wider, more infuriating.
"Of course, I lied, Claude," he said like it was obvious. "But what difference does it make? You're the one who signed the papers. You're the one who ended the engagement... and... the one who killed little Isla's future father-in-law."
I felt my fists clench, the rage bubbling up inside me. "Oh, and I might have told Noah that the only way for Isla to be free was to eliminate 'the problem,'—André said between laughs. "Weaks. You both are."
"You're a monster," I spat, stepping toward him, but his men were on me before I could get close.
Their hands gripped my arms, pinning me down as I struggled against them.
Andre's eyes flicked to his men.
"Search him," he ordered, turning away from me like I was an afterthought. His men started going through my pockets, patting me down. I had nothing on me. I wasn't stupid enough to try to record a conversation with André. He'd always been too paranoid for that.
One of the guards pulled my phone out of my jacket, tossed it to André, and without missing a beat, He smashed it against the floor. The crack of glass and plastic echoed through the room, and I flinched, but it wasn't the phone I cared about. It was the fact that I had nothing left—no leverage, no way out.
"No one's going to hear this conversation, Claude," André said calmly, stepping back toward me. "No one's going to save you. You know that."
I gritted my teeth, trying to shake off the hands holding me back.
"I see you haven't killed Noah. Well, son, times up."
I hated him. I hated everything about him, but I couldn't touch him. I couldn't do a damn thing.
"You think you can keep this quiet?" I growled, my voice shaking with the weight of years of guilt. "You think you can control everything?"
Andre laughed, stepping closer until he was just inches from me.
"Control everything?" he said softly. "Claude, I don't need to control everything. I just need to control you."
I felt the pit in my stomach grow deeper, that familiar sense of helplessness creeping back in.
