Not going to stop until…

STEFAN’S POV

I would have killed her right then and there, but as my father always yelled. “Timing is everything.” And with what seemed to be half of my father’s guard department outside, timing wasn’t on my side.

“What on earth does he want this time?” I growled, raking a hand through my hair as I paced in my bedroom.

“I’m afraid I don’t know myself,” Sophie, my secretary, responded.

Frustratingly, I stormed out of my bedroom and headed for the garage. My eyes narrowed as a pair of familiar headlights turned a corner. I walked towards the all-back Cadillac before swinging the door open and sliding into the backseat. I slammed the door in frustration, causing the entire car to tremble.

The guards seated across from me, stared at me with fear in their eyes as the ignition started. As we continued, their eyes met mine before their gaze began drifting down to my neck.

“What?” I grimaced. My voice came across as colder than intended. They quickly turned their attention towards the road, avoiding my menacing gaze as we headed for my father’s. I brought my fingers to my throat and felt my warm blood dripping down my throat and onto my white shirt. I realized I must have gotten a cut from my little outburst a couple of minutes ago.

I looked at my reflection in the window beside me and raised my chin to get a better view of the gash. Not enough to kill me, but deep enough to scar.

“Yet another scar caused by that arrogant man of a father!”

Konstantin Motherfucking Zoric

Growing up with a man whose only interest from the very onset had always been raising a company more influential than that of his competitive peers. And all of that made it worse in the head from ever getting to hold back my hate towards him.

But for five years, five motherfucking years, I’ve been trying to have him thrown off his position as CEO. Wanting nothing more than to ruin my father’s plans of turning the family business into a deep illegal business that could make us the world’s richest and most powerful family. And for five years I’ve managed to fall short every single time.

I clenched my jaw as my hands began to shake. I pursed my lips as I let my frustration out on the window beside me, punching it repeatedly. With one last jab, the window shattered, causing the two men in the front to look at me through the rear-view mirror with wide eyes.

Looking down at my now bleeding hands, I realized I loathed my father. The hatred I felt for him surpassed anything I had ever felt. Even worse for the fact that I was forced into marrying her. and when I say her, I mean the annoying damn girl Tory.

But for some reason, my senses were imprinted with the smell and feel of her, the lush sensuality of roses mixed with the rich warmth of vanilla, the brief, tantalizing glide of her hand against mine at the alter the other day. The static charge I felt when we held hands, it was so close I could almost taste it. And for once my thoughts were consumed with something other than work.

I blinked, shaking off thoughts of the damn girl, knowing one wrong tug at the latter and everything would unravel. I mean, I have worked too hard to let something as unreliable as a passing fantasy ruin things.

Secondly, even if I did need to loosen up like I was told by Gerald, which I still didn’t and wouldn’t, I would do so with anyone but Victoria. She was totally off limits, no matter how beautiful or intriguing she was, not only because of my usual no-fraternization rule but because she was going to be the death of me in one way or another.

Still, lust rushed through my veins in all its raw, hot glory at the thought of dipping my head over her, of tasting, testing, and exploring whether she was uninhibited in the bedroom as she looked.

“Fuck!” I muttered, seeing that I was slowly getting distracted.

*********************

My father’s magnificent mansion from a distance came into view as I adjusted my shirt, ignoring my bleeding neck cut and wrist. I hopped out of the car and stormed into the mansion. Still fuming from all that had happened these past few days. I made my way past the stairs and headed for my father’s office, replaying our last family conversation. Not believing in knocking as usual, I grabbed the silver handles of the large double doors and barged in.

On entry, I found my father pacing his office. Screaming over the phone, and you could tell when he was pissed whenever he had a hand stuffed into his pants. Without a word, I made my way to the chair in front of him and settled in, glancing at my watch.

“I don’t care what you have to do in getting this shit cleaned up, just fucking do it!” he snapped and then hung up, crashing angrily into the chair in front of me.

“Your brother is going to be the end of me.” He grumbled with both eyes shut.

Luka was my little brother, whose biggest dream has always been of him becoming an artist which my father has clearly been against. Instead he always wanted him to be part of the business just like me.

“Get Mike and the others, we have goods coming in tonight. I wouldn’t want the eyes of the police department on those goods in particular,”

“Why is that father?” I asked, knowing he was at it again. Probably into smuggling like old times, and that angered me to the veins.

“Nothing you should worry about son, but we can’t have a repeat of last year,” he responded, giving me a tap on the shoulders as he stared at me like he was glaring directly into my soul. Oblivious to the fact that I had ruined that plan in particular.

And I wasn’t going to stop until I had him behind bars!