If you wish, follow me on Instagram @kelicityy
Also, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I wrote this when I was on the verge of giving up (on something else, not this book) and I felt really down. Sorry for the late update.
But Carlton and I are back baby!! ;)
Love, K!
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Dedicated to:dominastic2002
Thank you so much for being so extremely supportive! It really makes me happy to see your lovely reviews! Also, that moment when you mentioned "Carlton" as your favourite book, I literally couldn't contain myself (T.T)
"He's the sugar coated taste of sin, a darkness that's worth letting in."
~ @cayswords_ ; Instagram
Carlton's POV
It felt as if the gun would slip from my hands from fear. My fingers quivered inhumanely, the possibility of the next few events washing over me like an anticipated nightmare.
"J-Jovan?" My words echoed in my head and I was left wondering if I even heard myself right.
Very slowly, I put the gun down.
I couldn't kill Jovan.
He worked for my Father, but he had played a big role in my life. Since I was a little boy, he treated me like his own son, dropped me and picked me up from school, defended me from the bullies and sometimes even attended the parent meetings at school when Father was busy.
He was family.
With respect, I let my arm hang beside me and watched him do the same.
"Jovan," I said, when I finally gained my conscious back, "What're you doing here?"
His face wrinkled as he scowled at me, not angrily but with disappointment. "Carl, your Father wants you to come home."
I clenched my teeth hard until my jaws hurt, passing a short glance towards the flabbergasted Damien.
"Why-"
I cut myself off when my eyes landed on something that made my head spin.
Phil was lying unconscious in the corner of the living room and just a little beside him, two men in black suits were holding Breanna hostage.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins in a frenzy, fuelling my anger that sweltered my respect away.
Clutching the hilt of my pistol, in a flash, I pointed it right at Jovan's forehead again.
They dared to lay their filthy, sinful hands on her. I wouldn't think for a second before blowing their fucking brains out!
In response to my sudden act, he pointed his pistol at me too ensued by Damien pointing his gun at him.
The three of us maintained our stance, glaring at each other.
My eyes fell on Damien's face.
I had never seen him so enraged in my life. His lips were pressed together, eyebrows knitting as he grimaced at Jovan with utter loathing.
"You can't kill me, Jo," I breathed, warning him, "Put the gun down."
In acceptance, he did, a grin tugging on the sides of his lips.
He knew that if he hurt me, my Father would go after his entire family.
But I could kill him if I wanted to, so I didn't put my pistol away. "Let her go."
One of the guys had locked Breanna's arms behind her back, and the other had a gun pointing to her head.
She was crying.
Fuck.
He completely ignored me. "Your Father's orders. He wants you to return."
"So he thinks that kidnapping her would make me listen to you?! If he wants me home, ask him to come here himself!" I was screaming now, glaring at the weapon of death pointing towards her. "Put the gun down!"
"I'm just doing as I'm told, son." His face softened a little bit when I put the gun down myself.
When he said "son", it stripped away my power to threaten him. Jovan wasn't a bad person. He worked for my father, but he never supported him in his dirty world of illegal arms dealing.
He was more like a friend to him than an employee.
And to me, he used to be a role model. He had always been the big, bad guy that everyone in the neighborhood stayed ten meters away from.
A diamond, hawk-shaped brooch, pinned on his suit, shined under the rays penetrating from the thin curtains in the small apartment.
He fixed it before looking at me apologetically. "I don't have a choice."
"Jo...I can't come home." I glared at the men holding Breanna, with disgust. "I said, put the fucking gun down, you rats!"
They finally listened to me, letting her go.
Tears streamed down her face and my heart broke into a million pieces.
"I understand, but there's nothing I can-"
"Please. I'm helping her with something." I begged him. "I ran away from home for a reason."
He looked back at Breanna. "She killed one of my men yesterday."
"Y-You sent him?" Damien gasped and I contained myself and my emotions after hearing that.
"We killed him," I said, "He broke into her house. He deserved it."
As I spoke, a knot formed in my stomach.
How pathetic. My Father sent Jo and his guys to kidnap Breanna so he could blackmail me to come home.
What a paternal thing to do!
I was almost impressed.
Jovan was not pleased to hear this, judging from the way his eyebrows shot up. He probably didn't think that young Hargrave would ever kill a guy.
But guess what, Jo? It's in my fucking blood.
Deal with it.
"You're still a kid, Carl. There's so much left for you to understand about this world."
Here we go with the philosophical lectures again.
I wondered how he got caught up in this crap. He was certainly one of the top three people in my Father's trust list.
Did he really want me to come home so urgently that he sent his best warrior?
But I knew for a fact that Jo couldn't possibly do anything about it. When it involved Theodore Hargrave — an order, was a fucking order.
I sighed, annoyance anointing my tone. "Give me some time. I will reach out to you once I'm done with my work."
Casually, he began tucking his gun back into the chest belt under his blazer. "Fine. I will leave for now. But you know how your Dad feels about broken promises."
I nodded as he ushered his men to step away from Breanna and to walk out of the apartment. Before leaving, he said one last thing. "If you don't reach out soon, we're coming after her. I'll be watching you, kid."
A swift hand wave later, he disappeared outside the door like a ghost; a ghost that just made my life worse than it already was.
For a few seconds, I just breathed the dust-ridden air around me, trying to wrap my mind around what happened and why.
That was until my gaze landed on Breanna, who was shaken to the core, wiping fretful tears.
Steadily, I walked in her direction, until I was standing very close to her.
Through my squinted eyes, I looked down at her clamping her mouth with her hands to stop the whimpers.
Just why does she have to suffer like this?
I held her arms gently and pulled her closer to me. When I felt her hands on my heaving chest, I hugged her.
I didn't know what to do or say at this point.
I had no idea what she would be feeling, now that literally two powerful and dangerous people were out for her life.
And I was indirectly the reason for both of them.
Her nails dug into my shoulders as she wept and all I could do was rub her back in unsuccessful attempts to soothe her.
What did Father want? It had been almost a year since I left him. Why reach out to me, now?
Nevertheless, I couldn't hurt Breanna more than I already had. Which left me no choice but to go home and see him in person.
The thought of going back to the place that had left me with scars, that still bled, made my heart clench with pain.
But I would do it for her.
Damien was kneeling next to Phil, who was now regaining consciousness very slowly after being knocked out earlier.
"He's okay," Damien said as he helped him sit up.
If I hadn't known better, I would've snapped at him for not being able to protect Breanna.
But an unfamiliar tightness in my heart stopped me from doing that.
I looked back at Breanna and found her staring intently into my eyes. "You didn't tell me that you ran away from home."
Gulping, I gave her a nervous smile. "Couldn't handle my father."
Her eyes were glistening, scrutinizing me like never before. She had always looked down at me with resentment and hate; it was different now, but I couldn't exactly point out what.
A stern expression swept over her gentle features. "You're not going anywhere."
I couldn't feel anything but love for the girl in my arms. "I have to."
"No!" She clutched the fabric of my tee. "I'm not your responsibility! Would you have gone if it wasn't for me?"
I thought about it for a moment. I detested Father for making me go through such a rough childhood and for all the lies; I would never go back, no matter what.
Unless of course, for her. "No. But-"
"Then don't go!" She begged. "I know your father. You don't deserve this!"
Wow.
Nobody in my entire time of existence had ever told me I didn't deserve to get hurt.
And ironically, it came from Breanna Riley.
I had always thought that when people looked at me, they saw a privileged asshole with his father's money.
And I admit that I am.
I knew I was the worst kind of human and I took pride in that.
Surprisingly, today of all days, it felt really good to know that someone was actually worried about me getting "hurt".
A smile formed on my lips.
Finally, she and I were getting somewhere. I wouldn't give this up for anything.
We were supposed to think of a plan last night, but I had a fight with Damien and screwed it up.
An idea struck me and I gestured at my friends with eagerness. "I say, let's leave for Boston, now."
They all looked at each other.
"Jo is watching us, especially me. If we leave for Boston, right now, we might outrun them." I looked at Damien with enthusiasm. "Book a flight now. Is that okay with you, Bree?"
She seemed to have fallen silent. "I don't know if I can afford the ticket-"
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that!" I smiled. "Just tell me, if you want to come with us?"
Licking her lips, she tucked her bangs away and finally nodded slowly. "Yes."
My heart flew away to cloud nine.
She was learning to trust me.
That was everything I'd ever wanted.
"Pack up," I said, and she rushed away into her apartment.
Damien was on a call with his aviation team, booking a flight to Boston in his private jet; and I helped Phil place an ice pack on the site of the attack.
"I'm sorry," was all he said, looking away into the abyss.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, because I knew he must've tried his best and I respected him for that.
Was he slowly becoming one of the few people I trusted?
As we got in our car, after helping Bree with her luggage, Damien said, "The flight is in an hour. We gotta hurry."
He steered the car speedily down the half-empty streets of Pittsfield, to reach our hotel.
We were hushed, probably brooding about our near death experience. Well, maybe not me.
If Jo wanted, he could've killed all my friends and took me home forcefully but he didn't.
And I didn't know if betraying him was the right thing to do.
I was about to run away from Pittsfield and possibly keep running so he would never catch up with me, even after he gave me a chance.
Breanna was seated beside me on the backseat, constantly fidgeting with her hair as she looked out of the window.
One of her hands was resting on the seat between us, her nails scraping the fabric of the seat.
Her small figure seemed so fragile, so vulnerable. I wanted to protect her.
I reached over, taking her hand in mine — the most daring act I had tried to do.
She jumped a little but calmed down when she noticed our joined hands. She proceeded to intertwine our fingers until the intensity of the contact of her soft skin with mine, shot tingly shivers up my arm.
She gave me a small smile, that conveyed hope and that's when I was able to decide — even though she'd be in danger if I don't go home with Jo, I'd rather keep running for the rest of my life, with her.
A sharp ring of my phone shook me from my trance and I was forced to pull my hand away to attend it.
It was my fucking brother!
Why does he always have to ruin everything for me?
I wouldn't have picked it up, but he had been a pain in the neck for a whole month. I'd answer him one last time and politely ask him to fuck off.
He probably had more important things to do, like partnering with other businessmen and sleeping with their daughters.
I placed the phone on my ear, waiting for him to speak first.
"Hello brother. How have you been?" A deep voice resounded from the other end; a voice that would even scare the biggest hooligans, but not me.
I would tell him but I knew better. I knew he didn't care about my well being. He was just calling me to ask how the masquerade party went, only because I was representing him.
"Why did you call me, Caden?" I asked, minding the intense glare Bree had on me, "I did your work, now leave me alone."
He laughed, sounding like a villain in a movie where he always wins. "Now, now, don't fret. I have called to speak with you about how splendidly you handled the meeting with Mr. Bancroft. He was quite impressed."
If Breanna had heard my brother talking so openly about the father of the man who was after her, she would lose her calm.
I wanted the call to end soon so I could get back to holding hands with her. "Well, I'm not gonna say it was my pleasure because it really wasn't."
He stopped laughing at this point. This time when he spoke, his tone held an uneasy seriousness. "Carlton. Stop being like this. I'm only trying to-"
"-act as if you give a damn about me so you can use me as bait to impress people, for your own good?" When I said that, everyone lost it. Damien was laughing; Phil actually turned in his seat to stare at me with concern while Breanna probably thought it was best to look away.
It really wasn't funny.
"I'm acting as if I give a damn because I do, I really do."
"Bullshit." I shrugged him off. "How's Mom doing?"
"Not very good." His voice became calmer as if he accepted just how much of an asshole he really was. "She's worried about you, brother. She fears for your safety."
Why did I ask that question? If I had Phil, I had nothing to worry about. "What safety?"
"We both know of your insensitive ability to get yourself involved in dangerous situations. She fears that you might reconsider decisions and leave her, just like Father did."
Okay, I get it! So the mother and son were secretly backbiting about my selfish tendencies?! "I'm not my Father, Caden. Also, she left him."
"Whatever that means. I don't think it's something we should be arguing about. But in all honesty, little brother, I do care about you and I'm only trying to help you."
I didn't think the conversation would end up becoming this when he finally revealed his motives.
"I want you to work with me," he said, and I could almost see him smiling on the other side, "Come back to Venice. I shall set up a meeting for you with my CTO. He will explain what is expected of you."
I fisted my hands tightly on my knees, my muscles tightening in response. If only I could strangle him right now.
I was so mad at him for daring to ask me that. All that came out of my mouth was, "Caden, I'm on a vacation."
"For how long? You've been vacationing for six months in ten different cities. It's time to hustle now!"
Shut the fuck up and stop rubbing your big-brother wannabe bullshit on my face.
After ghosting me for years, he wanted me to work for him so he could control me!
He can shove that job offer up his rich ass.
"I'm trying to pursue something that you will never understand," I said, as stern as I could be, "I'm busy. Goodbye."
And I ended the call, glowering at my phone with unimaginable disgust.
I was done. I was done with fake people. Why couldn't everyone be less diplomatic and more straightforward?
"You okay?"
I turned towards Bree, my phone still caged wilfully between my fingers. "Yes, of course."
She smiled and it felt like all I ever needed was her; just her, and everything would be okay.
She made me happy for an unknown reason that I would probably never understand.
But it was calming to me.
Her gentle eyes and her melodious voice made me forget my problems. Her smile was so contagious that nothing in the world mattered anymore.
I offered her my hand and she took it, rubbing her thumb on my skin and that alone killed half of my worries.
I loved her.
And I hated losing someone that I loved.
Therefore, I hated it more when something causes me to lose someone that I loved.
And that "something" was Raymond.
Because when we got back to the hotel, Raymond and Ace were standing near the hotel gates.
When our glances met, a wide smile spread on Ace's face while a satisfying smirk formed on Raymond's.
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