DIESEL POV
“Wife,” I said. Flat.
“Yeah,” Donald said, while a long exhale came through the speaker—cigarette smoke being released slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. I could picture him leaning back in a leather chair.
“What the hell are you saying?” I growled.
He let out a soft laughter. “Exactly what you heard. Daisy is mine. She always has been. Always."
“You’re delusional.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just a patient man,” he said with another drag of smoke. The sound of it crackled through the line. “Do you want a story time, Diesel? Now listen. You know her father—that worthless coward—used her as collateral when she was only seventeen. Ran away and left her to pay for everything alone. And honestly? That worked out even better for me.”
“What do you mean? You already go
