Daxton
I took a long drag of my cigar, blowing a cloud into the dimly lit room before my eyes narrowed on my nephew who slept on the cold floor with his hands tied behind him, groaning and wincing at intervals. I had lied. It didn't take me an hour to join Kian, instead, it took seventy-two hours.
Setting Kian free just because he signed the divorce papers was too easy for him. I wanted him to suffer, burst that bubble of safety that was around him, pierce that ego that made him believe that he was unreachable and untouchable.
I was only teaching my nephew a lesson. The same one his parents failed to incorporate in him. It was just that my own idea of discipline for brats like my nephew wasn't like anyone else’s—mine was brutal.
I glanced at one of the men. “Wake him up!” I leaned
