Chapter 3 Father
The soft warmth of the fireplace hugged my tensed body, slouched against the Italian cream leather couch. Blindly stroking the glass rim with my fingertip as the obnoxious thudding of heels echoed behind my closed eyelids.
“Damon!” My father’s steely tone sliced through the relaxing darkness, cracking open my left eyelid to stare into those piercing crimson orbs that could strike the unholy fear into anyone, but not myself or my brother, Darian.
“What father?” Clipping the word sharply, leaning up from my slouched comfort with a narrowed gaze over my shoulder, his black silk tailored suit straining against his muscular frame hidden beneath those luxurious threads.
His smooth black silky locks snapped tightly with his head as those crimson orbs flared with an unspoken hatred for my lack of respect towards the man we called Father.
“Watch that tone young man. This is a serious problem.” Waving off his stony words with a half-scoffing laugh. Bringing the chilled glass to my lips with the soothing aroma of charred-barrel Brandy, before the glistening amber liquid splashed out over the natural acacia flooring with a crashing clank of glass and splattering liquid.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, FATHER?” Jumping to my feet with a hissing growl as our eyes locked in a heated stare-off, our chests heaving in unspoken tension, clenching my fists tightly to my thighs. My 6’4” frame of lethal muscle hovering in anticipation. His chiseled features schooled in a silent appearance of calm but the slight flare of his nostrils signaled his growing rage as his muscular frame stepped forward with a slight tilt of his head.
“Honey, I’m home.” My brother’s timbered voice sang lively through the Penthouse as his tight footfalls echoed against the hardwood flooring. Ignoring his approaching aura as my father’s crimson orbs burned invisible holes through my skull.
“Not again, Damon.” His voice chuckled lightly in my head as his tight footfalls grew closer.
“Darlin’, don’t you know death stares cause early aging?” Smirking at his mocked high-pitched southern voice, pinching my cheek with a little more pressure to silently convey his annoyance that I was, yet again, pushing my boundaries with our up-tight father without him.
“Darian, explain to your brother how serious this situation really is and that slouching with a Brandy is not the answer.” Grinding my teeth as Darian perked a humorous brow at our father’s curt tone.
“Yeah Darian, do explain.” Rolling his name mockingly in our link.
“Now father, what kind of respectful sons would we be if we didn’t indulge ourselves in a relaxing drink before diving headfirst into a cluster fuck that you and your Government buddies decided to create over twenty years ago?” Flashing a smug grin at his devilish smile as his strong palm clapped tightly to my shoulder, turning on his heel to pour himself the same Brandy that was rudely slapped from my hand earlier.
“How was I supposed to know the fucking Government would be flipped on its head and taken over by the Federation? That whole project was created to avoid exactly what happened, and now we’re being hunted like cattle. Maddox met it first-hand last night.” Our father looked spooked as his muscular hands slid through his silky locks, accepting the fresh Brandy from my brother as we took our seats on the couch and matching chair.
“What do we know about Maddox’s untimely demise?” Taking a refreshing sip of the woodsy brandy, the gentle burn awakening a silent determination. Leaning back into the plush cushions crossing a lazy leg over my knee, smirking as our father chugged his Brandy with a slight tremor to his hand.
“According to his bodyguards, Maddox hired an escort from one of our approved vendors. She arrived promptly, searched, and allowed entrance to his penthouse suite at the East Hotel. Joey and Tank both agreed that nothing suspicious was heard. If anything, they wanted in on the action with the hot blonde Dominatrix that gave Maddox a run for his money.” Sharing a curious glance at my brother as our father refilled his drink, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he slid back into the chair visibly relaxing explaining the information he had obtained since last night and the assassination of our Miami connection.
“How did she appear upon exiting the suite?” Darian leaned his chin onto his perched fist, tucked gracefully into the corner of the couch with his drink hovering from his quirked lips.
“Fine. She was a little winded, but gracefully, as they weirdly put it. This is what we have so far from the surveillance footage of the hotel.” Leaning forward to retrieve the file tossed onto the steel and glass coffee table, stretching back.
