Mafia King's Contract Breeder
Chapter 25 All Your Fault

Chapter 25: 25 All Your Fault

Lara POV

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

A cold hand lifted my chin.

"Ever since you learned my name, you look at me with accusation in your eyes, as though I have committed some terrible crime."

"You have." I pointed out sharply.

"I have," Emmanuel agreed easily. "A great many. But what is it to you?"

What is it to me?

Ha!

I could admit it, I had been a coward in front of him. Instead of admitting my hatred, I painted a smile on my face.

But now that I knew my family had found their way to safety, fear could no longer keep me silent.

My pent up frustration finally came bursting out of me.

I threw his hand away from my face.

"You ruined my life! You destroyed my family! Before my dad got involved with your lot, we were poor, but we were happy. My dad went to prison because he worked for you, then my mom got addicted to gambling in your stupid gambling dens. And then—" my voice hitched. "—everything bad that ever happened in my life is because of you! I hate you!"

My chest heaved. Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.

This was it.

Emmanuel Sagres would surely kill me for shouting a whole tirade at him about how much I loathed him.

But I didn’t feel afraid any more — something about it felt so very satisfying. Cathartic, even.

It would be more satisfying if this robot of a man actually gave me a reaction.

His expression didn’t even change.

"Is that it?" he said, tilting his head in that eerie way of his.

"I am to blame...for everything bad that ever happened in your life..." he repeated thoughtfully. "Why, you flatter me, Lara."

"Excuse me?"

Emmanuel turned, pacing through the living area until he stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at the city below.

I stood my ground, where I was.

"Did I force your father to work for me?"

"I don’t know!"

I had been too young to know the details during those years dad was a drug dealer. I only knew how he came back late, drank, and picked fights with mom while Chloe and I hid in the wardrobe.

Emmanuel shook his head. The city light from beyond the glass windows moved across his handsome face in colorful shapes.

"I assure you, I did not. Plenty of men in East Windlem want to work for me. He could have kept his hands clean, but he made his choice."

"That’s not—"

I started to protest, but I faltered. It just didn’t sound right. But I did not quite know how to argue with Emmanuel that he was wrong.

"Did I force your mother to gamble?"

"No," I admitted through gritted teeth. "But I know the tricks they use at the casinos to reel people in."

"Tricks, you say. Tricks that one only fall for because of greed."

I bit my lip.

That wasn’t fair.

"And you," Emmanuel asked. "Did I force you to sign that contract?"

"Yes!" I snapped.

"Did I?"

"You didn’t tell me who you were!"

"And you knew that risk when you signed it," he replied evenly.

I spluttered. I was so sick of his slippery arguments.

"You’re just twisting things so you don’t have to feel guilty about the fucked up things you do."

"Oh, I don’t feel guilt," Emmanuel said. "I don’t feel — anything."

He turned to face me again.

"Call me the Devil, but the Devil always gives a choice. People are so predictable. They follow their desires, and then blame me for the consequences."

"That’s not true," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

I wished I was wearing more than sheer lingerie, goosebumps raising over my arms. Then I remembered that I decided to wear this outfit, because I thought that it would help me seduce Emmanuel and then ask him for my phone — it made me even angrier.

Emmanuel picked up his jacket, draped across the back of an armchair.

He came back towards me and draped it around my shoulders.

Warmth and the faint scent of cedar and citrus enveloped me, the garment large enough to wrap me up to the top of my thighs.

I hated it.

I tried to push it away, but Emmanuel was stronger. He stood behind me, holding the jacket closed around my chest.

"I thought you were greedy like your mother," Emmanuel said, his voice quiet against my ear, every word precisely cruel.

He thought what?! My cheeks heated in frustration. I tried again to pull myself out of his grip, but he didn’t move an inch.

He went right on whispering in my ear.

"Now I can see that I was wrong. Your sin is a different one. A much worse one."

"What’s that?"

"You’re so desperate for validation that you let that family of yours suck you dry."

I gasped in outrage.

How dare he say that?

"That’s not a sin!" I said, my voice lifting. "And I’m not desperate for validation. That’s called love, and it’s something you wouldn’t understand."

Emmanuel scoffed as though he had never heard anything so stupid.

"You are the one who is blind. You see what you want to see, hear what you want to hear, because you are so desperate not to be wrong about your so-called family. You would rather blame me than see them for what they really are."

He spun me around to face him again.

"What did you do with the money I paid you? Shall I guess?"

"What does that have to do with it?" I retorted. "Do you want it back? And I suppose you’ll have a reason why that makes sense too?"

"Tell me."

"I gave it to my sister," I said. "Every cent of it."

I wasn’t ashamed of it. It was the right thing to do.

Emmanuel’s eyes darkened dangerously. That information clearly didn’t please him.

"And you don’t see the truth in what I am telling you?"

"She needs the money. And I love her, and I want to help her. What’s wrong with that?"

Emmanuel let out a low laugh.

"You’re out of your mind, little fox."

I blinked for a moment at the random nickname. But I pressed on.

"You just don’t understand normal human emotions. You’re so deep in your fucked up, mafia world that you don’t know what a real family does for one another."

His hands tightened around my arms, enough to make me wince in pain.

For the first time —

Emmanuel Sagres looked truly furious.