A Beautiful Lie (Playing with Fire #1)(99)

No, he had a real father. The kind of man you could look up to. The kind of man a son could be proud to share a bloodline with. Milo had been understandably upset when he found out his father allowed for him to be abused all those years by a man that hated the very sight of him, but he understood it now. He saw the big picture and realized that his suffering and years of torment would all be rewarded.

Milo had spent most of his life being envious of the people around him, people like Garrett McCarthy who had the world handed to him on a silver platter, who had parents that fawned over him and gave him everything his heart desired. Day in and day out he watched his so-called friend succeed and have the perfect life without even trying. Soon the envy Milo felt burned through him like a raging inferno, turning his heart and soul to ashes and his jealousy into the kind of deep-seeded hatred that he’d never be able to break free from.

It was his turn now, his turn to get everything he wanted.

Standing next to a palm tree in the Dominican Republic, holding his unconscious former fiancé and waiting to hear from his men that Garrett’s team had been eliminated so he could leave, Milo felt vindicated. He’d always known Garrett had a thing for Parker. He knew it that first day in the coffee shop. But he had his orders, and he would not fail. It felt good to take something from that smug bastard for once, to finally have something that Garrett desired more than anything. He never loved Parker. She was just a means to an end. But she was his. And he would be damned if he let Garrett have her.

Milo hugged Parker’s limp body tightly to his chest and put a few well-placed kisses on her cheek and the side of her neck, making sure she still had a pulse and keeping up the ruse at the same time. He knew Garrett’s people would be watching him. Subduing Parker with a syringe full of Ketamine was risky but necessary. Milo made sure he’d backed her under the cover of a few palm trees before palming the needle in his pocket and then throwing his arm in a flash up to push it in. He thought she’d go with him easily.

He thought she’d be happy to see him no matter what his father had told him the last few weeks.



“Your American woman is quite the hellcat in bed, my son. Did you enjoy years of pleasure between her thighs or did she save the best for Mr. McCarthy?”

Milo had been listening to his father regale him with every single sordid detail of what Parker and Garrett had done in the bedroom and pool during their stay. His hands were clenched into fists, and he felt the edges of his vision blur with rage.

“Tell me, did the lovely Parker ever shout your name in ecstasy like she did Garrett’s?”

His father laughed, pleased with the torment he was inflicting on his son. Milo knew this was a test. His father was just baiting him, making sure he was strong enough, dedicated enough. He knew he could show no weakness, no matter what the man said or did.

Milo’s nostrils flared as he watched his father signal to one of his guards seated at the desk in the security office where they stood, surrounded by more than a dozen monitors that showcased every inch of the palace grounds.

The guard pressed a few buttons on the console in front of him and soon the room was flooded with the sounds of passion.



“Touch me.”



“Oh God, yes!”



“Let go, baby.”



“Oh God…Garrett…f*ck!”



“Come for me, Garrett. I need to feel you.”



“Ungh, more, more…”



“Garrett…Garrett…Garrett…”



“ENOUGH!” Milo bellowed.

Milo’s father placed his hand on the guard’s shoulder and the man immediately cut off the tape.

“Rodriguez, you are dismissed.”

At his father’s command, the guard quickly stood and exited the small room.

Milo knew he’d made a mistake, but there was no taking it back now. Listening to his father tell him how much Parker and Garrett enjoyed one another made his blood boil, but hearing the sounds of their moans, the creak of the bed, the splash of the water as their bodies moved against one another made him feel murderous.

Before the door clicked shut behind the guard, his father had crossed the room to him. He felt the man’s fist connect with his mouth before he even saw it coming. When Milo’s hand flew up to cover his busted lip, his father took the opportunity to throw another punch to his ribs.

Milo doubled over when he heard a distinctive crunch, knowing one of his ribs had cracked. He kept one hand pressed against the cut on his lip from where his father’s ring connected and the other hand held tightly to his rib that screamed out in pain.

“No son of mine will allow a woman to bring him to his knees. You show too much weakness for a whore and do nothing but snivel and whine about the unfairness of your life and how Garrett McCarthy received everything that should have been yours.”

Milo listened to his father berate him as he spit blood out of his mouth and slowly stood up to face him. He should have known better. He should have been stronger and more in control. He never deserved the beatings the man who raised him had given him each day, but this was warranted. Milo wanted to make his father proud and show him he was worthy to stand by his side. He stood tall in front of his father, ignoring the throbbing pain that cut into his side and the blood that dripped down from his lip.