Twisted Love (Twisted #1)(76)

“I did well. You leeched off me like the parasite you are.”

Ivan clucked in disappointment. “Is that any way to speak to the man who kept you from being put into the horrid foster system? Really, you should be more grateful.”

He really was deranged. “No wonder my mom wanted nothing to do with you,” I said. “She must’ve smelled the crazy from a mile away.”

Ivan’s fake smile melted, and his face twitched with anger. “Your mother was a stupid whore,” he spat. “I loved her, but she turned me down—me, the one who’d been there for her long before she met your father—for na?ve, soft-hearted Anton. I waited and waited for her to come to her senses, but she never did.” He snorted. “When she told Anton about my letters, he stopped speaking to me. Wasn’t man enough to confront me face to face, but he ran his mouth to our mutual friends, all of whom cut me off too.” His eyes shone with hatred. “No one crosses me like that. He took what I loved from me, so I took what he loved from him.”

“Not what. Who,” I said through gritted teeth. “My mother was not an object.”

Ivan cackled. “Oh, Alex, love did make you soft after all.”

I clenched my jaw. “I’m not in love.”

“That’s not what a little birdie told me.” A cough rattled in his lungs. “I had some interesting conversations with a pretty little blonde by the name of Madeline. She had a lot to say about how you reacted when she pushed poor Ava into a pool.”

Fury sliced through me. Madeline. I didn’t know how she and my uncle met, but Ivan must’ve been tracking me longer than I thought.

Once again, I cursed myself for letting my guard slip.

By this time next month, Hauss Industries would be toast. I’d make sure of it. I’d already gathered the kindling after the pool incident; I just needed to set it on fire.

“All you have to do is give me the money and position, sign a contract saying you’ll never come after me or hold corporate office again, and I’ll let Ava and her little friend go,” Ivan said. “It’s a simple trade.”

I wondered if he knew Bridget was the Princess of Eldorra. If he did, he was an idiot for dragging her into this. If he didn’t, he was an idiot for not doing his research.

And if he thought I’d believe he would let any of us go after he all but admitted to murder in front of us, he must think I was an idiot.

I weighed my options. Ivan wouldn’t do anything to me, Ava, or Bridget until I’d wired the money and given him back his position, but that wouldn’t take long. He knew I had the board under my thumb. I could make him CEO again with one call.

“To be clear, that wasn’t a request,” Ivan said.

I smiled, the gears in my brain clicking into place. “Sure. I can agree to your request—” My uncle smirked. “—or I can save your life. You choose.”

The smirk disappeared. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I stepped toward him. Camo raised his gun in warning, but Ivan waved him off, his rheumy eyes narrowing as I stared pointedly at his skin, his hair, and the way his hand shook with barely concealed pain.

Realization dawned. “How?” he growled.

My smile slashed across my face. “You were quite thirsty after your drive to my house a few weeks ago.”

“The tea.” Ivan’s face pinched. “I checked after the symptoms started showing. The doctors said—”

“That you had Guillain-Barre disease?” I sighed. “It is unfortunate that the symptoms are so similar. But no, I’m afraid it’s not Guillain-Barre.”

“What did you do, you little shit?”

A flash of movement behind Camo—visible only from where I stood—caught my eye. I showed no reaction even as my mental calculations adjusted to account for the new development.

“You can buy anything on the black market these days,” I said, playing idly with the ugly monkey paperweight on the desk. “Including deadly poisons. The one currently destroying your system? Quite similar to thallium. It’s odorless, tasteless, colorless. Hard to identify because it’s so rare, and its symptoms often point to a range of other illnesses. But unlike thallium, it has no widely known antidote. Luckily for you, Uncle, there is a secret antidote—and I have a vial stashed away.”

My uncle trembled with rage. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

I shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

Three things happened at once. Ava threw herself at a distracted Camo and knocked the gun out of his hand, Bridget’s bodyguard tackled Camo from behind and caught him in a chokehold, and I whipped out the gun hidden in the shoulder holster beneath my coat and pointed it at my uncle. I used my other hand to send a quick, one-number message on my phone without taking my eyes off Ivan.

“Stop!” he shouted.

Everyone froze until we resembled a grotesque comedic tableau—Rhys with one arm around Camo’s neck and the other pressing a gun to his temple; Ava and Bridget wriggling out of their restraints, me ready to shoot my uncle point-blank in the chest.

“Alex.” Ivan let out a nervous chuckle. “My dear nephew, is this necessary? We are, after all, family.”

“No, we’re not. You murdered my family.” I cocked my gun, and he paled. “Ava, Bridget, leave the room.”