Chapter 73

Carlo

“You told him, didn’t you?”

I slam the office door shut behind me, my knuckles already clenched so tight my nails are cutting into my palm. William looks up from his desk, calmly flipping a page in whatever bullshit file he’s pretending to care about. I don’t even wait for him to answer.

My fist lands hard across his face.

He stumbles back in the chair, almost falling off. A pen clatters to the ground. There’s a beat of stunned silence, then he slowly lifts his head, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks at the blood like it’s something fascinating. Like it’s not the fucking least he deserves.

“So, that’s how we’re doing this now?” he mutters, finally meeting my eyes. His smirk is irritating. Too calm. Too smug. “Gonna beat me into confessing something I didn’t even do?”

“Cut the crap,” I snap. “Don’t act like I don’t fucking know.”

He laughs under his breath. That stupid, low laugh that makes my skin crawl. Like he’s the smartest man in the room. Like I’m the fool here.

“I warned you,” I growl, walking closer again. “I warned you to keep your damn mouth shut. You knew he’d lose his shit. And you still—”

“He’s our father, Carlo,” William says, standing up now, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. “Did you really think he wouldn’t find out eventually? This whole secret boyfriend fantasy you’ve been living… it’s not sustainable.”

I push him again, harder this time, right against the edge of the desk. He grunts, but doesn’t fight back. Doesn’t have to. He knows how to get under my skin without lifting a damn finger.

“You think I give a shit what’s sustainable? You think I don’t know what that bastard’s capable of?” I hiss. “I told you. I fucking told you what he said. He’ll kill Blaze. He said it with his own damn mouth, Asshole. You get that? Kill him.”

“And you think it was me who told him?” William raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “Carlo, you’re not exactly discreet. You’ve got enemies crawling out the woodwork. People watching you. It could’ve been anyone. Maybe your own damn driver. Or maybe…”

“Don’t you fucking make me look like a fool, I know what a jerk you can be”

“Then stop punching the wrong people,” he shoots back.

Something in me snaps. I don’t care if he’s my brother. I swing again, this time going for the gut. He gasps and doubles over, but before I can land another, the office door bursts open.

“Mr. Carlo! Please, stop!”

It’s his secretary, some girl with too much perfume and trembling hands. She rushes between us, pushing against me weakly.

“Get out,” I growl at her.

“I… I can’t, sir. He’s bleeding—”

“I said get the fuck out!”

She freezes, torn, then finally backs away. William straightens up slowly, breath shaky, but still clinging to that annoying half-smile. Like he enjoys this.

“I didn’t tell him,” he says again, this time quieter. “But maybe he needed to know. You can’t keep hiding forever. Sooner or later, you were gonna have to choose.”

“Yeah? And who the fuck are you to push me into that corner?”

“Your brother. The one who’s tired of taking the shit you left behind.”

My chest heaves. I stare at him, jaw locked so tight it hurts. The words hang there, unspoken but heavy. He’s not sorry. Not one bit. Maybe he didn’t tell. Maybe he did. But he doesn’t care either way. That much is clear.

I take a step back. Shake my head.

“Stay the fuck out of my life, William. You’ve done enough.”

He says nothing. Just sits back down, fixing his tie like we didn’t just almost break each other’s jaws.

I walk out of the office, fists still trembling. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I don’t check it. Not yet. The hallway feels too quiet. My heart’s pounding like a drum. I can’t breathe properly.

Outside, the air hits me harder than expected. I rest my hand against my car door and lean in for a second, trying to find my balance.

That bastard.

I didn’t even get to say a full sentence before my father slapped the shit out of me earlier. Just walked in and boom—backhand across the face like I was some teenage fuck-up again.

“So you’d rather be a disgrace, messing around with a man? My own son? Is this what I built an empire for?”

My mother had cried. She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me with that expression that still stings when I close my eyes—the one that says she’s disappointed and ashamed but too tired to fight. Then she started begging. Not for me. Not for understanding. But for him to give me back a slice of the company. Said I’ll do the engagement. I’ll be a good son. Said I’d marry that girl just like he wanted.

I hadn’t even opened my mouth yet.

I should’ve fucking screamed. Told them to go to hell. But I just stood there, hand on my face, and stared like a fucking idiot. Because the only thing ringing in my head wasn’t their voices—it was Blaze’s.

Him laughing. Him curled up in my bed, shirtless, talking about dumb shit.

And now he’s in danger.

I climb into the car and slam the door shut. The engine roars to life, but I don’t drive yet. I sit there, gripping the wheel, eyes burning. If my father lays a finger on Blaze—

No.

I won’t let that happen. Even if I have to burn every fucking bridge in this family. Even if I lose every damn thing.

I grab my phone, thumb hovering over Blaze’s number. I want to hear his voice. Just to know he’s okay. But what do I even say?

“Hey, babe, my dad’s a psychotic control freak and might actually kill you, but don’t worry, I punched William in the face, so we’re even now?”

I sigh and press my head back against the seat.

Fucking hell.

This is a mess. And it’s not going away. My father made it clear—marry the girl or lose everything. Not just the company. He’ll wipe Blaze off the face of the fucking planet.

I’d always known he was cruel. But this… this is something else.

I start the car, finally pulling out of the lot. There’s no way I’m going home tonight. Not to that house. Not after what happened.

I’ll go to Blaze’s. At least for a bit.

I just need to be around someone who doesn’t make me feel like I’m made of shame and fucking dirt.

As I drive, my phone buzzes again. This time I check it.

Unknown number.

I don’t answer.

Another buzz.

Another one.

I throw the phone on the seat next to me.

Not tonight.

I’m done being dragged into their bullshit.