Page 72 of Sexting the Silverfox Daddy

I closed my eyes, letting the tears flow.

Gennady

Watching Cassie disappear through the door felt like my soul was being ripped out and dragged along with her.

Go after her!

A voice in my head screamed, urging me to run, to hold her, to beg on my knees, even if she cursed me, hit me, hated me forever. I had to try.

But I didn't move.

Chasing her would only hurt her more.

The cold distance between us these past days, the sharp, wounded look in her eyes—it was nothing compared to the blood of her father, a stain my family left that tainted every moment we'd shared. Every time she looked at me, she'd see her father's killer.

How could I put her through that?

"Smart move," Ginnie's voice cut through, smug and triumphant. "Looks like the cold-blooded mob boss finally figured out his priorities." She leaned into the last words, gloating.

I clenched my fists, knuckles popping, nails biting into my palms until blood seeped out. The physical pain was nothing compared to the gaping, raw hole in my chest.

"Good," I said, turning to her, barely holding back the urge to strangle her. "You got what you wanted. Now," I pointed to the door, each word sharp as ice, "I've got bigger shit to deal with. Get out."

Ginnie's smile widened, unfazed. "Of course, darling," she purred, drawing out the words with smug delight. "But don't forget, we've got plenty of 'sweet' details to sort out. Weddingdate, venue, guest list… I want it big, Gennady. The kind that makes Chicago stop and stare."

"Get out of my sight," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly low, my eyes burning with unfiltered murder. "Now. Right fucking now."

Her smile faltered, just a fraction, catching the raw killing intent in my gaze. But she kept up her victorious act. "Fine, looks like you need some… alone time to process."

She grabbed her purse and sauntered to the door, pausing to toss one last venomous jab. "But don't forget, Gennady—time's ticking. Your little princess can't wait forever."

The door clicked shut, and the room fell into a suffocating silence.

I couldn't hold it together anymore. My fist slammed into the wall, blood smearing from my knuckles, but the pain was nothing. Cassie was gone.

And I couldn't even chase her, couldn't beg her to stay, because she was right—I was her enemy, the son of her father's killer.

I collapsed onto the couch, hands covering my face. Tears burned my eyes, but I forced them back. I didn't deserve to cry. My family's blood was tainted with murder, and my existence was a living reminder of her loss.