God of Ruin (Legacy of Gods #4) by Rina Kent

“I don’t do wishes, Mr. Hunter. I make things happen.”

I narrow my eyes on him and he stares me dead in the face, unblinking, openly challenging me in my own fucking house.

“Dad,” my daughter signs, dread written all over her soft face. “Please.”

“It’s all right, Mia,” Landon says. “I was fully prepared for this level of hostility and would’ve been disappointed if there was anything less, to be honest. But how about we get past this stage? Since you’re acquainted with Grandpa, I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“And if we can’t?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I’ll keep trying until we do.”

“Even if it takes years?”

“Or decades. I can be both persistent and persuasive.”

“Neither of those traits works on me.”

“I’ll find something that will.”

“Highly doubtful.”

Mia stands up, remains silent for an awkward pause, then signs, “I’m going to see if Mom and Maya need help.”

She shares a look with Landon that only the two of them seem to be able to decipher the meaning of before she reluctantly leaves.

Good. Now would be a good time to abduct the bastard and execute my construction site plan.

“Where were we?” Landon asks. “Right, me trying to win you over. I’m confident we can figure something out. At least you’re not as animalistically violent as your son.”

“Who do you think is his father? And drop the act now that it’s the both of us.”

“Act?” He searches his surroundings as if looking for a third presence before focusing back on me. “What act?”

“The doting boyfriend act. That doesn’t fly with me.”

“I’m not acting, since I am, in fact, attempting to be a doting boyfriend.”

“How is that working out for you?”

“Judging by your murderous expression, I’d guess not so good.”

“You guessed correctly.” I lean forward in my chair. “I know your type, Landon, or rather, I’ve crushed your type countless times before.”

“My type?”

“Suave, dishonest predators who only care about their narcissistic selves.”

“I don’t deny the characteristics. In fact, I take pride in them since they’ll allow me to identify similar monsters and protect your daughter from their claws. I’m open to earning your trust in any way you deem necessary as long as it doesn’t include breaking up with Mia. Nikolai and his edgy cousin Killian tried, but I assure you they didn’t and won’t succeed. I promise I’m not a threat. At least, not to Mia and the people she loves.”

“Your promise holds little to no importance for me.”

“How about information, then?”

I narrow my eyes. “What type of information?”

“Further details about what happened to Mia eleven years ago.”

I straighten and grow taller in my chair. “How the bloody hell do you know about that?”

“Mia told me herself because, as I mentioned earlier and you refused to believe, I do happen to be a doting boyfriend and worked hard to earn her trust. Which included suppressing my own nature, but I’m sure you’re not interested in those details.”

“What the fuck do you know about what happened?”

“Enough to formulate a dangerous theory.”

One moment I’m sitting there, the next, I grab him by the collar of his shirt and lift him up. “What the fuck do you know?”

“Whoa. Here I was complimenting your coolheadedness compared to Nikolai, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Am I right?”

“I know a hundred and one ways to kill people, so unless you’re ready to experience the most brutal one, I suggest you talk.”

He grabs onto my arm, but he doesn’t push me away. “I will if we have mutual trust. I must say, your reaction doesn’t encourage any future collaborations.”

The sound of Maya’s talking reaches me and I release the little fucker. He falls against the sofa and readjusts his collar as if nothing happened.

By the time my wife and the girls join us, I’m already in my seat and thinking of a thousand ways to kill the bastard in his sleep. Forget about the construction site; that’s too mild for him.

But first, I need to figure out what exactly he knows and why the hell Mia trusts the sleazy fucker enough to tell him about that part of her past.

“What were you guys talking about?” Rai asks while placing the tray of tea and biscuits in front of him.

“Mr. Hunter was just telling me you make great tea and I must admit, I’m curious to find out.”

I narrow my eyes on him, but he continues to smile at my wife, who tells him that’s a major exaggeration on my part.

We sit down for tea again, but despite my deep-rooted Britishness, that’s not my focus at all. I keep watching for telltales to expose the twat and reveal his true face.

That mission proves to be increasingly hard when he keeps saying all the right words and gives Rai the perfect answers to all her questions.

He’s as skilled at lying as trained spies, but then again, maybe he isn’t, in fact, lying but rather good at mixing the truth with the right words, depending on the audience.