He Fell For His Executioner
Language: en
Years later, the boy whose bare skin I had once caught a glimpse of beneath his torn shirt became the most feared, scorched-earth billionaire in Manhattan’s elite circles. He has me trapped now, caged in a sprawling estate in the Hudson Valley. His ice-cold fingertips pressed mine against the edge of a blade, his voice a low, dangerous rasp: "Do you remember this knife? It’s time to finish what we started all those years ago." It all began when they forced me to break him—the long-lost bastard son the Blackwood family had finally dragged home from the gutters. They handed me a razor-sharp…