His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 59: Little Cunts

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Chapter 59 - Little Cunts

Chapter 59- Ungrateful Cunts

Declan's POV

I couldn't believe it.

Logan just walked past me.

What insolence.

He should consider himself lucky—no, blessed—that his father is someone close to me. If not, he would've kissed his life goodbye the moment he pulled that stunt.

Human life means nothing to me.

I don't care who gives it. All I know is that I will take it if they fail to respect themselves and dare to be unfortunate in my presence.

Logan was supposed to be a scapegoat for this. But no—his father's influence saved him.

He should go thank him.

If not for that, I would've used him and discarded him like I always do. They don't get to leave on their own terms. They don't get to decide when they're done.

I decide that.

So Logan should go thank his stars that I didn't take this matter up.

He should appreciate his father for that.

I run a frustrated hand through my hair.

Now that my only spy has betrayed me...

How the hell am I supposed to keep an eye on Tyler?

And now Tyler is pissed.

He doesn't even realize I'm doing this for him.

I want to mold him into the perfect son, but he keeps refusing to dance to the beat I set for him. Instead, he gets angry when I rightfully threaten to deal with him if he dares to run away.

I have every right to say that to him.

I am his god.

He should let that sink into his thick skull before he does something he'll regret.

He should be grateful that I don't want to hurt him—because he's my only son for now.

If he wasn't, he would've already learned the consequences of shouting at me and walking out like a damn fool.

I know that bitch Beatrice is the reason he's acting like this.

She poisoned his mind against me.

I thought I warned her not to spill anything.

Not even a word.

So how the fuck did Tyler find out his mother was kidnapped?

If that little bastard had just stayed in his room like I told him, he wouldn't have overheard the guards talking about the "kidnapped bitch Beatrice."

He just couldn't keep his nosy ass to himself.

Now everything is ruined.

Everything.

And all because of Tyler... and that good-for-nothing Logan, who couldn't even play a simple role as a spy.

And this idiot—Logan—actually believed that I was going to help him beg Tyler for forgiveness?

How stupid could he be?

Did he really think I, Declan, was going to beg my own son for something?

What a fool.

And now he refuses to continue working for me when he was enjoying the job.

No, this isn't just about Logan quitting.

I can feel something.

Something is wrong.

Tyler and his mother... they're planning to run.

I have no proof yet, but my gut tells me.

And I never ignore my instincts.

I won't let that happen.

Beatrice can run away for all I care. She can disappear and never come back, and I won't lose a wink of sleep over it.

But Tyler?

No.

Tyler is mine.

My investment.

My livestock.

My clay—and I will shape him into exactly what I want.

The only thing holding me back right now is Beatrice.

I made a deal once—to protect her.

But that deal won't last forever.

I just have to wait a few months.

When we're back to living together, I'll make sure she disappears for good.

Then Tyler will have no one but me.

It's a perfect plan.

I honestly can't wait.

I smirk at the thought, still deep in my planning, when the bathroom door opens.

Logan steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist.

This child.

I could strangle him right now, watch the life drain from his eyes.

But I won't.

Because if I did, that bastard son of mine wouldn't hesitate to turn against me.

Tyler would love to pin it on me.

If Logan was anyone else—someone without ties to power—he'd be dead by now.

Logan looks at me, his face twisted in disgust.

The audacity.

Who gave these kids the right to be so disrespectful?

Tyler and Logan are exactly the same.

Rude.

Defiant.

Ungrateful.

They're competing to see who can piss me off more.

"What are you still doing here? Or wasn't I clear enough for you?" Logan sneers.

I narrow my eyes. "You're acting like a punk."

His lips curl into a smirk. "And that still won't change the fact that I'm not working for you anymore."

That flares my temper.

"People all over the world would kill for a chance to work for me. They'd beg to be in your position. And here you are, throwing it away like a fool."

Logan shrugs. "Good for them. Since you have people begging to be your slaves, why don't you go hire them instead of wasting your time on me?"

He scoffs. "Or do people not say no to you?"

I glare at him.

He just doesn't get it.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to get used to it. Because I'm never working for you again." He wipes the water from his face and heads for the wardrobe.

The way he's moving... he's leaving today.

My jaw tightens.

I hate loose ends.

A slow smirk stretches across my face as an idea forms.

A perfect little blackmail.

"Imagine," I say, my voice casual, "if your father found out that his handsome only son—who he thinks loves women—has been lying to him all along."

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Logan freezes.

Bingo.

I step closer, lowering my voice. "Imagine if he discovered that you never loved women. That it was all a cover-up to hide who you really are."

I chuckle. "That you love men. That you even want to marry one."

Logan's expression shifts.

Ah. There it is.

The moment of fear.

I smirk. "Surprised, aren't you?"

I tilt my head. "There's nothing I don't know."

Logan clenches his jaw but quickly masks it with a scoff. "Is this your idea of blackmail? Running to my dad with baseless lies?"

I shrug. "Boy, I'll do anything to have my way."

I lean in. "So, it's simple. Either you agree to be my spy again... or I tell Daddy Dearest everything."

Logan bursts into laughter.

Mocking.

Disrespectful.

And then he says, "And you think he's going to believe your bullshit? Without proof?"

He shakes his head with a smirk. "With all due respect, Mr. Declan—" his voice drips with sarcasm "—I think you can do better."

Then, without another word, he walks past me.

Just like Tyler.

Like I'm nothing.

"Little cunt," I hiss under my breath, seething as the door shuts behind him.