My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 225

Tyler

I stepped back into the penthouse.

No—not a penthouse. A fucking shithole. Sure, most people would kill to be here, surrounded by functioning luxuries, calling it a dream. But for me? This was nothing. A joke compared to what I had. What that piece of shit, Jacob, stole from me. And there was only one way to take it all back. I had to take everything from him. And in this world, if there was anything Jacob Adriano cared about more than his own life, it was her.

Evelyn Fernandez.

The one thing I could never have. The one fucking desire that had ruined me. I didn't regret what I did—not for a second. One taste of her would've been worth losing everything. But I couldn't have her. And that's why she had to die.

There were two reasons Evelyn had to die.

One—I couldn't have her.

Two—Her death would be Jacob's downfall.

And that was more than fucking enough.

I tossed my knife onto the table and stalked over to the counter, grabbing my bottle of whiskey. I took a long, burning gulp before setting it down with a careless thud.

My sweet Evelyn...

A dark chuckle rumbled in my chest as I dropped into the chair, my gaze drifting toward her picture on the wall. My fingers twitched. That same photo I still fucking jerked off to. Still beautiful. Still untouchable.

"You're going to die," I murmured, my lips curving into a slow, twisted smile. My head tilted, admiring the image, the perfect curve of her lips, her eyes, that body. Mine, mine, mine.

"Isn't it poetic?" I exhaled, the thought unraveling something primal inside me. "You're going to die in my hands... a slow, painful death."

Heat pooled in my gut.

The thought of killing her was turning me on. Jail had done something sick to me. Twisted me into something even worse. And I fucking hated it.

Because this wasn't me. Not entirely.

A part of me—small, buried deep—wanted something else. Something better. Something to fix what I'd ruined.

But no.

I couldn't afford to be that person. This was who I was. It was what everyone had told me from the beginning—since childhood. Careless. Entitled. A burden. Trouble. So I played my part.

I had spent my whole life trying to prove them right. And Evelyn? Maybe she was the last validation I had needed before I could finally fix myself.

But I couldn't have her.

So fuck it.

Let me be the ruin they always said I was.

Let me burn everything in my path.

If I was a burden, I'd be a fucking curse too. Drag everyone through the mud—my brothers, my stepmother, my sick fucking father. After this murder? They'd never be able to show their faces again.

And that was worth it.

Yes. Maybe... one life was worth it.

But she was pregnant.

Something in my chest tightened.

I clenched my jaw. Fuck this.

"Fuck this," Grabbing my phone, I dialed a number—the one person who wouldn't dare say no to me. The line rang twice before she picked up. No excitement in her voice. Just hesitation.

"...Hello?"

"Hello, Chloe, darling," I murmured, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Get to my penthouse. Now. It's time for your weekly blowie."

A sharp sigh crackled through the speaker. "Tyler... why don't you just stop?" Her voice was tired, drained.She was exhausted because of me. I'd been using her like a fucking whore—because, for now, she was one. My personal freebie, since I had no cash to burn on anyone else. And honestly? She was cheap for the budget I had.

"Give up already," she pressed, her tone edged with something almost close to pity. "They're together. Evelyn's pregnant. It's over. Move on. Rebuild your business, start fresh—"

My grip on the phone tightened.

"You either come to my penthouse now, or I come to yours and slit your fucking throat."

Silence.

Dead. Heavy.

I could feel her fear through the line. Could practically hear her heartbeat pick up, the way she gulped down panic before finally whispering—

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Then she hung up. I leaned back in my chair, head tilting toward the ceiling, exhaling slow. These lines worked on everyone. The sight of a knife worked even better.

That was something I'd learned in jail—words are your best weapon.

Whether you meant them or not?

Didn't fucking matter.

But this time... this time, I had to mean it.

Because I had a mission.

To ruin my family.

And to destroy Jacob Adriano.

***

Jacob

I punched the passcode into the lock and stepped inside the apartment. Something felt off. I couldn't pinpoint why, but the moment I crossed the threshold, unease curled around my spine. This was her hour. The time of day when Evelyn would be bouncing around the apartment, snacking on everything in sight, moving with the restless energy of a kitten—a cute little kitten. We even had a name for it—her sprinting hour.

But now?

Silence.

I went rigid.

My jaw clenched so hard it ached, my hands tightening around her trembling form as I struggled to process what the fuck I'd just heard.

This wasn't just a threat.

This was psychotic.

This wasn't Tyler.

"Baby... are you sure it was him?" My voice came out quieter than intended, careful, though my mind was already burning with a storm of rage.

Her sobs deepened. "Yes, Jacob," she gasped between ragged breaths. "It was him. It's recorded on the camera. It was him."

Fuck.

God knew what prison had done to that bastard.

But I didn't give a shit.

I would not let him near my family.

Not ever.

I pulled her closer, tightening my arms around her fragile frame, her face buried into my neck, her body still shaking violently.

"I promise you, Evelyn," my voice was steel, firm and unwavering. "I won't let him harm you. Or our Sienna."

Her fingers dug into my back as another sob wracked through her, but I kept going, my voice softer now, "You're safe. I'll get a restraining order. We'll handle this. You believe me, right?"

She nodded against my chest, but her sobs didn't stop.

And I knew they wouldn't. Not yet.

She had to let it out. Had to break before she could start putting herself back together. And even though it fucking killed me to hear her cry like this—I let her.

I held her tighter, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple, whispering against her damp skin, "I won't let him come near you or our baby. I swear it, Evelyn. I'm right here."

But deep inside, I knew it.

A restraining order alone wouldn't be enough.

No.

This wasn't something the law could fix.

Tyler wanted to play a game?

Fine.

I'd fucking end it.