Avarice and Charity (Sins of the Virtuous Book 3)

Chapter 4

Avarice stood watching Charity's carriage as it started to slowly move. He was confused by his behaviour. He hadn't intended to let those last words slip out, though he couldn't deny how much he meant them. There was something about her that seemed to hypnotize him, making him forget all his senses and desire things only this woman could satisfy.

Being dragged from his musings by the loud chiming of the town clock bell, he realized he needed to return to Adam and the carriage before he was missed. He turned swiftly on his heels and ran through the crowd of people filling the street market, careful not to knock anyone over. The carriage in sight, he quickened his pace until finally he came to an abrupt stop beside the nervously waiting driver.

"Why the hell have you been gone so long?" Adam asked. "Antonio could have come out at any minute."

"But he didn't," Avarice reminded him.

No sooner did he speak than the door of the house across the road opened, and his father stepped out. Watching as the old man left the house, slamming the door behind him, Avarice became very aware of how close he had come to having his absence noticed.

As the old man stormed across the road and toward the carriage, rolling his sleeves down and buttoning the cuffs, Avarice had to admit he was indeed a very commanding figure. Waiting until he finished straightening his clothing and came to a stop in front of him, Avarice reached for the older man's jacket where it rested on the seat of the carriage and handed it to him.

"Did you get your money?" he asked, trying to hide the disgust he felt as he noticed the smears of blood on the older man's knuckles.

"Does your tone imply displeasure with the way I handled matters?" his father asked, putting his jacket on before stepping into their transport.

Avarice joined him in the carriage. "A man needs to do what he has to in order to succeed," he uttered as if automatic. "Isn't that what you taught me?"

Reaching in his trouser pocket, Antonio pulled out a wad of money to show his son. "You may not like the way I handle my business, but as you can see, it is always effective."

He glanced at the bloodstains on the older man's hands. "And you are certain violence is the only way?"

His father placed the money back in his pocket. "Are you suggesting I should have just walked in there and asked him for the money?" he asked. "Have I taught you nothing? Surely you realize most of the people who come to me for money are already desperate. Should they ever manage to regain any of their fortune, the last thing they're going to want to do is hand it over to me."

Avarice rubbed the wound on the back of his hand. What his father said was right, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"You must understand people lie about not having the money because they think people like us are fools."

Avarice raised a single brow. "Of all the things that are said about you, foolishness isn't one of them."

"You think I care what the people of this town think of me?"

Avarice shook his head. "I know you don't."

His father's gaze narrowed. "But you do?"

He turned away from the old man. "I care that my father is not known for his keen business mind, but rather his brutality and greed. I care because, whether you realize it or not, your behaviour reflects on me and affects those willing to become involved in my life."

"You're blaming me for you not getting laid?" his father asked. "You forget your place, son. You're only what you are because of me and the sacrifices I've made over the years."