Page 13 of Devil's Sinner

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Page 13 of Devil's Sinner

The car ride was rough, but we made it without incident. I walked into the prison, gave them my information, and got led through several doors. The last time I was here, Violet was with me. Thinking about that made something ache in my chest. I shrugged it off, and followed the guard to the waiting room.

“Right in there, Mr. Windsor.” The guard motioned. “I guess I don’t have to keep telling you that. You’re a regular.”

“Yep.” I downed a nod and walked inside.

I sat in the uncomfortable, dingy plastic chair of the prison, waiting for Cabot to arrive. My eyes wandered over the visitors, the prisoners. This was a shitty place to be stuck in, and I knew Cabot didn't have it easy. I felt sorry for him.

He was brought in, his wrists in handcuffs, and when he saw me, his top lip peeled back in disgust.

"I don't want to talk," he muttered as a guard showed him to his seat opposite of me at the plastic desk. There was only glass separating us.

He looked terrible. His skin was sallow and pale, with bruises blooming along his jawline and spreading under his prison uniform. My eyes roamed over his beaten body up to his face, seeing how he looked at me. Cabot's gaze was filled with disgust. He detested me.

I motioned for Hugo to pick up the phone, but he shook his head vehemently. Stubborn old bastard. I picked up the receiver on my end anyway, mouthing the only word that would make him pick up the receiver on his side of the glass.

“Violet.”

Cabot only hesitated for a split second before picking up. He kept staring at me, eyes filled with anger as they met mine. "What do you want, Windsor?"

His voice crackled over the line and for a second, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor fuck. But I had more pressing matters to deal with.

I clutched the phone handle and asked, loud and clear, "What do you know about Georgia's husband, Connor Peterson?"

Hugo Cabot glared at me through the impenetrable glass.If looks could kill...Luckily for me, Hugo was powerless here. Just as powerless as I felt going up against his son-in law.

"Please," I went on. "This is important."

"Important?" he glared at me. "How could my son-in-law be important right now?"

"Violet," I went on. "Violet is-"

"Stop saying her name!" Hugo beat his fist against the glass a single time, earning a yell from the guard and sheepishly sitting back in his chair. His hate-filled eyes went back to mine, digging deep, as if he wanted to uncover every one of my secrets. "I know what you've done, you pervert. I know what you've been doing to my baby girl."

I smirked. "Nothing she didn't want."

"You're sick," he spat out. "When I get out of this hellhole—and believe me, I'll be out soon—I'm leaving the door wide fucking open for you, Windsor. I have no doubt they'll put me right the fuck back after I'm done with you. After I make you pay for what you've done to my innocent daughter."

I smirked. Cabot was pushing it, and I couldn't not take the bait. I leaned back without a care in the world as I said, loud enough for him to hear, "Not so innocent anymore."

"I'm going to make you pay for everything you've put her through," Cabot hissed. And then it was his turn to smirk at me. "Although, it looks like somebody beat me to it."

I touched my face on reflex. The bruise was still swollen, my jaw tender and swollen from the kick to the face I'd suffered by one of Peterson's guards. It still fucking hurt, even if my pride took the biggest hit.

"So," Cabot went on, more confident about his seeming victory. "Connor is responsible for that lovely bruise, is he?"

"He is," I replied. There was no point in hiding the truth. Violet's father needed to learn the truth, and soon.

"Good." The reply was a low grumble, and the old man seemed pleased by my answer. "Now get to the fucking point, Windsor."

"Right," I got out through gritted teeth. "About your precious son-in-law..."

"What about him?"

"I'm pretty sure he's abusing his wife. And I also think he used her, your older daughter, to trick Violet into leaving me."

"You're pretty sure?" Cabot smirked at me. "What good is that? You got anyone to corroborate this idiotic story you've put together in your messed up mind?"

"You're just going to have to trust me on this one." I tapped my fingers against the plastic handles of the chair, reminding myself I'd have to take a scalding hot shower at home to get rid of the prison germs. It was a small luxury, but one Violet's father sure as hell didn't have while he was stuck here.




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