4. Soak This House In Blood
Chapter 4
Soak This House In Blood
T oday is the day. It has been five days since I watched my sister die. I have allowed myself to feel nothing since the moment played out before me on TV.
I’m waiting for our dinner guests to arrive, and once they leave, I’ll act. I cannot take another moment in this world, in this home, in the presence of Bryton and Stephan.
My anxiety, depression, and need for revenge are at war as they all ricochet around my chest.
Three sturdy knocks sound against the front door. My hands hold a slight tremble as I open it to our guests.
It’s Niko and Viktor. They fill the doorway, their faces flush with concern as they take in my appearance.
Viktor’s long black hair is pulled back in a makeshift bun, while Niko’s falls in disarray. Both men are once again in suits and ties, evidence of the true nature of their visits.
Business.
My beatings have not let up since I saw them last, and one of my eyes is difficult to open. Their attention is caught on my face, and I watch as their emotions flicker at the sight of my injuries.
Was that sympathy? The emotion is foreign. It does not exist in this home.
“Fuck,” Viktor’s voice is a husky rasp as he expels the word. He reaches up.
I flinch away from him, and his hand pauses awkwardly in the air an inch from where my cheek is. Slowly, ever so carefully, he flexes his fingers, brushing the outline of my face.
From his movement, the long sleeve he’s wearing has pulled up a bit, and I can just make out a tattoo of a griffin.
“Soon.” The word is barely audible as he drops his hand to his side. I watch as it forms a fist.
“Vik,” Niko growls in warning. But then his bright eyes meet mine, partially hidden by his shaggy dark hair, and I find it suddenly hard to swallow or breathe.
In the entirety of meeting the guests who come and go through this house, who conduct their business here, I have never met two men like these. Usually, I am disgusted, but in this instance? I find myself wanting to be touched for the first time in ages.
The stormy and charcoal eyes are soft with care, just like I imagined.
My hand reaches up gently and cups my cheek that Viktor caressed just a moment ago. There is a dull throb from the bruises, but besides that? He has left a needy ache behind.
I find his dark eyes and watch as a hundred emotions swirl through their depths before his attention flickers behind me.
The sound of steps approaching is what pulls me from my confusion, slamming me back into reality. I place steel bricks around my heart. This will be the last time I see these two men, because after they leave?
I drop my hand and gesture for the men to follow me.
Back to the elegant wooden table for one final meal.
After they leave?
I will soak this house in blood .