Chapter 9
“What’s the emergency?” Because there had to be one, that was the only reason West’s father would ever choose to meet with him alone.
The house was quieter than usual, with less staff moving about, and West glanced around the living room as he sat at the end of the couch, waiting for his father to reply.
Demitrious was seated in the plush leather chair at the end of the coffee table, playing the man of the house with his cigar and air of superiority. It was sickening, but not something West would have to put up with for much longer.
“Amidst the chaos the Ferds have brought upon us with their tarnished household, we haven’t yet had the chance to discuss what happened at the Club House,” Demitrious finally stated, after making West wait for it.
It was day three of Demons Passing, and the rest of the world was celebrating with their families. Meanwhile, West was here, forced to listen to his father sling accusations his way.
Not that those accusations didn't hold merit. They did.
Lake had reminded him of this when he’d been on his way out the door this morning. They’d escalated their plans in order to deal with Juri, but had misstepped. If they’d known the guy was about to keel over, they wouldn’t have brought Demitrious and his many misdeeds into the light so soon.
They’d tipped their hand.
Now it was up to him to do damage control.
West was almost one hundred percent certain, however, that he would be failing miserably at that task. Everyone knew his father preferred Lake over him. It was no great secret. But that was why they were suspicious when he’d been the one called here today instead.
“Lake was protecting his position and his Royal Consort,” West tried anyway, keeping his tone breezy, as though this weren’t a big deal. “That’s all it was. Fortunately, Juri was taken out before things escalated.”
“Half of the Order won’t speak to me,” Demitrious stared him down and took a long drag on his cigar. “You call that fortunate?”
“It’s nothing we can’t fix. Once Lake takes the throne—”
“This has always been your problem, son,” he cut him off. “You can never take accountability. It always has to be Lake’s fault, never your own.”
…Okay, what the actual fuck?
“That isn’t true,” West blurted, realizing too late how stupid he was for playing right into his father’s hands.
“You’ve already mentioned him twice,” Demitrious pointed out.
“I was explaining—”
“I don’t need you to explain Lake’s actions to me. I know he has his own reasons for doing things, and I trust his judgment. That isn’t why we’re here. We’re here to talk about you.”
West bristled. “Me?”
“Yes.” Demitrious motioned with his chin to a closed file on the center of the coffee table, waiting for West to pick it up and flip it open.
“To say I’m disappointed would be an understatement.
The fact that you were aware of this, yet were unable to find the one responsible before they could kill the youngest member of the Ferd family speaks volumes to your capabilities. ”
West’s brow furrowed as he stared at a printout of his medical file from when he’d been poisoned. It shouldn’t have even been accessible—he’d taken care of wiping those files from his doctor’s system himself—but here it was, printed in black and white.
“How did you get this?” He pulled them free, and something slipped out from between the pages, drifting to the floor between his feet.
He stared down at the golden-edged ticket with his name printed on it, frozen in place.
“Someone tried to kill my son,” Demitrious said. “You didn’t think I’d have ways to find that out?”
“If you’re about to launch into some false narrative about how you keep tabs on me, save it. We both know I’m unimportant in your eyes.” West snatched up the ticket and held it in the air. “What is this?”
“You’re a liability,” he stated. “You put yourself at risk and therefore left Lake open to attack. Then, instead of using all of the advantages at your fingertips, you chose to hide this from me out of pride.”
Ah, so that’s what this was about.
It wasn’t that West had believed for even a second that his father was actually upset on his behalf—Demitrious was probably more annoyed they’d failed at killing him than anything else—but he’d still thought perhaps this was really about him this time.
Of course not.
It was always Lake. His father’s universe revolved around the future emperor and no one else, not even his own flesh and blood. Hell, if Demetrious somehow got his hands on a poison like the one used on him, he’d probably dose West with it himself just to get him out of the way.
“You hate that he confides in me and not you.” It was an unspoken truth, an infallible fact they were both aware of but never brought to light. But West didn’t have to hold onto uncomfortable truths anymore. He had Nix. More importantly, Nix had chosen him.
Lake had forced his bite, but West?
West’s had been a gift.
He wasn’t delusional. He saw the way the two looked at one another, knew there was something special between Nix and Lake, something unique.
But that’s how it was with everyone. No two relationships were ever exactly the same.
Even his friendships with Yejun and Lake differed.
What mattered was that he loved Nix, and Nix—
Love.
Wow.
The word sent him momentarily reeling, but he didn’t have long to dwell on that massive realization, not while in his father’s presence.
“Don’t be absurd,” Demitrious scoffed, and for a split second, West thought he was talking about being in love with Nix, before he recalled what he’d said. “Lake goes to you for childish banter, but he needs me. I’m the one who paved the way for him. I taught him—”
“Rewriting history now?” West rolled his eyes. “His parents prepared him for his role. They taught him what he needed to know about becoming an emperor, and anything else after that? That wasn’t you either.”
Lake was as independent as they came. No one could take credit for how he’d turned out, and if someone tried? It was going to be either West or Yejun. Certainly not Demitrious.
“This is exactly what I mean. You’ve clearly forgotten your place, son.
Your rebellion stops here, before you can influence Lake any further.
I had thought this began with the appearance of that Phoenix Monroe boy, but apparently it runs deeper than that.
” Demitrious motioned toward the medical file.
“This happened months before his arrival, after all. He’s still a problem that needs dealing with, but first, it’s obvious to me that I need to go straight to the source of this discontent sewn between Lake and me.
I already spoke with the Sangs. They’ll be sending their son off-world as well.
As for you, you’ll take that ticket and board the first ship to Drax within the next two hours.
Your things will be sent after you. I’ve taken care of transferring your records to Hype University.
Finish up the rest of school there, and then we’ll reevaluate and see whether or not you’re fit to return. ”
Yejun had taken a call from his older sister last night, but when West had seen him this morning at breakfast and asked about it, he’d shrugged and said not to worry about it. Had that been the topic of conversation?
Demitrious really didn’t know them at all, did he? Or, at least, he didn’t know Yejun or the relationship he had with his sister.
She was the only one in his corner, the one who Yejun felt comfortable enough talking to about his future and the things he really wanted and didn’t want. She would never force him to relocate, even if their parents insisted.
West didn’t have that. All his life, he’d struggled with pleasing his father.
With wanting to earn his respect and gain his affection.
It wasn’t even love he was after—he’d given up on that as a child—but his attention?
His praise? He’d still wanted it. Badly enough, he’d turned on his best friend and made everything between them a never-ending competition.
Lake wasn’t the problem here, though. He had never been.
“Since you made the foolish mistake of biting that unworthy filth,” Demitrious continued, “I’ll have to navigate that situation more carefully.
We can’t have a commoner like that in our family register, let alone on the throne next to Lake.
A Royal Consort can’t just be anyone. I’ll have him placed somewhere we won’t have to worry about him drawing attention, and I’ve already contacted the best plastic surgeon in the galaxy.
They’ll take care of removing the marks and—”
West never argued with his father. There simply wasn’t a point to it. In the end, he always rolled over and did as he was told, because they needed Demitrious’s influence and backing to ensure Lake kept his place in the line of succession.
The fact that Demitrious never noticed him enough to be able to tell if he agreed with something or not factored in. He didn’t care about West, didn’t care about what he wanted, who he was as a person, or how hard he’d worked to prove himself.
He’d always treated Lake like the son he’d always wanted, and West had been embarrassingly jealous over that.
But Demitrious was sitting here now, talking about how he was going to rip Lake’s chosen mate away from him, despite the claiming mark. Demitrious was going to do as he pleased because he believed he knew best.
Because the reality was, he viewed them both equally after all.
West had been wrong. His father didn’t care for Lake more than he cared about him.
They were both merely pawns in Demitrious’s bid for control over the crown.
He was still talking, going on and on about his plans to silence Nix and ensure his family never spoke out. For how Lake would eventually see reason and thank him for acting in his stead.
West was on his feet before he even realized what he was doing, the ticket crumpling in his fist as a wave of unbridled fury swept through him.
“What gives you the right?” he asked, and there must have been a thread of that anger in his tone, for his father actually shut up, his eyes widening ever so slightly. And it was in that look that West really remembered who he was.
He was West Corleone, best friend of the future emperor, already considered a pro wrestler on planet, and feared by even members of the High Council.
He hadn’t beaten and raged his way through adolescence, carved out a name for himself as one of the most terrifying Demons to have ever existed, just so some wrinkly old man past his prime could walk all over him.
“Who do you think you are?” West sneered and gave him a disgusted once-over. “You’re nothing.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve already been excused.” He twisted his wrist to access his multi-slate and opened the secure app he’d stored there. With only three clicks, he sealed his father’s fate. “The Order knows about all of your misdeeds. The High Council has chosen to crown Lake. We don’t need you anymore.”
He was making this decision without Lake or Yejun, but it was true. Everything had already lined up perfectly for them. Demetrious was powerless to stop them now, which meant West didn’t need to hold onto these feelings of insecurity any longer.
If Nix could find a way to get over all of the things he’d been forced to endure, the least West could do was handle his own daddy issues.
“Source of discontent? That’s you. Look in the mirror, Father.
You’ve done nothing but push us into corners our whole lives.
Trust you to make the tough decisions? You’ve never made a choice that didn’t benefit you, to hell with everyone else.
You don’t know the meaning of compromise or sacrifice.
You would make for a terrible ruler and an even worse lover, so you have no right to sit there and pretend you understand anything Lake or I are feeling. ”
“Feelings are—”
“The only thing unimportant in this room, Demitrious,” he growled, “is you.” West dropped the file back onto the table, sending papers flying. “Keep your threats and your delusions of grandeur, but know this. I’m done bowing to your shadow. If you come for what’s mine, I’ll destroy you.”
Demitrious puffed out his chest, fuming. “How dare you! You cocky little—”
“If you’d ever bothered to learn anything about me, you’d know it’s not false confidence making me say this.
I have the skills and the knowledge to back up my threats.
Don’t believe me? Check your email. I sent a direct message to every member on the Order, which, up until now, meant you as well.
Though, I don’t imagine you’ll sit there for much longer. ”
His father seemed to struggle with wanting to save face, but eventually he accessed his device and checked, face turning red the moment he started to read and saw West was telling the truth.
He’d been sitting on that file for years. A compiled document containing all of Demitrious’s criminal dealings behind the Order’s back, many of which had resulted in direct losses for them.
“Now the whole world will see that you’re nothing more than an empty shell. You talk a good game, but you don’t know the meaning of the word loyalty.” West tossed the balled-up ticket onto the ground between his father’s feet. “Here. Looks like you’re the one who’s going to need this.”
He’d dreamed of the day he’d finally grow a backbone and tell his father off. Of the moment they no longer needed to kiss Demitrious’s ass, and West could air all his grievances. But now that it was finally here, he found there wasn’t nearly as much to say as he’d once thought.
Talking to someone like Demitrious was the same as talking to an empty room.
A complete and total waste of time.
“One last thing.” West waited until his father tore his gaze off the screen and rested it back onto him. “If I ever hear you’ve spoken badly of Nix again, I’ll cut out your tongue and let Yejun piss on it while you watch. No one gets to say shit about my man.”
West didn’t rush out. He took his time leaving the mansion he’d grown up in, the one filled with memories of him and Lake living side by side. Of lonely nights, stewing in his envy, feeling sorry for himself. Plotting ways to make his dad take notice and care, for even a fleeting moment.
It was easy to go.
His real family had never called that home anyway.