Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Stone
I somehow get my spoon to my mouth, but the usual pleasure of tasting her soup doesn’t arrive. Of course it doesn’t; she isn’t here anymore.
This mansion they call home is a fortress of evil, and the devil himself sits opposite me with a gloating smile plastered on his pompous face.
I’m not too doped up that I don’t feel the need to rip his head from his shoulders and douse him with my piss, after torturing the hell out of him first, of course.
“Your sister’s wedding was a celebration for all the family.” He smirks while Azrael’s gaze slices to mine, then returns to our father’s.
I nod and fight back the urge to be sick.
Every word and movement that come from my family is now amplified in my mind. “Your sister’s wedding was a celebration for all the family” replays, then I wince at the sting in my chest at the lack of acknowledgment for me. Am I not family too?
He’s never truly classed me as such, yet I’ve never let my mind wander any further than what I’ve been told. I’ve always accepted my predicament, however much it hurts.
The bastard child brought up in a trafficking compound and finally given a purpose within the family.
Only, that purpose was to serve them all along.
Our father swipes his hands on the napkin. “I got a pretty penny for her too. Lord knows I needed the money after the fuckups you’ve made recently.” He’s implying it’s my fault she’s been sold to the highest bidder.
His words are like venom, poisoning my bloodstream as agony tears through me. My sweet, innocent girl being touched or hurt by someone else is too much to bear, yet I perform as Azrael demands and remain seated.
“Her marriage was organized before the fight fuckups,” Azrael asserts, and it’s his lame attempt at bringing me reassurance.
“Still, there needs to be retribution for his actions.” His eyes lock onto mine. “Wouldn’t you agree, son?” His use of an unfamiliar nickname for me has my blood freezing, and I narrow my eyes.
He’s never called me son before, always refusing to acknowledge our actual connection.
Then he throws his head back on a loud, sick chuckle that sends a harrowing chill down my spine. “Dumb fucker has no clue. You’re dismissed.” He waves toward the door, and I push back in my chair.
Czar’s eyes implore mine. For what, I don’t know, nor do I care, because as I make my way toward the door, it feels like insects have burrowed beneath my skin. I can’t wait to get out of here, to strip myself bare and crumble into a heap on the shower floor.
My hand is on the door handle. “Oh, and Stone?”
My blood stills as I turn to face him.
“Yes, sir?” The words feel like sawdust in my dry mouth.
“Head on over to the gym, it needs—” He dabs the corner of his mouth on the napkin, and a cruel smile plays on his lips. “Renovation.”
Why? The place has recently undergone investment. He knows this. A sense of eagerness washes over me, and when Azrael and Czar straighten, the eagerness becomes dread.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper casually, feeling anything but.
Then I leave and close the door behind me, my hands shaking as I do so.
Hysteria radiates from me as I enter the foyer. “Take me to Eli’s gym,” I instruct the first security detail I see, and his eyes flash with panic.
“Now!” I bark as I stride toward the door with a renewed purpose and, worse, a fear of what awaits me.