18. Moth
Chapter eighteen
Moth
Prince has summoned me to his office for a stern talk. This should be fun.
Looks like I’m in trouble.
I’ve been binge drinking non-stop, and my room is covered in empty cans and bottles.
Worst of all, it stinks to the high heavens. I’m even worse than Hunter now.
My brother barely leaves his room, which makes two of us.
That’s what he gets for sneaking down into the prison block to get a glimpse of our guest, and it looks like he’s already become attached.
I know the feeling…
Except my situation is a little different; I stumbled upon Snow by accident when I was a child, and if my younger brother’s despair is anything to go by, then Snow still hasn’t lost that raw shine.
I have never seen my brother broken over a single woman.
He treats every single one of his lovers like they’re disposable, and he never fucks the same women twice.
And now he is moping in his room over the only woman I have ever cared about.
Yeah, a woman I saw for all but five minutes.
Snow is the kind of girl who can change your life forever, and my fate was sealed the day I first saw her as a boy of seven.
No other girl has ever been able to come close to her.
None of them inspired that same sense of awe. I think I understand why some men name ships after women.
Maybe I can name a boat after Snow…
It's just a shame that Prince has set his sights on her.
We all know that her days are numbered. I send a silent prayer to God every day that he spares her.
Sooner or later, Prince will kill her, and honestly, I may just die along with her.
I’ve tried to convince myself she’s just one woman. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
This world truly is unfair. I learned that the day my mother was found dead in her bed.
I’m turning into her. I knock on the door of Prince’s office, taking a steadying breath as I try to keep it together.
Mother’s face won’t leave me as he calls out, inviting me into his office.
We’re only allowed in here when he gives us permission.
It’s his throne room. All the inner workings of our empire take place inside these four walls, and sometimes, I wonder how he manages to keep it together.
I envy the bastard. I always have.
He rarely cracks, always the ever-stalwart head of our organization.
But lately, I spy him slipping, and I see that now as I take stock of his unkempt hair and unfastened tie as I wait for his instruction to sit.
I can’t help but glare at him as he stomps out his cigarette in an ashtray beside him.
When did he take up smoking again?
Around the time I started drinking, perhaps?
I’m starting to see a correlation.
“Sit, Timothée.”
Oh, so it’s Timothée now.
Jackass.
I take a seat reluctantly, never taking my unwavering gaze off him as he tries to get his wits about him.
He looks rough. Lines bracket his mouth, making him look like a marionette, and bruises hang heavy beneath his eyes. A slow smirk curves my lips.
He looks almost as rotten as I feel.
Good.
This should be tearing him apart.
I hope this haunts him for the rest of his life, and I hope that whenever he sleeps at night, it’s her brown eyes he sees.
Finally, Prince looks up at me, putting on the mask of the ruthless mafia boss again, but he can’t fool me.
I saw him break for a single sweet moment, and I will cherish it always.
Finally, he laces his fingers and leans back in his leather chair with a squeak.
I imitate his action, lounging back in the seat as I place one arm over the back, spreading my legs apart.
I’m far too casual looking for his liking, and I spy the way the corner of his eye ticks slightly.
“So, Timothée. Have anything you want to share?”
I shrug, tipping my head to the side. “No. Do you?”
His jaw clenches. “Explain the drinking. You smell like a public house restroom.”
Nice. Paints quite the picture…
“And you smell like a chain-smoking hooker. So, we’re even.”
Oh, he did not like that quip one bit, and now that green eye glows. “Hold your tongue.”
Hold your tongue.
I get it. He’s proper…
We all went to private school, but Prince still thinks he is better than the rest of us.
I know him, though. He has the dirtiest mouth of us all.
He's the most twisted of us all.
“Get it together, brother. You are a Diamante man. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”
My fingers drum on the arm of my chair. “Is that what you tell yourself when you have her in your torture chamber?”
Prince’s eyes flare, and now he rises in his seat, hovering over me as if he’s about to lay down the law.
Again, I don’t look away from his eyes. He’s not fooling me.
I know this is killing him. But he’s so hellbent on avenging our father.
I’m not the friendliest person, and I can’t even recollect the last time I truly smiled, but even I’m not that much of a brute.
How is it Snow’s fault that her father killed ours?
Prince just needs to throw the blame somewhere since Leroy is now dead, and Regina is untouchable.
Now, there’s a woman I wouldn’t mind strapping down and torturing. She is not gracious, and she’s cruel.
Honestly, she makes me miss Leroy.
At least that man knew when to draw the line.
That woman does not.
Before Prince can spew his vitriol, a knock sounds on the door, and he closes his eyes, palming his forehead. “Enter.”
The door opens, and my eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise when I spy the shitty look on Saint’s face. He, too, looks just as rotten as I feel.
I almost don’t want Casper to see her.
We should preserve his innocence and na?veté as much as possible.
Unlike us, he has some goodness left in him.
Something to be cherished.
Snow is just another faceless stranger in his eyes; he has yet to feel his soul being torn from the soles of his feet.
That’s how it felt when I first saw Snow, and I was only seven.
I don’t even know how I would react now as a grown man.
“Prince, we need to talk.”
Prince lowers himself back in his chair, indicating the empty seat beside me. “Well, sit.”
Saint glances down at me, and I shrug in that noncommittal fashion of mine.
Our cousin concedes, and like me, he doesn’t take his gaze off Prince. “We can’t keep doing this. She’s an innocent girl.”
My heart jumps to my throat, and I rise in my seat.
This is a discussion I do not wish to partake in.
“No, you sit, Moth. You should be here for this.”
Looks like it’s Moth again.
I glance at my brother. Then at Saint as I sit back down, feeling a headache coming on.
Prince eyes me up and down before returning his gaze to Saint. “Continue.”
Saint says his peace. “Consider Casper’s option. Hire her as our new maid.”
“Hire?” I scoff. “She’d be our slave , cuz. You know it.”
His ice-blue eyes flash as he throws a glare at me. “I was just getting to that.”
Prince cocks an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, let’s hear it.”
Saint looks his way. “If she cleans for us, then we can let her stay in the house.”
Yeah, I’m still failing to see how she wouldn’t be our slave.
Giving her a room is not payment.
Prince clenches his fist. “And why on earth would I want to house my enemy’s daughter?”
Saint smirks. “Because you know that killing her is wrong, Prince. She is not the enemy you think she is.”
Once again, Prince rubs between his eyes, and I regard him strangely.
Is he seriously considering Saint’s proposal?
Well, no, the credit goes to quiet little Casper.
Still, it’d be an awful idea. I am not prepared to lay eyes on her again.
“So, are you suggesting we have her clean for us while we still keep her around for questioning?”
Saint sighs. “I know you don’t trust her, but I think she is telling the truth when it comes to Regina. The woman doesn’t care about her.”
Prince removes his hand from his face, drumming his fingers.
We could always just let her go.
But I know my brother better than that.
He would never relinquish control of his little prize.
Snow is his now, and we would be fools to challenge him.
Saint waits for Prince’s response. My brother’s taking his time, grappling with his own conscience.
With a gritty sigh, he cuts Saint with a piercing glare, baring his teeth. “I will consider it.”
Saint drops his shoulders, and I study him.
If I didn’t know him any better, I would say that he was starting to grow attached to the girl, and I guess that makes three of us.
No, scratch that.
Angel, Hunter, and Knight have been bent out of shape, too, since meeting her.
So, that makes six of us.
Seems Prince is outnumbered.
“Anything else?” he asks Saint.
Saint shakes his head. “No, that is all, cousin. Thank you for considering my proposal.”
Finally, he rises, throwing me a withering look on his way out, and soon it’s just me and Prince.
Prince looks at me expectantly, and I rise from my own seat, throwing my palms up as I leave the room.
Well, it looks like we have ourselves a new maid.
I’ll just have to make sure I avoid her at all costs.