Chapter 20 #2
I snort into my wine glass, unable to contain myself. “Don’t you mean Devereux? Technically, that should be my name too, right...daddy?”
The room goes completely silent. Vincent freezes mid-bite, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth. His face drains of all color, then flushes deep red in rapid succession.
“What did you just say?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I take a slow sip of wine, relishing the moment. “Oh, my mother didn’t tell you that she finally told me? How very interesting.”
Vincent’s eyes flick to Lucien. “Perhaps this isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.”
“Oh, I think it’s exactly the right fucking conversation,” I snap, leaning forward. “Because I’ve been told I’m your daughter, which is pretty fucked up.”
Vincent turns to Lucien. “Control your Chosen.”
“She’s not a dog to be muzzled,” Lucien replies, his voice icy.
Vincent’s face contorts like he’s just bitten into something rotten. His usually composed demeanor fractures before my eyes as he sets down his fork with a sharp clink against fine china.
“This conversation is not happening,” he hisses, leaning forward with both palms pressed against the table. “Not here, not now, not ever.” His eyes dart between Lucien and me. “Who else knows about this?”
I exchange a glance with Lucien, who gives a casual shrug that matches my own.
“Jesus Christ,” Vincent mutters, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up in a way I’ve never seen before. “Answer me! Who knows?”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I say coolly, taking another sip of my wine. “Why would I broadcast that I’m your illegitimate daughter? Not exactly something to brag about.”
Vincent’s composure slips further. “This is a disaster,” he whispers, more to himself than to us. “A complete fucking disaster.”
“I have no idea who my mother has told,” I continue, enjoying the way he squirms under my gaze. “And well, your son?” I gesture toward Lucien with my wine glass. “That’s your problem, not mine. After all, you raised him to be the way he is.”
Lucien’s lips curl into a proud smile that makes my stomach flip despite myself. He looks like the cat that got the fucking canary, all self-satisfaction and dangerous promise.
“Yes, Father,” Lucien drawls, leaning back in his chair. “You molded me so well. Taught me everything I know about power and how to wield it.” He raises his glass in a mocking toast. “To your excellent parenting.”
Vincent’s face is turning purple, and I can’t help but feel a wave of satisfaction watching him lose his perfect composure. The power dynamic in this room is shifting before my eyes, and I’m suddenly tired of sitting across from him.
I set my wine glass down and push my chair back, the scrape against the hardwood floor cutting through the tense silence. The jersey dress slides up my thighs as I stand, and I notice Vincent’s eyes dart down before quickly looking away in disgust.
Instead of walking directly to Lucien, I deliberately take the long way around the table, my fingertips trailing along the polished wood as I move behind Vincent.
I can feel his body tense as I pause directly behind his chair, my hand resting on the back of it, close enough that he can probably feel the heat from my body.
“You know,” I say softly, letting my fingers brush against his shoulder just to watch him flinch, “for someone who claims I’m not his daughter, you sure seem concerned about who knows about this little family secret.”
Vincent goes rigid under my touch, and I continue my slow circuit around the table, enjoying the way his eyes follow me like he’s watching a venomous snake.
When I reach Lucien, I stop directly in front of him. His eyes are dark with hunger as he looks up at me, a wicked gleam in those emerald depths. I lean down, my lips brushing against his ear.
“Let’s really fuck with him,” I whisper, my voice low enough that only Lucien can hear.
Lucien’s hand slides to my waist, and I’ve never seen him look more like the devil he’s rumored to be than in this moment—full of promise and violence as he pushes his chair back from the table just enough for me to perch on his lap.
I settle onto his thighs, crossing my legs deliberately so that the jersey dress rides up obscenely high, exposing most of my thigh. The heat of his body seeps through the thin fabric, and I can feel him hardening beneath me.
Vincent looks like he might actually have a stroke. His eye is twitching uncontrollably, his jaw clenched so tight I can practically hear his teeth grinding. His fist is wrapped around his fork with such force that the metal is bending under the pressure.
“Is something wrong, Father?” Lucien asks, his voice dripping with false concern as his hand settles possessively on my exposed thigh.
“This is inappropriate,” Vincent hisses, his knuckles white around the bent silverware. “Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Is it?” I tilt my head innocently, shifting slightly on Lucien’s lap. “I thought this was how all Chosen ones were supposed to behave. Isn’t that right, Lucien?”
Lucien’s hand slides possessively up my bare thigh, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin just below the hem of the dress. “Absolutely,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my neck. “Father, you of all people should understand the...physical nature of the choosing.”
Vincent slams his hand down on the table, making the crystal glasses jump. “Enough! This display is disgusting.”
“Is it?” I retort, feeling reckless and vengeful. I deliberately wiggle my ass against Lucien’s obvious erection. “I mean, well sinners sin, isn’t that right? That’s what you taught him.”
Vincent’s face darkens to an alarming shade of purple. He shoots to his feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“Get off your fucking brother, Seraphina!” he bellows, spit flying from his mouth. His composure is completely shattered now. “This is depraved! This is—“
“Your web of lies is catching up to you,” I snap, but stay firmly planted on Lucien’s lap, his hand still possessively gripping my thigh.
Vincent ignores me completely, turning his fury toward Lucien.
“You are a disgrace to this family,” he snarls, jabbing a finger in Lucien’s direction.
“I gave you everything. The best schools, the best opportunities, the family legacy!
And this is how you repay me? By debasing yourself with this—this—“
“Careful how you finish that sentence,” Lucien warns, his voice deadly quiet.
I shiver at the way he’s so quick to immediately defend me. I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before.