Chapter 8
Chase
“A drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“I want one.” Nikky drops her bony ass onto the seat beside me.
“Don’t look so disappointed. What were you expecting?
That my sister would just throw herself into your arms and you’d live happily ever after?
” She laughs derisively. “She’s been with Cyrus for years.
Okay, they were only friends when you were sentenced, but since then…
I guess things have changed. Apparently, their relationship has gotten…
deeper.” She licks her red lips provocatively.
“Cyrus has probably taken a deep dive into her… personality.”
When she reaches for her drink, I grab her by the elbow. A tingling races down my spine, my mind flooding with red-hot anger. I’d love to break her arm. I wouldn’t feel bad about it afterward—not even a little.
“You took part in it, too.”
She looks at me defiantly, her lips twisting into a crazed smile.
“You hurt her. I can’t understand why you guys were left alive.”
“Because we’re good. Well, I’m the only one left, so… because I’m good.”
“I’d love to kill you, too.”
“They say make love, not war. Why don’t you go down on me instead? That sounds so much better.” She grabs my dick.
“I think this should be done in the private rooms.”
I look at my brother as he walks in, acting like a god, while I’m treated like nothing. Even though I’m the one digging up dirt on people who eat out of Lucas’s palm.
Mayors, judges, politicians, public figures… who love to snort cocaine off the asses of hookers. Well, the intersection of business and politics is where corruption money grows on trees.
I let go of Nikky’s hand. She lets go of my dick. I don’t want anything from this crazy bitch. Her looks are worth nothing, because her soul is a rotten fruit riddled with worms.
Nikky turns to my brother, but when Catherine appears behind him, she grimaces, and the muscles around her eyes tighten.
“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Lucas’s lips pull into a tight, icy smile.
Both of us get lost in Catherine’s delicate beauty. Lucas’s little darling is not an average woman.
“Not my type,” I reply, pushing myself away from the counter, but Lucas grabs my arm. “Not so fast. My private room. Both of you.”
Nikky and I look at each other, her eyes full of fear, mine full of hatred.
We follow Lucas, Catherine, and my brother’s bodyguards into the private room, which is filled with heavy furniture exuding power.
This place is the exact opposite of Lucas’s home.
The walls are dark and oppressive, the cushioned armchairs are upholstered in red velvet, and the air is filled with the sweet, balmy scent of sandalwood and the bitter smell of smoke.
Two of the four guards stay in front of the door, and the other two enter with us. They stand behind us, backs straight, chins raised, hands clasped—ready to kill.
Lucas sits down in one of the huge armchairs that could pass for a throne.
Because my brother carries himself like a king.
And Catherine, like a queen. She’s always elegant—and cold, no emotion on her beautiful face.
She is a perfect match for my brother. I sometimes wonder, though, if she can talk at all, because I’ve never heard her say a word.
Catherine’s throne is only a tiny bit smaller than Lucas’s. We’re sitting in the much more humble armchairs facing the mahogany desk.
My brother is very methodical about how he picks his business partners, men, furniture, or food and drinks. According to him, the devil is always in the details.
Lucas cuts off the end of his cigar, lights it, and blows the smoke into the air. His gaze—unyielding like steel, a bottomless pit of evil darkness—flickers between us.
I cross my arms and lift my chin. I meet his cold, hard gaze. All I did was stop this crazy bitch.
“I thought I was being clear when I said you shouldn’t go near the girl.”
“She’s my sister.” Nikky drops her hands into her lap and wrings her fingers frantically.
Lucas doesn’t say anything, his face a mask of darkness.
He raises one eyebrow, deliberate and measured.
I feel like kicking the armchair out from under Nikky.
Lucas’s silence and the dark look on his face scare her.
She knows that in this world, silence can mean death.
The muscles around her eyes tighten, her gaze darting between Lucas and Catherine nervously. A large teardrop slips from her lashes.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Why did you go there?” A pleasant female voice breaks the silence. Both of us turn to Catherine in surprise. Her face still shows no emotion. Her hazel eyes and sandy-blond hair seem to glow in the soft light, just like the tiny pearls on her dress.
Lucas studies our faces. Our shock. His lips pull into a dark, menacing smile, then he takes a long pull from his cigar.
“I haven’t cut her tongue out, you see. Catherine is a smart woman. She knows when she can—and cannot—open her mouth.”
“I wanted to see her, and…” Nikky looks down for a moment, her face tilting sadly. “I wanted to hurt her.” She looks up at Lucas. “But only with words.”
“Only?” I growl, my fingers sinking into the upholstery of the armchair. “Haven’t you hurt her enough, Nikky?”
“This, from you, who kidnapped her from her family and locked her in a goddamn hole underground, doing God knows what else to her there?”
I jump from my seat, grab Nikky’s armchair, and get in her face.
“You don’t have to play the loving sister.
We both know you’ve always hated her. Even before the kidnapping, you were talking to your friends about how you were going to play cruel tricks on her.
You wanted to embarrass her, to make her look ridiculous. ”
She looks away, resentful. I grab her by the chin and turn her face toward mine. I force her to look into my eyes. To face the fucking facts.
“You thought I couldn’t hear you? That I wasn’t watching you? I was in your shadow. I knew what you were planning. Why do you think I took her with me? Why do you think I killed Mr. Miller, Nikky?”
She’s gasping for air, her angry eyes boring into mine, her nails biting into my hands.
When I let go of her chin, she rubs the red spot carefully.
“Yeah.” I give her a dark smile. “I would’ve killed your friends. Anyone who harms Grace will die. Consider yourself really fucking lucky you’re still alive.”
“Enough.” Lucas puts me in my place.
I sit back down in my chair, seething.
Lucas doesn’t take his eyes off Nikky for a second as she fusses with her posh dress. His dark, predatory gaze is full of danger.
“There is no forgiveness for the sins either of you committed, Chase.” Catherine’s condemning voice cuts through the room with the force of a bullet, and a barely perceptible crack appears even on Lucas’s emotionless, marble-like mask.
I look deep into her eyes. My vision burns red while she remains the delicate lady she always is, as if nothing were happening. As if she weren’t twisting knives in my insides, piercing my heart, then tearing them out along with it—mercilessly.