Chapter 56
Violet
I was pretty sure I was hyperventilating.
“What did you do to Aeris?” I managed to ask Jürgen, who stood against the wall like a statue. “Is she okay?”
He didn’t seem to care that I may or may not be having a heart attack. Okay, I wasn’t having a heart attack, but it felt close.
“She was caught somewhere she didn’t have permission to be,” he replied, not paying me any attention. “Her handler’s dealing with it.”
“Handler?” I wriggled in my uncomfortable seat, the only one in the entire room, my pulse frantic and my palms clammy. “What about Ryder? Is he okay? What did you mean you’re taking me to my father? I don’t have a father.”
“Does your mind race like this all the time?” he asked, finally turning to me. “Or only when you’re panicking?”
“Where’s my mum?” I asked for what must be the millionth time. “You said she was here, or was that all talk?”
I had no idea how much time had passed. They’d shoved a blindfold on me, dragged me into a car, and when it finally came off, I was in a windowless room with only Jürgen for company.
“Word of advice, this attitude of yours will get you hurt.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Do as you’re told. Stay quiet. You are to be seen and not heard unless directly spoken to.”
“Are you always this—”
“Practical?” he interrupted. “Yes, I am.”
“I was going to say insufferable.” I paused, annoyed with the faint whine of the light above me. “A prick also comes to mind.”
Jürgen didn’t react, his face deadpan. “He’s ready for you.”
Well, I wasn’t ready for him.
Before Jürgen could grab my arm, I stepped forward on my own, waiting as he unlocked the single door and gestured me through.
I had no idea where we were, but the hallway was almost unnervingly opulent. Striped wallpaper, golden sconces casting warm pools of light, and a plush beige carpet so soft it swallowed every footstep. It felt like walking through a showroom instead of a real place.
But the windows, or the absence of them, ruined the illusion. Every single one had been boarded up from the inside, suffocating the space and blocking out any trace of natural light.
Whatever this building was, it wasn’t meant to be lived in.
It was meant to hide things.
Or people.
Jürgen paused at another door, looking over his shoulder at me. “Remember my advice. If he allows you to speak, you will call him Vater.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond before the door was opened and I was introduced to an average-heighted man who stood beside a large leather armchair. His bowtie hung loose around his neck, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a pale chest dusted with dark hair.
His eyes locked onto mine, and a deep frown pinched his brow. “Sie sieht nicht richtig aus.”
“He said you look wrong,” Jürgen translated as his hand shot up, ripping the wig off my head. The jerk pulled at my hair and dislodged the cap beneath. “Your contacts. Remove them.”
I glared at him but reached up, sliding the lenses out one by one as the older man took a few steps closer.
“You’re her,” he said, this time in English, though the German edge in his voice was unmistakable. “My beautiful Raena.”
“Where’s my mum?” I asked, proud my voice didn’t shake. “Do you have her?”
The older man glanced at Jürgen, who dipped his head and left the room. “Sit down,” he demanded of me.
“Where’s my mum?” I asked again, this time louder. “I need—”
A sharp crack split the air, pain blooming hot across my cheek as my head snapped to the side. The rest of my pinned-up hair tumbled loose, spilling over my shoulder.
“Sit down,” he said calmly, gesturing to the sofa.
I lowered myself into the seat, refusing to react when he brushed a few stray strands of hair from my face before stepping back and settling into the armchair. A short table separated us, a pretty vase of flowers in the centre while a large mirror to my left reflected the scene back.
“You look like your mother. Same features, and definitely the same hair,” he chuckled, his smile so stretched it was a surprise his cheeks hadn’t split. “So long I’ve been looking for you. I thought you were dead.”
A hearth crackled to our side, throwing distorted shadows across his face. He had thick hair, a muddy brown peppered with white that blended into the neat beard covering his jaw. His eyes were large, a deep green the same as mine.
“Am I allowed to speak?” I whispered, ignoring how my stomach recoiled.
“Am I allowed to speak, Vater,” he corrected.
I swallowed the curse. “Am I allowed to speak, Vater?”
After a moment, he nodded.
“So, you’re the Caretaker.”
His head cocked to the side, his smile straining a little. “I’m your father.”
“My father’s dead.”
“Is that what she told you?” His expression darkened, the fire crackling and hissing as he frowned. “Your mother, your real mother, died shortly after childbirth.”
“Who was she?”
“A doll,” he said flatly. “But a pretty one that I favoured.”
He stood without hurry and crossed the room to a cabinet, lifting a decanter and pouring an amber liquid into a cut-crystal glass.
“She had the strangest craving,” he mused. “This flower—”
“Why am I here?” I interrupted, immediately cringing when he glared at me. “What do you want from me?”
“Want from you?” His footsteps were silent as he approached, choosing the seat beside me. The leather squeaked under his weight, the sound slicing through me. “You’re my daughter. My flesh and blood, and you were taken from me.” Tipping the glass to his lips he took a sip.
“Where’s… Greta?” I corrected before I called her mum.
“Is that the name she goes by now?” he laughed.
“When she was being trained with me, I called her Violet.” The crack of his glass against the table made me jump, a little of the amber splashing onto the wood beside the vase.
“How… amusing that’s what she renamed you.
The name which took away her autonomy. But then again, Violet was always a little on the twisted side. Always seeking attention.”
“Where is she?” I asked again, my voice quiet. Controlled.
Caretaker’s head cocked, watching me. “She’s being punished, of course.” Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a remote and pointed it at the mirror beside me.
The reflection flickered, and I turned to find it wasn’t a normal mirror at all.
“Don’t worry, she can’t see us. It’s one way.”
I jumped to my feet as the surface changed, my heart aching at the sight. It showed mum being suspended by her arms, her head slumped forward and her expression hidden by her hair. She was entirely naked as she was whipped enough to bleed, a man behind her thrusting violently…
Nausea rose up my throat, and I barely kept it down. Mum always said about the mirrors…
“Violet stole more than just you when she left,” he commented.
“She didn’t steal me,” I seethed, turning away from the glass to find Caretaker standing over me, his cologne overpowering. “She saved me!”
He grabbed my wrists, pulling me until we were almost chest to chest. “Is that what you think? That she saved you?” He laughed, blowing the stench of whiskey over my face.
“Du dummes M?dchen. You’ll have to ask her yourself when she’s finished with her session.
I’m sure she’ll have much to say about saving you. ”
“Get off me.” I tried to tug free, but his grip tightened to bruise. “Get off—”
He released me instantly, only to hurl me to the floor, looming over me as my nails clawed into the carpet.
“You’re really this ignorant?” he tutted, almost disappointed. “I guess you’d believe anything.”
Tears wet my face, and I flinched when he kneeled to cup my face.
“Do you really think she cares about you?” His voice was deceptively soft, almost gentle. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
My throat tightened. “Why are you doing this?”
“Does it matter?” He rose to his full height and extended a hand as if to help me up. I ignored it, pushing to my feet on my own.
Caretaker only sniggered, amused. He turned toward the door, his steps unhurried.
“Come along,” he beckoned. “Dinner should be served soon, and I’d like to show you what happens when you disobey.”