Chapter 2 #3
The boy she had loved hadn’t completely disappeared.
He was still there.
Buried beneath scars, grief, and ten years of unimaginable violence.
The two men had become one.
For the briefest moment, our eyes held.
A thousand unspoken memories passed between us.
Then the moment vanished.
The dining hall that had echoed with laughter only minutes earlier had become a mausoleum.
Turning back to them, I continued, “The only person in this house who ever loved me without conditions was my grandmother.”
For the first time that night, a trace of warmth crept into my voice.
“She never cared about the lies people whispered about my mother. She never called me a bastard or treated me as though I were less than the rest of you.”
A faint, bittersweet smile touched my lips.
“She only ever saw her grandson.”
She had been my refuge in a house that had never felt like a home.
The only person who had stood between me and their cruelty.
The only soul within Flynn Manor who had loved both Sarah and me without reservation.
When they dragged me away in handcuffs ten years ago, she wasn’t there.
Illness had confined her to her room.
But she refused to believe I had murdered Sarah.
She swore she would uncover the truth.
She promised she would prove my innocence and expose the person truly responsible for my sister’s death.
Three nights later...
She was dead.
Another silence settled over the room.
“My mother.”
“My little sister.”
“My grandmother.”
I let the words hang in the air.
“The only three people who ever loved me are all gone.”
My eyes swept across the table, growing colder with each passing heartbeat.
“And their deaths were no accident.”
The silence became suffocating.
“The men and women who murdered them are sitting right here.”
I let my gaze linger on each face.
“Not one of ye deserves another sunrise.”
I took another deliberate step forward.
“Today...” Every eye followed me. “...I’m here to deliver the justice ye’ve earned.”
No one interrupted.
No one dared.
“One by one...”
I pointed toward the manor doors behind me. “...I’ll drag every last one of ye outside this house.”
Another pause. “And I’ll slaughter ye like the rabid dogs ye are.”
A woman whimpered.
Someone quietly began praying.
I ignored them.
“This...”
I spread my scarred hands. “...is the day I imagined every single night inside Ravencliff.”
“The day that kept me alive. The day I promised my sister.”
My gaze hardened.
“Ye’ll beg.”
“Ye’ll cry.”
“Ye’ll plead for the mercy ye never offered a frightened boy or his innocent little sister.”
A cold smile spread across my face.
“And ye’ll receive none.”
My voice echoed through the silent hall.
“Hell is comin’ for the Flynn name.” I pressed a hand against my chest. “And I am the man bringin’ it.”
Terror swept across the table.
Several relatives openly wept.
Others stared at me as though death itself had walked into the room.
It had.
“But first...”
I stepped closer to the head of the table until only a few feet separated me from my grandfather.
“I want one answer.” My voice cracked like thunder. “Where did ye bury Sarah?”
No one answered.
Rage exploded through me.
“Where?”
With one violent sweep of my arm, I sent crystal glasses, silver platters, candles, and porcelain plates crashing onto the marble floor.
The deafening sound echoed through the mansion.
No one moved.
My eyes bored into Grandfather Flynn.
If anyone knew...
It would be him.
He had controlled every funeral. Every burial. Every family secret.
The old man slowly straightened in his chair, trying to reclaim a dignity that fear had already stolen.
His hands trembled despite his efforts to hide them.
“No one will tell ye.”
His voice was steady...
His fists were not.
“The look in yer eyes tells me ye’ll kill us regardless.”
He swallowed.
“So why should anyone speak?”
He spoke again in a rush, grasping at the first thing that might keep himself alive.
“There’s something you need to know.”
His voice trembled despite his effort to steady it.
“Your grandmother left a will for you.”
He licked his dry lips.
“She hid it where no one would ever think to look.”
His breathing grew uneven.
“It’s sealed inside the false bottom of the old cedar trunk in her private dressing room.”
He raised both hands slightly, as though afraid the slightest movement might get him killed.
“We couldn’t retrieve it.”
“She locked it away behind a passcode,” he said quickly, the words tumbling over one another in his desperation. “None of us could open it. We tried. She made sure of that.”
He swallowed hard.
“But... perhaps you can.”
His hopeful gaze lingered on me as though that single possibility might earn him another minute of life.
I let the silence stretch before turning my attention elsewhere.
“You.”
My voice settled on Seamus.
The youngest of my uncles stiffened at once.
“You’ll take him to my grandmother’s private dressing room.”
I inclined my head toward Bodgan.
“If my grandmother truly intended that will for me, she would never have used a code any of these people could guess.”
My jaw tightened.
“Try my birthday.”
I paused, my mind drifting to the woman who had loved me when no one else would.
“And if that doesn’t work...”
I looked at Bodgan.
“Enter it in reverse.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Seamus visibly flinched at the sound of my voice.
The color drained from his face as he climbed to his feet on trembling legs, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, too frightened to meet my gaze.
“Bodgan.”
“Boss.”
“You don’t leave his side for a second.”
A faint, merciless smile crossed my lips.
“If he so much as reaches for a phone, a weapon, or tries anythin’ clever...”
I looked directly at Seamus.
“...break both his knees.”
Seamus’s face turned ghostly white.
Bodgan gave a single nod.
“Understood.”
Pistol resting low but ready, he moved after Seamus with the silent precision of a hunting wolf.
The two disappeared down the long corridor toward the room that had once belonged to my grandmother.
The rest of the Flynn family remained exactly where they were.
No one spoke.
No one dared move.
The only sound left inside the grand dining hall was the slow dripping of Sergei’s blood... and the suffocating dread of a family realizing their past was finally catching up with them.
I turned away from the table and walked toward the only person in that cursed mansion whose presence didn’t fill me with hatred.
Yarina.
Every measured step felt strangely lighter than the last.
The murderous rage still burned inside me, but the closer I came to her, the more another part of me—the part I’d buried beneath ten years of prison walls and endless violence—began to surface.
She slowly lifted her head and our eyes met.
Everything else disappeared.
Her beautiful dark eyes shimmered with tears.
Her gaze fell briefly to my hand.
Then back to my face.
Without the slightest hesitation...
She reached for me.
The instant our fingers touched, a rush of warmth spread through my chest.
Her hand was still small against mine.
Still impossibly familiar.
She tightened her grip as though afraid I might disappear if she let go.
Then every ounce of strength she’d been holding together simply gave way.
“Romeo...”
Her voice broke.
She stepped forward and threw herself into my arms.
A sob tore from her chest.
Then another.
Within seconds, she was crying so hard her entire body shook against mine.
I caught her instinctively.
One arm wrapped securely around her waist.
The other cradled the back of her head, shielding her against my shoulder.
I held her firmly, refusing to let the world touch her.
The scent of her hair filled my senses.
Soft perfume. Rain. Salt from her tears.
It struck me with painful force.
She smelled exactly the way I remembered.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time since walking through Ravencliff’s gates...
I allowed myself to breathe.
The room faded away.
There was no Flynn family.
No blood. No revenge.
Only the woman who had kept my soul alive.
Yarina continued crying softly against my shoulder.
Between uneven breaths, broken words escaped her.
“Romeo...”
She clutched the back of my jacket tighter.
“I thought...”
Another sob interrupted her. “I thought they’d never let you out.”
“I waited.”
“I kept waiting.”
“I prayed every day.”
She looked up at me through tear-filled eyes.
“Every letter...”
A shaky smile appeared. “I kept every single one.”
Emotion tightened painfully in my chest.
She’d kept them.
All of them.
The countless letters I’d written beneath dim prison lights.
The ink stained by blood and bruised hands.
The promises. The dreams. The hope.
She’d never thrown them away.
I brushed a tear from her cheek with my thumb.
“I’m back now.”
My own voice sounded rougher than I’d intended.
“I’m here.”
I rested my forehead gently against hers.
“No one will ever take you away from me again.”
The words were quiet and absolute.
“I swear it on every scar they carved into my body. I swear it on every night I survived thinking of you.”
I swallowed hard.
Neither of us noticed the silence surrounding us until Bodgan cleared his throat respectfully.
“Boss.”
His deep voice gently pulled us back to the present.
Reluctantly, I loosened my embrace.
Yarina remained close, unwilling to step far from my side.
Neither was I.
Before releasing her completely, I squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“I’m here now.”
I offered her a small nod. Only then did I turn toward Bodgan.
He approached with measured steps, holding an aged parchment sealed with dark red wax.
Its edges had yellowed with time.
The Flynn family crest was pressed into the broken seal.
I accepted the document carefully.
For reasons I couldn’t explain...
My hands suddenly felt heavier than they had while holding a gun.
Breaking the brittle wax, I unfolded the neatly preserved pages.
Immediately, I recognized the elegant handwriting.
My grandmother’s.
The sight alone tightened my throat.
I began reading.
With every line...
The ground beneath my feet seemed to shift.
The truth unfolded piece by piece.
The impossible suddenly made perfect sense.