Chapter 2 #4
After I was convicted and sentenced to spend the rest of my life in prison, my grandmother refused to accept the verdict.
She pleaded with my grandfather to intervene.
She begged my father, my uncles, and every influential member of the Flynn family to appeal the judgment or use their connections to secure my release.
No one listened.
To them, justice had already been served.
I was a murderer, and Ravencliff was where I belonged.
But my grandmother refused to abandon me.
Determined to save me, she sought help in secret, telling no one within the Flynn family what she intended to do.
Instead, she turned to an old friend—a man she had known since childhood. Long before she married my grandfather, fate had almost led her down a different path, one that might have ended with the two of them together. Life, however, had other plans, and they had gone their separate ways.
Years later, that man had become the patriarch of the Sokolov Bratva.
One of the most feared men in the criminal underworld.
She went to him and struck a bargain.
In exchange for a promise I have yet to uncover, she asked him to do two things.
First, to use every ounce of his influence to have my sentence reduced from life imprisonment to something less.
Second, to ensure that, for however long I remained inside Ravencliff, the Sokolov Bratva would protect me.
Now, at last, I understand the truth.
Without my grandmother, I would never have walked out of Ravencliff alive.
My life sentence would never have been reduced.
I would have died behind those walls, forgotten by the world and abandoned by my own blood.
And if the Sokolov Bratva had not honored the promise they made to her, I doubt I would have survived even my first year in prison.
A lump rose in my throat as I reached the final pages.
With every line I read, the truth my grandmother had carried to her grave slowly unfolded before me.
The will revealed the bargain she had struck with the old patriarch of the Sokolov Bratva.
Years ago, when they were young, they had loved one another. They had dreamed of building a life together, but fate had torn them apart before either of them could make those dreams a reality.
According to his own handwritten letter, the old man had told her:
“If fate denied us the life we were meant to share... perhaps it will be kinder to our grandchildren.”
So they made a pact.
Upon my release from prison, I was to marry the first daughter of the Sokolov family and remain married to her for no less than two years.
Only after fulfilling that condition would I inherit the fortune my grandmother had left behind.
At the heart of that inheritance was a rare diamond worth billions—a stone they had purchased together in their youth when they still believed they would one day become husband and wife.
The agreement bound both families.
The woman chosen for me would also have to marry me before she could gain access to the trust fund waiting in her own name.
I stared at the words for a long moment.
Old people.
Making promises.
Binding the lives of grandchildren who had never been asked whether they wanted any part of them.
Then another realization struck me.
Yarina...
She was one of the Sokolov granddaughters.
But she wasn’t the first daughter.
The blood drained from my face.
My chest tightened as though an invisible hand had closed around my heart.
No...
Slowly, I lowered the pages.
My mind raced as a terrible possibility began to take shape.
I slowly lifted my head from the document.
Across the room, my eyes found Yarina’s.
She was already watching me.
Her expression held questions she was too afraid to ask.
Around us, the Flynn family remained frozen in uneasy silence.
Even they seemed to understand that whatever I had just read had changed something fundamental.
I didn’t know who the hell the first Sokolov granddaughter was, nor did I have the slightest desire to find out.
I hadn’t survived ten years in Ravencliff...
I hadn’t clawed my way back from hell...
Only to shatter Yarina’s heart.
“There has to be another way,” I said through clenched teeth.
No one around the table understood what I meant.
No one except my grandfather.
A knowing look settled over his face.
“If I’m right about what your grandmother wrote,” he said quietly, “then the will requires you to marry the first granddaughter of the Sokolov family before you can inherit what she left you.”
His voice remained steady, but I caught the faint tremor beneath it.
For a moment, I wondered how he could possibly know the contents of a will that had been sealed away for ten years.
Then I remembered.
He had been my grandmother’s husband.
Perhaps, in the early years of their marriage—when love still outweighed suspicion, and trust had yet to give way to bitterness—she had confided in him.
Perhaps she had shared enough of her plans for him to piece together the rest on his own.
My grandfather drew a slow breath before continuing.
“I suspected this was her intention all along.”
His gaze never left mine.
“She intended to leave everything to you.”
“The estates. The businesses. And the diamond mine. Everything your grandmother and I spent a lifetime building... she intended to place in your hands.”
He paused.
“But I made certain that none of it could pass into your hands without my signature.”
“Even if you fulfill every condition in that will—even if you marry the first daughter of the Sokolov family and remain married to her for two years—you still won’t be able to claim your inheritance.”
“So, if you kill me tonight... or if you carry out the massacre your eyes have been promising since you walked through those doors...”
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
“Then you’ll never have my signature. And without it, everything your grandmother left you will remain forever beyond your reach.”
My jaw tightened.
So that was it.
This was why he had insisted the will be brought.
Not out of remorse.
Not because he wanted me to know my grandmother’s final wishes.
He had found his bargaining chip.
The old man knew death had come for him.
And he was clinging to the only leverage he had left.
A cold fury settled over me.
Did he truly believe he had earned the right to bargain?
These people had taken everything from me.
My mother. Sarah. Ten years of my life.
The verdict had already been passed.
They were going to die.
I owed my freedom to my grandmother, and I would honor her memory until my last breath.
But I would not dishonor her by allowing her murderers to walk free.
I turned slowly toward Keegan, my voice dropping to a lethal calm.
“Take them outside.”
He nodded once.
“Strip every last one of them bare. Let the cold bite first.”
My gaze locked on the Flynn family, eyes flat and merciless.
“They’re going to watch each other bleed out. Slowly. Screaming my name.”
Keegan and Bodgan carried out my command without hesitation.
The room erupted into chaos.
Chairs scraped violently across the floor.
Family members cried out as they were hauled to their feet.
Expensive suits, dresses, jewelry, and every symbol of Flynn pride were stripped away, leaving only frightened people clinging to what little dignity remained.
“Please, Romeo!” one uncle cried, dropping to his knees before Keegan dragged him upright. “Have mercy!”
“We’re family!” another shouted desperately.
My father struggled the hardest.
“You can’t do this!” he roared.
Even he heard the fear cracking his own voice.
I watched without expression.
No satisfaction. No hesitation.
Only cold resolve.
One by one, they were driven toward the front doors until the grand dining hall stood nearly empty.
Only Grandfather remained where I had ordered him to stay.
Blood from Sergei’s body continued to spread slowly across the marble floor.
The metallic scent lingered in the air.
Yarina stood a few steps behind me, pale but composed, her eyes moving between me and the old man.
I looked directly at my grandfather.
“It’s true,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm. “You have a bargaining chip.”
I took a slow step closer until only the shattered table separated us.
“I honor my grandmother too much to let what she built fall into the wrong hands. So yes. I’ll need your signature.”
A faint smile crossed my lips.
“Congratulations. You’ve managed to buy yourself a little more time.”
I tilted my head. “Perhaps two years. That is, of course, assuming my lawyers fail to find a loophole in that will.”
I held his gaze.
“And if they do find one... Your signature becomes worthless. But let’s indulge your optimism. Let’s assume they don’t. What do you think happens when those two years are over?”
My voice dropped to a whisper.
“You die the same way the rest of them are about to.”
My eyes hardened.
“The only difference is...”
“I’ll have twenty-four more months to decide exactly how much pain I want you to endure before I put a bullet in your skull.”
I straightened.
“But there is another way you can make yourself useful.”
My expression remained unreadable.
“Tell me where Sarah is buried.”
For the first time since I’d walked into Flynn Manor...
My voice almost broke.
“I’ve spent ten years without a place to mourn my little sister.”
Grandfather Flynn never looked away. “Even if you peeled the flesh from my bones... I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Not under torture. Not if death were staring me in the face. I’ll never reveal where Sarah is buried.”
My jaw tightened until pain shot through it.
He knew.
The old bastard knew exactly what that grave meant to me.
And he was using it as another weapon.
A slow breath escaped me.
I could torture him.
I had men capable of making even the strongest beg for death.
But he was old.
Old men rarely survived prolonged torture.
Sometimes they died before they broke.
“Romeo...”
His voice softened, as though appealing to reason.
“Show mercy.”
A bitter smile crept onto his face.
“Ten years ago, we could have arranged for the judge to sentence you to death.”
“We had the influence. The money. The connections. We chose life instead.”