Chapter Forty-Three #2
Fucking with him is too easy. Fun. “Why does she hate me so much? Surely, it’s not just because of my penchant for pushing the boundaries.
In the grand scheme of things, my petty misdemeanors should be, at most, a nuisance to this organization.
Putting me on the Kill List? That felt…disproportional.
But, at the same time, it didn’t surprise me, because she always made it clear she had it out for me. Why is that?”
Pavlov sets his fork down and leans back. “Look at you, asking all the right questions.” He stares back at me for a beat. “You’re right. It has nothing to do with whatever nonsense you get up to in your domain. Her disdain for you is personal.”
Knew it. “Personal how?”
“You exist,” he answers simply. “Consider yourself…not quite a pawn, but an asset of war.”
I’m confused. “How so?”
“Soraya’s been extremely attached to me since birth,” he says.
“There wasn’t much I could do without taking her along, or she’d become a relentlessly shrieking nightmare for her mom or the sitters.
Which meant she spent a lot of time on my lap in board rooms, urgent meetings, and high-level briefings.
Listening with rapt attention, as if she actually understood what was being discussed.
“This carried throughout her entire childhood. Meetings with her at my side became standard. But even when she got to the age where she did understand everything, she never asked questions. Never showed real interest in anything. Until Torin folded you in.”
He pauses to take a drink of Perrier. “Suddenly, she’s asking questions about Vegas.
About its new king. She was fifteen at the time, so I didn’t think much of it.
You were new, and already pushing boundaries—the type no one wanted to manage.
No one wanted to administrate your detail.
Soraya, however, was very interested. And it gave me the perfect opportunity to get her more involved, so I assigned her Vegas Operations. ”
“Wait…” I sit forward. “She’s been in charge of me all this time?”
“For a while.” He takes another drink of his sparkling water. “It took me some time to recognize her obsessive interest in you for what it really was. Her mother, though…she saw it instantly. And purposely didn’t cue me in.”
“Because that’s when she started seeing me as a pawn,” I deduce. “The ‘war’ is between JB and Soraya, isn’t it?”
Pavlov tips his head in confirmation. “You catch on fast.”
“Am I allowed to ask what the war is about?”
He doesn’t answer directly. “How much did she tell you about her brother?”
“Just that he hated her. And kept trying to kill her.”
He nods, then prefaces, “From here on, I’ll be referring to my wife as ‘JB’. She’s the love of my life. My entire fucking universe. But during this patch in our marriage, I didn’t like my wife.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” He continues, “We tried to keep them apart as much as possible.
But Sevyn saw his sister as his toy, something to hurt for his own amusement.
Knowing his condition, JB showed bias, leniency, and excessive attentiveness toward him.
Even when Soraya was the one left hurt or bleeding.
Sevyn was skilled at manipulating JB, twisting situations to make her blame Soraya for not being more ‘understanding’ of his psychopathy.
“The constant blaming and neglect toward Soraya created a rift in their relationship. One that was slowly turning into a chasm. This created a clear divide in our family. She backed Sevyn. I backed Soraya. Dysfunctional, but still, we managed.”
With a long pause, he looks up at the artificial sky. “On her sixteenth birthday, something went down with her and Sevyn. It’s her story to tell. But the incident ended with Soraya rendering Sevyn paralyzed from the waist down.”
He briefly presses the pads of his thumbs to his eyes. “Blinded by rage and grief, instead of comforting Soraya, JB punished her. And whatever thread of intrinsic mother-daughter bond Soraya might have had left for JB, it snapped. Burned to ashes.
“By the time JB came to her senses, started seeing things clearly without Sevyn’s lies and emotional manipulation clouding her…it was too late. Her relationship with Soraya was irreparable.”
He sighs, as if the weight of that damage is just as burdensome on him now as it was then.
“JB tried to make things right, but Soraya made it clear they were sworn enemies. I won’t get into all the moves Soraya made to instigate the war with JB, but just know that things have been…
violently dysfunctional between them ever since.
And because you are the only person besides me that Soraya’s shown attachment toward, JB took over Vegas Operations.
And has been using you against her ever since. ”
He pauses to take another slow sip of Perrier.
This is clearly difficult for him to rehash.
“You ended up on the Kill List because Soraya did something recently that JB saw as unforgivable. That prompted Soraya to go dark with her team. And when the assassin sent to kill you turned up dead, we knew it was her.”
“Well, damn.” While I was eager and ready to die, this girl who I didn’t even know existed wasn’t ready for me to cease existing.
“JB knew that would keep happening as long as Soraya was off-grid. Because if there’s anyone who knows how to evade and defeat THE O.
..it’s Soraya.” He runs his fingers back through his graying hair.
“But JB wouldn’t accept defeat, so she changed the game.
Decided if she couldn’t kill you, she would toy with you instead.
When Soraya became detectable again, in your villa—that was her way of accepting JB’s new terms. Agreeing to the amended punishment.
And planting her flag on where she stood. With you.”
Allowing it all to sink in, I sit back, eyes drifting to the hyper-realistic view of rolling green hills. Soraya knew me. Knew me. All this time. Everything about me. Everyone around me.
And all those sweet early years of me running wild in THE O, taking every advantage they had to offer, she was in charge.
In hindsight, I can pinpoint precisely when JB took over—when she contacted me that first and only time over video to threaten me with death. After that, every little line I toed warranted a dire warning or a consequence. All this time it wasn’t even for shit I did do.
After leaving me a few minutes to process, Pavlov asks, “How does knowing this make you feel?”
I shift my attention back to him. “What?”
“Knowing all this. Knowing Soraya’s been obsessed with you since she was fifteen,” he clarifies. “How does it make you feel?”
The game’s never on pause. “Feel? Like a K-pop idol. Would love it more if you told me she had pictures of me on her bedroom wall.”
“She did,” he confirms.
I fist pump.
He scowls, unamused.
“What? Were you hoping it would creep me out?” I ask. “I’m a Gemini, narcissistic by default. Praise and adoration keep my skin healthy.”
Shaking his head, he picks up his fork and mutters under his breath, “You truly are an incorrigible pain in the ass.”
“I do wonder, though…” I lean slightly forward. “Why are you being so…forthcoming about personal family matters? This is the kind of ugly dysfunction that people go the extra mile to keep secret.”
He levels me a look. “If I asked you nicely to go back home and forget you ever met my daughter, would you do it?”
“No.”
“Neither will Soraya,” he says, heavy with resignation. “And I can’t kill you without risking a lot with her. Outside of being my daughter, she’s vital to this organization. My wife and I might not be thrilled with it, but you’ve proved us wrong and found your unrelenting ass here.
“Being ‘forthcoming’ with you is about making sure you fully understand what you’re walking into with Soraya and JB. When those two clash, it’s like two tornadoes colliding. Everyone around them gets sucked into the vortex of their mayhem. People die. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I scratch my scruffy jaw, take a beat. “How do you handle it? Being caught between wife and daughter.”
His answering laugh is full-throated. “You think I’m going to give you tips? It took me years to find any kind of balance between them. You’ll have to figure it out on your own, son.”
“From ‘speck’ to ‘son’?” I tip my head. “Not bad.”
“Listen to me.” The lightness vanishes as his tone sharpens.
“Soraya Byrd is sworn in to succeed as Chief should anything happen to either of us.
We knew it would be her even before Sevyn was paralyzed.
When he was out torturing animals and shooting birds out of the sky, she was consuming knowledge like water, taking every lesson and every training opportunity there was.
“She learns at an impossible speed and operates like fast-growing, far-reaching roots in soil, always searching for more mental nourishment and stimulation. You cannot even begin to imagine what that girl’s capable of.”
He pauses to hold my gaze, as if to make sure I’m following.
“One day, she will be JB, and you will be me. Byrd is the name that matters, that carries the power. Understand that if you continue, she’ll never be a Castello, but you will be a Byrd.
This is your last chance to go back home, son.
Because once you step into this ring, it’s sealed.
There’s no getting out. That retirement plan you’ve got—the private island off the Atlantic, the grandiose villa you’re building there?
Yeah…that life won’t happen if you choose her. ”
My answering chuckle is dry. Lifeless. “Damn, Pops, you’re really working hard to scare me off, huh?
” I look away, then back. “I’m not sitting here with unhealed ribs, a busted nose, and a bruised body just for the fuck of it.
Before I began searching for her, I put all my affairs in order.
Every lead I chased, I did it prepared to walk into a trap and breathe my last.
“I knew whoever she turned out to be, it would either be the death of me, or the greatest experience of my life. I’ve been prepared to accept her, all of her, no matter what her story was. And even now, hearing it all, nothing’s changed. I want it all with her.”
Pavlov’s nostrils flare with clear displeasure.
Damn. This man does not want me as his son-in-law. Tough luck. Because I’m not backing off.
“Sir,” a voice says from behind.
Pavlov’s irritated glare shifts to the right, then he nods. A mask member appears at the table in seconds.
“What is it?” Pavlov asks.
When the man hesitates, clearly on account of my presence, Pavlov waves a hand, impatient. “He’s fine. Speak.”
“Derra-5 was just attacked.”
“Ah, for Pete’s sake.” Pavlov shoves to his feet. “How does she know where he is? We just moved him.”
“Sevyn remains unharmed,” the man assures him. “For now.”
Pavlov picks up his phone and flicks urgent eyes at me. “Tell me something that’s just between you and Soraya?”
“What?” I frown. “Why? What’s going on?”
“She thinks you’re dead, and now she’s going after her brother for revenge,” he grits out. “Tell me. A phrase, a word, an object. Something.”
“Why not just let me talk to her on the phone?”
“Because she’s fucking Soraya. She’ll figure out where you are in seconds.” He’s clearly annoyed that he’s having to explain himself. “Come on. Quickly.”
“Will a voice message from me do?”
“Sure, fine, whatever.” He taps around on his phone. “Okay, go.”
“I’ll bring your prinsesst?rta soon, my pretty little liar. Promise.”
Pavlov throws me a resentful glare, then hurries off with the masked man.
A smile starts to tug at the corners of my mouth, little by little, until I’m full-on grinning. All of a sudden, I’m starving.
I stuff my mouth full of fresh fruits, buttery croissants, and tasty cold cuts. I fucking hate breakfast. But man, breakfast has never tasted so damn good.
I’m in love with a woman who would wage war for me.
For half my life, I’ve been dubbed a “king.”
But this…
This is the first time I’ve ever felt like one.
And I can’t wait to hold my queen.
~
SOME TIME LATER, while the staff clears the table, Mask Dude appears and takes me on another head-tripping trek. Door to door, hall to hall, until we’re in a stark white space with a single hunter-green Hummer parked inside, engine running.
When my escort opens the passenger door, Pavlov’s waiting in the back seat, attention fixed on his tablet.
I hop in. “Do I get to see my woman now?”
He flicks me a glance. “You will. But not how you think.”
Enough with the fucking games already… “What does that mean?”
He sets down his tablet. “I’m always in Soraya’s corner.
Always on her side. Yet she didn’t trust that I wouldn’t kill the only other person she loves.
And that fucking cuts. “ His tone is flat, but there’s a sharpness under it.
“She’s shown that she’s willing to go to war with us, for you.
And I’m still not convinced you’re worth it.
So, there will be consequences for what she did today. ”
All this fucking family drama. I just want to see my girl. “What kind of consequences?”
“You’ll know soon. For now...” He pats a black pouch sitting between us. “Open it. Put it on.”
I unzip the pouch. A VR headset and earphones. “The fuck is this about?”
“Watch a movie. Play a game. Listen to some classical music. Or read some poetries—heard you like that stuff. I don’t care.”
A chuckle falls from me. “What happened to good old-fashioned blindfolds?”
“Old-fashioned is old-fashioned for a reason.” He locks his gaze to mine. “Put. Them. On.”
Yeah...judging by the murderous look he’s giving me, he’s in no mood for my bullshit. And I might’ve been willing to die yesterday, but not today. Not when I’m so close to seeing her again.
Like a good little lad, I put on the damn headset.