Chapter 12 Sebastian
Sebastian
Seven Years Ago
As I pulled through the gates and onto the drive, my eyes locked onto my dad’s car. Tight knots formed in my stomach.
Fucking great. This asshole was home.
I think the last time I’d seen him was at Granddad’s funeral, and even then, he left straight after without saying a word.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said, turning to look at Hayden in the passenger seat.
“I’ll give you five, if you’re lucky.” He chuckled to himself.
“You’re not even funny, do you know that?”
“Yet you always laugh at my jokes.”
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the car.
The bitterly cold air pierced my lungs. I glanced up at the night sky; the moon was exceptionally bright for London.
Normally, the city would cast a shadow over it.
Taking a deep breath, I started walking towards the door, the stones crunching beneath my feet.
I made my way through the house, praying to avoid my father. I crept past his office, trying not to make a sound.
“Sebastian,” Dad called.
I let out a heavy breath, my shoulders slumping. “Yes, Dad.”
“Get in here.”
Fuck. I didn’t have time for his shit.
My dad sat on one of the brown leather sofas in his office—the kind you’d find in an old manor house.
His oak desk, not far away, was neat, with a single paper file on it.
The bookshelves were meticulously organised, with some books even older than me.
I was surprised they weren’t collecting dust by now.
He sat there, his eyes fixed on the crystal glass of brandy. “Sit down.”
I sat on the sofa opposite, resting my hands on my thighs, waiting for what he was going to come out with. I watched as he swirled the brandy a few more times before taking a sip, then his eyes met mine.
“There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
That sentence never ended well with him. There was never a discussion, only him telling me what was going to happen.
“I’ve met someone.”
I screwed my face at him. “You what?”
“She’s a wonderful woman. I think you’ll like her.”
I sat there, trying to process what he was saying.
“I’ve arranged for us all to go out to dinner. Then, I will set a date for the wedding.”
I half choked. He was getting married for the third time? I’d have thought he was joking, but I’d never known my dad to crack a smile, let alone a joke.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked.
“Deadly.”
I rubbed my face and stood. “Well, if that’s all—”
He cut me off. “Sit. Down.”
I let out a heavy breath and did as I was told. “What do you want me to say? Congratulations?”
“Don’t use that tone with me, boy.” His eyes pierced deep into my soul.
“What do you want from me, Dad?”
“You will attend the dinner next week and meet your stepsister.”
I snorted. “Stepsister? Don’t you think I’m a bit old for siblings?”
This man had no parental bone in his body. The fact that he was marrying a woman with a daughter was beyond me.
“She’s sixteen. I’m sure you’ll cope.”
Great. A teenager in the house.
“I’m busy next week.”
He downed the rest of his brandy and slammed the glass on the table. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
My jaw clenched, the acid swirling in my stomach. “So you now want to pretend this is a happy family home, for the sake of your new wife?”
His face hardened. “You’ve always been a disappointment to me. Unable to do as you were told. I knew I shouldn’t have let your mother keep you.”
I’d heard these cold words my whole life growing up. It was nothing new, yet they still somehow managed to cut deep.
“How long will this one last until you get bored? Or better yet, until she realises what an asshole you truly are.”
He rose, hurling the glass at the wall behind me, shards flying everywhere. I sat there, unfazed.
He stepped forward, leaning down, pointing in my face. “You listen to me, boy. I gave you the best education and life money could buy.” His face turned red with each word he spat out. “And all you’ve done is throw it back in my face.”
I clenched my fists, trying to bury that rage that had festered for years.
All I ever wanted from him growing up was his approval. For him to tell me he loved me. To act like a dad should with his son.
Yet all I ever got from him was abuse.
I stood, matching his height. “Don’t expect me at that dinner.”
Before I had a chance to step away, he’d grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “I haven’t finished.”
Fucking asshole.
“You’d better not do that in front of your new wife,” I mocked. “Is that how you’re going to treat your new stepdaughter when she doesn’t listen?”
“Get the fuck out of my house, Sebastian.”
Fucking piece of shit. If this man thought he’d be able to treat her like this, I’d fucking kill him. He could do what he wanted to me, but a woman, a girl? Never in this lifetime would I allow that.
“Gladly, Dad,” I said, smiling at him.
I cracked my knuckles as I made my way out of his office. My mind flickered to my granddad, and pain ran through my chest. He hadn’t long passed away. He was such a kind man, and I never knew how my dad was his son. They were the complete opposite.
When I reached the car, I slid in and put my seatbelt on.
“I thought you needed to get some bits?” Hayden asked.
I looked over at him, and he clearly noticed my expression.
“You good, man?” he asked.
No. I wasn’t good.
Pretty sure I was broken.
I’d had that all my life, and I’m pretty sure that was what led me to underground fighting and the Organisation. Something to try and help with all this chaos that frantically ran around inside me.
“Yeah, I’m good.”