Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“You’re going to hurt yourself, Son.”
I grit my teeth and force my body to relax. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m strapped to the bed. Whatever fucked-up stuff you’re allowing is hurting me.”
We share a weighted look. We’ve been here before. Back to the beginning of our relationship. When he adopted me and became my guardian. I’d accused him of much worse back then, but eventually understood it was in my best interest to get along with him and play his games so I could find Calista.
All these years—twelve long years—I’ve gone toe to toe with my father and the entire corrupt fleet of elites in an effort to get to my sister. It feels like it’s all been for nothing. I’ve lost my stronghold and am spinning out of control.
Dad pulls up a chair and sits beside my bed. He studies me with an intent, probing stare. “You were so close, Son. So close to getting what you wanted.”
Calista.
It’s what I’ve always wanted.
And he’s right. I was on the way to finding her until Romy showed up, wrecking everything.
“Your first misstep was your disloyalty to our family,” he states, frowning. “What you did…” He scrubs a palm over his face and shakes his head. “How could you and then lie to my face?”
I keep my expression even, refusing to give him anything.
“Gareth.” He pauses to let the name sink in. “I know you killed him.”
Guilt races in, chasing away my anger. Being in this weak position where I’m at my dad’s mercy, I’m reminded of being a teenage boy who’s in trouble. Not that I’m going to confess to it or anything. I still have a sliver of regret, though, because Gareth was a member of our fucked-up family.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I bite out. “He got drunk and fell. End of story.”
Dad pulls out his phone, messes with it for a second, and then holds it up for me to see. A security video, strategically placed to show the balcony of my room on the yacht, reveals a man who is obviously me hauling Gareth’s massive form to the railing. I watch as I struggle to get him upright. Without any hesitation, I toss him overboard, only staring for a moment into the water below before turning back.
I should have known Solomon would have that place crawling with cameras. He’s a sick fuck, but he’s also smart. What else did he uncover? Romy hiding in his office? Gareth raping Romy?
“I know, deep down inside of you, there’s an aching soul, Son.” He turns the video off and pockets his phone. “Why can’t you just ask for what you want? Why not truly join this family instead of playing these games all alone inside your head? I had such hope in your mental recovery, Caius.”
“Right,” I hiss, spittle flying his way. “I’ve always been a soldier for your empire, never family.”
“Untrue,” he says, shaking his head. “I saved you from that facility. Brought you into my home. Gave you siblings, a home, a life. And yet you always kept me at a distance, never fully trusting me.”
“You knew how much I wanted to find her, but you wouldn’t just go get her,” I accuse, voice turning ragged. “You told me you’d teach me. It was a mindfuck from the get-go, Orion.”
He flinches at hearing his name rather than Dad. “You want the girl so badly? Ask me to give her to you.”
It’s a trick.
I know it is.
Which girl?
Calista? Romy? Kaitlyn?
“Give her back to me,” I grit out. “There. I said it.”
“Who?” He smirks, knowing he’s forcing my hand. “Who are you asking for?”
I know her name slipped out on numerous occasions. He knows I want my sister, but he’s not stupid. He knows I want Romy too. I’m tired of these games. They never end.
“Calista,” I growl, giving him the name he clearly wants. “And Romy.”
Based on his growing smile, I know I’ve played right into his hand.
“Son, you’ve created quite a conundrum here. One of those is choosing the Crownes and finally aligning yourself with your father.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “The other is, well, the enemy.”
Enemy?
When I’d seen Dad and Gideon together last, they were very much on the same team. Romy is the enemy to him because it means I’m making my own decisions and no longer playing by his rules.
“Romy is not the enemy,” I mutter. “She’s my fiancée.”
At this, Dad snorts. “We both know that’s a bullshit farce.”
“You’re fucking with my head. I’m sick of it.”
He pats my hand as though to comfort me. I don’t want him to touch me.
“The rest of your life, Son, depends on what happens when we leave this room.”
I close my eyes and think of Romy. Beautiful and fiery in spirit. My chest aches at the idea of having her in my arms again.