Chapter 19: A Leech and a Whore

DARIUS

I sent the guards on their way.

No one could find out about my father and uncle’s sick games.

Knowing how they planned to corner this girl until she broke felt kind of pathetic.

This hallway was long, covered by a thick carpet.

I could count the times I’d stepped into this part of the wing, and none of them were fond memories.

I glanced at the endless array of pictures hanging on the walls, a creepy collection from an artist my father adored.

I’m sure he paid good money for this curated work.

Each frame held a portrait of the same woman.

I stopped near a thick wooden door and slowly opened it to Edmund’s private studio, not the one my mother and family knew about.

The room had an impressive garden view, and the event was on full display.

The music was muffled by the walls of the manor.

If Olivia screamed, no one would listen.

She wasn’t screaming, though.

No, Olivia stood underneath the library’s wooden stairs, reading one of my father’s first-edition books, holding it in her tiny hands with no gloves.

My father sat behind his desk silently.

His old hands were pressed together, and his sharp eyes were focused on her.

Two of his fingers were pressed to his lips pensively.

This couldn’t be more eerie.

He was the kind of person you wanted to please, and Olivia seemed to be the chosen lamb of the night.

“I figured you were going to do that,” Luther grumbled, bringing her back to the present moment, and she closed the book carefully, placing it where it belonged.

Edmund cleared his throat.

They were ready to begin.

He waved his hand at a chair, inviting her to sit.

“We have a proposal for you,” he said.

Intimidated, Olivia sat in front of him.

Her eyes flashed to the baroque-style painting hanging on the wall behind him.

It was dark and dramatic, with the same woman from the hallway, this time naked and defenseless, hurt.

A dagger punctured her stomach while the assassin kissed her on the lips.

It meant everyone who stepped into my father’s studio was meant to live that same fate.

I smiled when Olivia found the masterpiece.

She too would soon be bare and stabbed.

“Miss Summer, you are a smart girl,” Luther began.

His eyes fixed on the peacock brooch on her left breast.

Edmund gave a nod and Luther placed a blank check on the desk in front of her.

He laid a thick black pen beside it.

She was good at hiding how intimidated she felt, but I noticed the shakiness of her hands on her lap, and her eyes grew wide when she saw the check.

She wouldn’t last a minute more; I was sure of it.

“I don’t understand,” she said, baffled.

~What’s worse than a leech and a whore? One that pretends not to be either.~

I chuckled and opened the door a little more to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“We are giving you the choice of starting again,” my uncle explained.

“You must be desperate,” Olivia said clearly.

They all remained silent.

The tension was palpable.

This long pause was driving me mad.

~Come on, Olivia. You and your sister can take the money and go, just like everybody else.~

Finally Luther spoke.

“You and your sister have lived a life of real struggle, Miss Summer. I encourage you to think about it. This could solve your problems. You will never have to work again,” he said.

“We don’t need your money,” she mumbled nervously.

“Yes, you do,” Luther shot back.

“Your sister will listen to you,” Edmund put in, pressing his fingers together as if to bring reason.

My eyes darted to her delicate frame.

So breakable, yet her lips remained pressed together while her eyes moved quickly between the two men, assessing them.

“I’m not going to tell you where to shove your check.” She spoke with such fire, and her back remained straight even though she seemed to struggle with her breath.

She was scared.

“But you can probably guess where,” she finished.

~You little bold thing.~

My father slammed his hand on the desk, losing his temper.

No one ever said no to him.

Not even me.

“You can’t spoil my fun, child.” Edmund’s charming tone didn’t match the veins pulsing on his forehead. “Please reconsider. By tomorrow, you can have everything you have ever wished for.”

I narrowed my eyes.

~What is it that you want, Olivia?~

She sat back in the chair.

God, she was tiny.

“Tell us your price?” Luther pressed.

She didn’t answer.

She was bending the rubber band to its breaking point by declining their offer.

Was she protecting her sister’s honor?

I laughed.

If only she knew that meant nothing to us.

It amazed me that she continued to act as if she had some integrity, being too good to touch the money that we all knew they needed badly.

Especially her.

No, she was not this innocent.

No one could be this good.

I couldn’t stay to watch.

This was it, the moment the real threats were about to start, and things would turn really ugly.

The thought of Luther’s intentions sent a chill down my spine, maybe because I knew how this game worked.

How it always ended.

~Brace yourself, Olivia.~

I sighed, stepping backward, my hand holding the doorknob an inch away from closing.

“Don’t you care about the baby?” my father asked.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Whose baby were they threatening?

“Your sister is pregnant, Miss Summer, and that child will never be a Rothschild,” Luther growled.

~Shit, brother.~ I breathed in, assimilating the information.

My hand grasped the doorknob with such force it left my knuckles white.

~Don’t you get tired of screwing everything up, Alexander?~

“Isn’t that up to your son?” Olivia asked.

“I will decide what is best for Alexander.” Edmund smiled softly and stood, leaning over the desk. “And that is both of you disappearing.”

Her eyes opened wide as the threat sank in.

I couldn’t reconcile what I felt as I watched how they planned to clean up Alexander’s mess, but a part of me understood them.

I was ruthless because of them.

This was my brother’s child, a possible nephew or niece.

~Possibly.~ A DNA test would be needed before assuming any of this.

Yet, in that moment my father and uncle felt threatened by what could be an heir to my grandmother’s shares.

“Let her think,” Luther whispered, standing behind his brother, both staring at their caged animal.

Tiny.

Defenseless.

Silent.

I’d thought I would enjoy watching her in distress, but a sudden urge to protect her arose in me.

I fought it.

I needed to listen carefully and calculate the risks.

I had to figure out each piece of this puzzle before making a decision.

“Seventy-eight thousand, nine hundred and eighty dollars, and twenty-six cents. A token of trust and appreciation for your discretion until you make up your mind,” Luther said.

He reached into the desk and pulled out another check. “You have until tomorrow, Miss Summer, to think things through.”

She stood. “No. I’m able to pay my own loan.”

My father blinked, annoyed. This was not going the way they expected.

I had to give it to her. If this was still an act, and she was playing full hands to raise the bid for her sister, well… ~Bravo.~

Luther laughed, walking toward her. “So. How much more is it? The jewel is off-limits, of course.”

“I don’t want this fucking bird,” she hissed.

“I would advise you to be careful, girl.” Luther continued to stalk toward her, and she stepped backward. “You never know when an accident can happen.”

Olivia gasped as her leg hit the corner of the chair.

She fell to the floor, holding her knee, shaking.

Luther hovered over her. “You see, Miss Summer, I’m always right.”

~Sick bastard.~

He grasped her shoulder, and fierce, cold anger pulsed through my body—anger against my own blood.

I ground my teeth, considering…

He wouldn’t dare touch her. Would he?

~Enough.~

“I think that’s enough,” I said through my teeth, barely processing what I was saying.

I watched my father and uncle exchange a look. Edmund spoke first.

“Son.” He raised his eyebrows.

Even now, he was giving me a cue to control myself, inviting me to play the game like them.

My muscles were jumping as I stepped up behind Olivia.

To say I was ready to hurt them was an understatement. My icy eyes were evidence enough.

I breathed in.

I could control this raw, unfiltered rage.

“Olivia and Sarah are under my protection,” I informed him, forcing my body to relax.