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“It certainly leaves much to be desired,” I noted on my way towards the stairs.
“Which one do you want?” Elias asked, following behind me.
“I’ll handle Lucielle. You two find Samuel. If he isn’t in bed, he’s off drinking his life away.”
The soles of my shoes lightly padded along the marble floor.
Retrieving my gun from my waistband, I tightened the silencer before slipping into Lucille’s bedroom.
It was just as sterile as the rest of the house—more like a hospital than a home. It was almost fitting.
She was dressed in a pink, nearly translucent moo-moo, her dark hair pulled back into a bun. If anything, I could sleep well knowing Elena’s beauty wouldn’t be fading anytime soon, which I felt was a lucky break considering she was a byproduct of incest.
I watched the rise and fall of her chest for a few silent moments and approached the side of the bed. Pressing the cool end of the barrel beneath her chin, I lightly tapped her cheek.
Her eyes flew open, a few Spanish expletives immediately slipping out when she saw who was in her bedroom. “Sneaking into a lady’s bedroom? How far you’ve sunk,” she snipped, trying to be brave in the face of the boogey-man.
“Lucielle, we both know you’re not a lady. You’re a miserable old bitch. Now get the fuck up.”
I stepped back and waved her out of bed with the gun.
She shoved her comforter down and slowly stood up. Her arms crossed over her chest in an effort to hide her dark nipples.
“Stop the theatrics, Lucy; I didn’t come here to fall into that cesspool between your legs. I can feel my dick burning from here.”
She straightened defensively, jutting out her chin. “I’m sick of seeing your face. You look like the devil.”
“That’s an interesting comparison considering who you’re related to.”
“Why are you here? You have what you want, and when Ri—” she caught herself, “When Ace—”
“Are you still using that nickname for your own flesh and blood?” I quirked a brow.
“Well, I suppose since you decided a little inbreeding wouldn’t hurt anyone, that has a different meaning for you than it does me.”
“You’re a bastard,” she seethed.
“Ouch, how you wound me. And after all I’ve done for you…which brings me to why I’m back in this shithole. The only reason you have toilet paper to wipe your ass is thanks to me. The only reason this big estate has power and running water is because of me.”
She opened her mouth to speak. I held a hand up to silence her when a door slammed from out front. Making my way to the window, I peeked out and grinned at the white hospice van.
I turned back around and put a bullet in the door, barely missing Lucille’s wrist. She jumped back, hand flying to her throat.
“That was stupid. You know I’d love to see you on the floor asphyxiating on your own blood. You’re lucky Elena exists; she was the only reason I extended a morsel of generosity to you and that sloppy drunk of a bum you have for a son.”
“Was?” Her dark eyes slanted inward as she honed in on my choice of words, panic beginning to take hold. Not for her granddaughter, but herself.
“Do you know what happens when dogs bite the hand that feeds them?” I asked, hearing the front door open and close. “They get put down,” I answered just as the men appeared in the doorway, greeting me with respectable head nods.
“What is this? What have you done now?” she bellowed as she was restrained.
“I’m just carrying out the threat you stupidly placed on the table. I had a friend who knew a friend, and turns out, Springbrooks is always open for new residents.”
“No! No, you can’t do this!” she screamed at me as my intentions became clear.
Her continued resistance and refusal to comply resulted in her body being forced to the ground.
“Get off me!” Her arms thrashed as she tried to fight off the completely unfazed personnel. They couldn’t care less about her; they were on an old money payroll.
