Page 123 of Lucian

“I still had two years,” Lucian insisted.

“At the first dinner … when Jordyn met Kate for the first time.”

“What about it?”

Antony rubbed at his forehead. “What did she ask you?”

Lucian had to bite his tongue to keep from focusing on the rage spilling into his gut. “She wanted to know if Jordyn was my principessa.”

“You said yes,” Paulie assumed.

“Not exactly.”

“You didn’t deny it,” Antony said, sighing.

“No,” Lucian confessed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Antony tapped a pen to the desk, the seriousness of his expression turning into one of fatigue. “That was about the same time she requested money from Cecelia for something she claimed to want to be involved in overseas. Investment, or some nonsense. The accounts the money was wired to have nothing to do with Kate, and I can almost guarantee it’ll lead back to Christophe.”

Sickness rolled through Lucian’s insides like a wrecking ball. “She used my mother to get to me?”

“Cecelia didn’t know.”

“I don’t doubt that!”

“Calm down,” Antony murmured. “I know you’re angry—”

“I’m downright enraged,” Lucian spat. “That spiteful fucking bitch … Is she going to get away with this, too? My whole life has been nothing but taking the hits of her abuse to keep the peace. I’m not doing that anymore.”

“No, she’s not,” his father answered. “I’ve already made the call. By morning, it’ll be done. It’ll look like a suicide, I imagine, but they never do think to look for an injection site in the scalp.”

“Helpless and terrified,” Paulie continued for Antony, almost smirking. “It’s a terrible concoction of medications. Used separately, the drugs won’t do much. Together, they become deadly and burn out of the blood too fast to be identified, but what is left to detect gives off the impression of suicide. The victim is frozen, unable to move, speak, or breathe. But they can see and hear. So, while they slowly suffocate to death because their lungs won’t function, they get to be very aware of their upcoming demise. It’s perfect and awful at the same time. It looks like an overdose. A bottle of empty pills on the bedside table and everything appears just as it should.”

Lucian froze. He should be the one to end that woman after all she did to him. “What? If … Why not me?”

Antony tipped his chin downwards. “She’s a woman, and while I know she’s done you incredibly wrong, son, she is still your mother’s sister. Can you look Cecelia in the eye tomorrow after you’ve killed her blood? I did once, but it wasn’t easy. Despite how your mother despised her father, she was still his daughter. I spent years at her mercy apologizing for that and rightfully so, as the selfish need for me to feel retribution only left her in pain. Could you do the same?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“And you’re a much better man than me,” Antony said, smiling sadly. “So I’ll answer what you deflected. No, you couldn’t. Go find your sweetheart, Lucian, and remember to sleep without worry. You’ve waited so long for her already. Why wait more?”

• • •

“What are you doing?”

The raspy, hoarse voice coming from only feet behind Jordyn made her jump. She nearly fell off the stool she was using to pull the shoe boxes down from the walk-in closet top shelf. Jordyn eyed Lucian from the side, trying to decide if she wanted to kick him from her spot for scaring her, or jump off the stool and kiss him. The terribly raw looking marks around his throat had tears prickling at the backs of her eyes, but she refused to cry.

“You sound awful.”

“I feel awful,” Lucian muttered, shooting a look up at the ceiling. “Cecelia keeps following me around and trying to make me drink tea. I hate tea.”

“It might help,” Jordyn suggested.

“Yeah, and so will the pills I just choked back. I’m not drinking tea.”

Jordyn huffed, already annoyed at his stubbornness. “Did you go to the hospital?”

“I refused medical treatment. I’m fine.”