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For the rest of the night, I sat in the control room watching security footage. I saw every move my little rabbit made from where she appeared at the mansion like a scaredy-cat to how she slowly gained courage.
There was no footage of when I ravaged her for dinner since I made sure to take her where there are no cameras. If any of the guards had seen her naked or witnessed her erotic face, they’d be conducting a rant meeting with their maker as we speak.
Am I too possessive? Yes. Even I recognize that, due to the fact that I didn’t give a fuck about my sexual partners before.
But I realized something.
It’s not only about sex with Glyndon. I have a feeling that I’ll still feel the need to own her long after she spreads her legs.
During my observational session, I checked that her invitation to the Heathens’ initiation was indeed sent from our servers.
No trace of hacking or underhanded methods.
Jeremy couldn’t care less about these details and leaves them to his security. Nikolai is more detached, unless there’s a fighter he wants to challenge.
The most likely culprit is none other than my brother. Who escorted Glyndon out like some fucking knight.
If I confront him about it, he’ll just deny it. So I’ll search for proof and hit him upside the head with it. Logically, he has no reason to get her involved—except to antagonize me.
The thing is, Gareth is a good boy and dislikes using people.
Then, there’s the whole arrow incident that I still can’t find an explanation for. Whoever tried to shoot me did it from an impossible angle where they couldn’t be caught on camera.
It’s someone who’s well aware of the workings of our internal systems.
Someone…close.
After a whole night of watching footage and obsessing over my phone like a teenager, I finally came down the stairs.
Once I kick away Nikolai’s fuck buddies, I continue on my way. I step on something black—someone—pause, then poke at it with my foot. Did a murder happen while I was sleeping—or trying to?
What type of blasphemy is that? I demand a redo.
I nudge the figure for a good minute before he rolls to his back with a groan, revealing none other than my deranged cousin.
His hands are still covered with dry blood—that will be a bitch to remove—and his face is stuck in a frown, like a whore dreaming about a boring fuck.
I kick him again. “There are beds around, you know.”
“Fuck off, you motherfucking fuck,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t sound sleepy, more like thoughtful. “Did I bother you sleeping on my own damn floor? Let me think in peace.”
I nudge him again, just to fuck with him. “Since when do you use the word think? Have you hit your head somewhere? Let me take you to the hospital for a quick scan, maybe see if you actually have a brain while we’re at it.”
He groans loudly and sits up with the lethargy of an immortal monster. He opens his bloodshot eyes that are surrounded by dark circles. Someone had a night. “Fuck off before I murder you and hug Aunt Reina at your funeral while she cries over her useless son.”
“What got your panties in a twist, Niko? Bad fuck night?”
“More like an absence of fucks night.”
“Really?” I tilt my head in the three passed-out druggies’ direction. “You literally have infinite options. What’s wrong? Erectile dysfunction?”
He snarls at me.
“Fuck. It is?”
“Fuck off, Satan’s heir. It’s called lack of interest.”
“It’s called impotence. Our poor Niko. Should I get you some blue pills? Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.”
