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She doesn’t go in, but I can see the temptation in her eyes now. It’s a rule she’s not supposed to break, but this little princess is a rebel. It’s just a matter of time before she walks into that lion’s den.
And I’ll be waiting.
And watching.
And the beast will devour her.
Chapter13
PHOENIX
And just like that,nothing and everything changed.
All at once.
Alice was set free in the house, warned that trying to leave would cost her, and then she gave herself over to James. I know why—it doesn’t take a genius to understand Kane’s plans for it all.
Had Ariel been given leave to do what he wanted with her that night in the bath, Alice might have lost all hope for herself. Kane wants her compliant and willing. He wants her to be primed to fall in love with each and every one of us because she’s battered like us—broken like us. She put herself together just like we all did, with jagged corners and lethal edges.
She just learned how to hide it better than we did.
I don’t love the invasion of my home by this Romano, but for now, I can almost entirely avoid her. Except when she sings in the shower, entirely off-key and barely audible under the water. Or when she hums to herself when she dresses, then stalks by my library at least once a day because someone—likely Ari—tempted her with the books inside.
It’s been just over a week since she was released from the basement, and no one’s told her a thing, so I know she’s terrified. I can hear it in the subtle tremble in her voice in the morning after long, lonely nights. She knows we have plans for her. She just can’t figure out what they are.
It would drive me mad too.
James sympathizes with her, I think, because he, too, suffered the basement shortly after being brought to the manor. I will always love him for the freedom he tried to give me, but I loved Kane too much to stand up for him, and I let him suffer.
It might be why he’s so attached to her—our precious little Alice with the Sword of Damocles hanging over her head. He knows that if Kane decides to cut the rope, there’s nothing he can do to stop it.
Weallknow this.
But Alice is growing on me here in this space, as much as it pisses me off.
And it’s only a matter of time before she crosses one of my lines.
Kane’s been avoiding me for the better part of three days now, and I know it’s because I’ll demand answers from him the moment he finally shows his face in my quarters. I’ve never been the kind of man who deals well without knowing the exact plan, but I also know he refuses to make a decision until we have her DNA results back.
I’m not even sure it’ll matter anymore if we find out whether or not she’s Romano’s biological daughter, but for Kane, it’s the principle of the matter. I expected results sooner, but tracking down Romano’s DNA was harder than I anticipated. I had to call in a favor from one of Kane’s associates working with the DA’s office.
Jacob Carter’s family is like American government royalty. They have their fingers in damn near every pie, and his brother works in forensics. Fortunately for us, Jacob Carter is a dirty little fucker who will do anything for the right price, so a simple wire transfer was enough to promise efficient and accurate results.
Just…not quick ones.
Eight days in and I know Kane’s ready to bust down Jacob’s door and let Ari play with him until he finds a way to speed the process along. It’s almost tempting to suggest it because the waiting is also starting to drive me a little mad.
It’s close to midnight when I finally crack and leave my room while knowing Alice is awake and restless. I verify that everyone is where they were supposed to be—either sleeping, lounging, or fucking in their beds—and I make my way over to my library. My hand touches the switch to verify that the lights are off, and then I move toward the back shelf, where I keep my prized possessions.
Before losing my sight, I was slowly collecting Latin and Greek texts. I’d studied both languages as often as I had the time to do it, and I was painstakingly learning to read it all. And then it had been ripped away from me.
Kane had seen the pain of my loss, though there was little he could do for me. He ordered each book to be transcribed in braille so I could continue my education, but learning the dot method in English was like learning to read all over again. It drove me more insane than I already was, and eventually, I just asked him for my old books back.
They’re lost to me now, but sometimes I just like to sit with them and feel the old, delicate pages between my fingers. The grief has lessened over the years as I’ve come to accept the reality of what I have—and what I’ll never have again—but sometimes I just need to let myself feel the pain.
Because my world isn’t dark. It’s absent.
There is no blackness. There is only lack of sight. James asked me once what it was like, so I turned him gently, then said, “It’s like this. If you were facing me.”
