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I suddenly realized what was going on.
My eyes narrowed. “You were planning to leave,” I said slowly. “You thought since we were safe here, you’d get to be some kind of hero and kill off your father and Nathan.” Augustus’s face twisted in confusion, and before he could say something, I stepped in front of Atticus, blocking him from view. My whisper was full of exasperation as I spoke. “You can’t do this alone.”
Atticus’s voice rumbled like thunder as he addressed us. “Like hell I can’t. What’s the use of risking all of your lives? This is my problem, my father to deal with. As long as he is alive, Christine is in danger.”
I shook my head in disbelief; the thought of him leaving felt like a betrayal. “We don’t have to go back. We could go anywhere,” I offered, hoping for a different outcome than the one that seemed inevitable.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Augustus blurted. His eyes were wide with anxiety, but his expression ultimately betrayed some sort of hope. “How can you even think about leaving us? I’m with Leo—let’s pack up and go.”
Atticus clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, trying his best to contain his tears. He shook his head. “With the little amount of money Hudson gave me, where would we even go? We need more than what I have.”
I fixed my gaze on him. “I have money. I have a savings account that I’ve been putting aside just in case.”
“And then what?”
Augustus spoke up, his voice soft yet stern. “Then we figure it the fuck out.”
Atticus shook his head. “It’s not enough.”
“Are you scared?” I asked.
A hint of color stained Atticus’s cheeks as he jutted out his chin in defiance. He adamantly shook his head, his voice trembling with rage and resignation. “No. I’m not scared.”
I swallowed hard, my heart clenching in sadness. “Then what is it?”
“You don’t get it! I bled for that empire. Killed, stole, and broke bones for the DuPont name. I grew his fortune. I made everyone in Aldrich fear the DuPonts.”
The scars on his body were a testament to his loyalty to the DuPont empire. There was no denying the carnage he inflicted on behalf of the name, the lives he stole and the bones he broke.
My own heart ached with the emotion that contorted his face. “So it’s not about Christine?” I choked out, tears threatening to fall.
He screamed in agony and fought against his restraints. “Of course it’s about Christine! Everything I’ve ever fucking done has been for her. Taking over the DuPonts was supposed to give her security, protection, a damned luxurious life!” His eyes turned feral as he leaned closer to me, and I could almost feel his warmth despite the air between us.
“She doesn’t need everything,” I muttered. “She needs you.”
He shook his head. “I’m not enough, Leo. Can’t you see? It’s not enough.”
My heart sank at his words. Wasn’t this what I had been feeling all this time? Our differences in wealth and position were now invisible. With all the bullshit removed, we were simply three men, each driven by our love for Christine. She held us in her grasp, and we would have given up anything for her.
Atticus sat, quiet and still. His entire being seemed to be enslaved by the heavy burden he was carrying. His DuPont lineage was his family legacy, but it was also his way of providing a life for Christine that he believed she deserved—even if it meant his own life. His eyes were filled with desperation and fear of losing her.
I spoke determinedly, refusing to be intimidated by him. “It’s not about the money for her,” I firmly declared.
He scoffed, his lips curled in a sneer, “You think I don’t know that?” He slumped in the chair and closed his eyes, perhaps trying to escape the harsh reality of his words. “Christine has never been moved by material possessions, but the fact still rattles me. If I am not a DuPont, what can I give her? What could she possibly want from me?”
Augustus slumped into the creaky chair and ran his fingers through his locks, shaking his head in shame.
“Hell, I’m not even a king anymore,” he muttered. “I’m just a bastard with nothing.”
The weight of Augustus’s words felt like a boulder on my chest. I sighed heavily through my nose, adding to the oppressive silence of the room.
“And I’m just a royal guard with not even two thousand dollars to his name,” I whispered, pushing back the tears that were threatening to spill down my cheeks.
The air seemed to thicken around us with despair as we stared into the void of our own broken dreams.
Christine stormed into the kitchen like a whirlwind, her blonde hair wet from her shower. We all held our breaths as her eyes narrowed on Augustus. In a second, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him toward her like a rag doll, her grip strong and her body thrumming with rage.
“Do you think I care if you’re a fucking king?!” she hissed, bringing her nose to his. He gulped thickly, and she snarled in response.
