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“You know I have your back, Jer. I’ll look into everything and see what I can come up with. I’ll chat with the West twins and see what they have to say about her inheritance. And I can look into Sunshine, too.”
We quickly say our goodbyes, and the silence takes over, settling on my chest and pushing down.
Everything she said runs through my mind. I don’t understand how we’ve missed this vital piece of information. Where’s the money that belongs to Journey? And why doesn’t she have it in a bank account?
I grunt, throwing my glass across the room, and revel when it shatters, sprinkling the floor with glittering confetti. Something stinks, and it’s coming directly from my damn father. If this is going the way I think it is, Journey is only around because she’s worth money. Lots and lots of cold hard cash. But where does the wedding play into that? Why me?
Fuck.
Sleep gnaws at the back of my eyes, but there’s no way I could calm myself down now. Not even reading the letters could take my mind off the news. So, I lock my desk, knowing my Little Chaos will search for them high and low. There’s no way I can let that happen. I have to have some sort of leverage over her. And those are a good starting point until she tells me every little thing living inside her skull.
Waltzing over to my shelf, I take out the one thing that calms my nerves. I run my fingers over the four strings strung tightly, pull it out, and set my chin on the chin rest. I cradle the violin as I pluck the bow from the case.
I blow out a breath as I delicately draw the bow across the strings. Every muscle in my body melts, relieving me of the stress of the day. Just as a beautiful melody emerges, filling the air with the emotions I’ve bottled deep inside.
My fingers dance on the fingerboard, producing notes that soar and dip, weaving a hauntingly beautiful, heavenly sound to my ears.
When I’m here, with this in my hands, I’m free from the torment my father reigned down. I’m free from my role. I'm no longer the heir to the kingdom. I'm me. Jericho Viotto, violin savant, playing until his fingers bleed across the strings.
The minutes tick by, second by second, leading into hours full of playing and swaying. Sweat beads at my brow and breaths pour from my nostrils.
Everything lifts off my chest and shoulders, making the future brighter.
I’ll find my answers. I’ll…
I shift on my heel, turning toward the open door just as a shadow backs away. Curly brown hair catches my attention.
I grin. “Hello, Little Chaos. You can come in.” Gently, I set my violin down into its case and finger the bow, running my finger through the coarse, horse hair.
I swallow hard when the door opens, showing her pale face and wide eyes. Like a ghost, she glides into the room.
“You play so beautifully,” she murmurs, eyeing the instrument.
Something in her expression catches me off guard, stopping my movements. It's open without defiance. Her walls have been blasted through.
“It sounds like you're complimenting me,” I hum, staring down at her bare wrist devoid of the cuff I left her in.
How curious. She's wandering the halls without the very thing I put on her to keep her still. It's something she'll pay for. Very soon.
She swallows hard, eyes turning glossy with an unknown emotion shining through. “It was you,” she breathes out, her words barely audible like she was talking to herself more so than me. Memories seem to take over her mind and pull her back into a past that she refuses to share with me.
One day, I’ll pry them out of her anyway I know how.
My brows furrow when she steps forward, brushing her fingers against the violin, smudging the beautiful dark wood with her fingerprints.
The world seems to stand still as I inspect her movements, lightly running her chipped nails over the wood repeatedly. Her mind is gone. Not reacting to me. I’m not here. She’s not here. Until she abruptly turns to me with a blank expression, hiding everything away.
“It was you,” she says again, swallowing hard.
I narrow my eyes, keeping the bow between my fingers to keep from grabbing her up. “What was me?”
“The music,” she says, looking away to the violin again.
“Yes, indeed, it was me. Who else do you see?” I look around the empty room with furrowed brows.
“Of course,” she says, straightening her shoulders. “I was just going to the bathroom and…”
“There's a bathroom attached to our bedroom,” I hum, stepping up to her and putting the bow under her chin. Her eyes lift to mine, reflecting nothing back.
