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“Are you jealous?” I bite out, confusion sizzling wildly in my chest.
River laughs, the sound almost melodic when he does. There’s something he’s not saying, and I know it’s the fact that he’s in love with his best friend. Green orbs trap me in a gaze so piercing I hold my breath for a moment.
“Caia, if I were jealous, I’d have ended you already. The thing is, I know you want him, and yes, he does want you as well. The way I see it, sweetheart, everything is better in threes,” he tells me with a cocky wink, turning to walk away, but I grab his arm to halt his steps.
“Then accept me,” I say. Right now, I know River is my only way to get Drake, his brother, and him out of here. To find the family they’ve lost, and to figure out how to end the monsters we all face.
“Are you sure you want this, Caia? Because once I agree, we will be bound by our promise.” A dark brow arches at me in question.
“I do,” I affirm with a nod. “You, Dante, and Drake have been in here for far too long. It’s time to set yourselves free.” This time my voice is a rushed whisper. “And your sister, we’ll heal her somehow.”
River nods once. Tugging his arm free, he smiles and turns his back to me. I follow behind him as he heads out of his bedroom, and I know we’re going to Drake. The plush carpet muffling our steps as we make our way down toward mahogany double doors. I know what’s on the other side. The room where I lost my virginity. It’s not the first time River is leading me here, and I know it won’t be the last.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DRAKE
When the doors open and both River and Caia step inside, I offer them a smile. Thankfully, my best friend seems calmer than he did earlier.
“We need to talk,” River says, settling on the antique leather sofa. Caia strolls over toward me, seating herself on the stool against the bar counter where I’m standing. I wait for River to start his demands. He’ll want to know about his mother, his sister who we have in one of the cells downstairs. I don’t know if he’s been down there to talk to her, or try to at least, but if he has, he doesn’t mention it.
“We do need to talk. There are things that I’ve kept from both you and Dante, and I think it’s time we reveal the secrets that Malcolm kept.”
He nods, watching me as I pour us all a drink. Setting his down on the table, I straighten and take a seat in the wingback chair that faces the door. Dante will be home soon, and I don’t want him walking in on our conversation.
It’s late. I can’t deal with both River and my brother, and after the night we’ve had, all I want is a shower and to sleep between Caia and River.
“Why did my mother leave me here? I want to know everything. Is she alive?”
“When Malcolm died, I found records, contracts between him and a lot of people I don’t know. But there was one folder with your mother’s name on it. When I opened it, there was a photo of you and her along with the agreement that she relinquishes all custody to Malcolm.”
“But why would a mother do that?” Caia questions. Joining us, she settles beside River.
“To be honest, she was a power-hungry bitch.” I shrug, not caring if it was my best friend’s mother. It’s the truth. And I’m not afraid to say it. “She’d asked my father to ensure her seat on the White House cabinet was confirmed, but when that didn’t happen, she threatened to expose Savage Organization. That’s when my father requested the gift of her daughter.”
“But when I came here, I was young. I don’t even remember Rayne being able to walk at that stage.”
I nod at River’s comment. “Yes, you came here at the age of ten. Rayne was about two-years-old, I think. At least that’s what the paperwork says. She offered up her baby girl to Malcolm Savage for a CEO seat within the Organization, which she’s currently running in Thailand. She left the US years ago,” I tell him. Gulping down the drink, I set the empty glass on the table. I pull out a pack of cigarettes and light one before continuing. “I don’t know if she’s alive or not. She must’ve heard about Malcolm’s death, because she’s disappeared.”
“So, my mother is a monster, just like the rest of them,” River utters with so much sadness in his voice it grips my chest in a fierce hold.
“River, I—”
“No, it’s fine,” he says. Rising from the sofa, he stalks to the bar, refilling the glass I’d given him with a triple shot of whiskey. The amber liquid sloshes around the crystal as he swirls it. “I’ve lived with enough of this fucked-up shit in my life to know that having hope is pointless.”
