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“There’s a meeting in a few minutes. Drake said I should remind you that you have to be there,” he tells me. I know about the meeting. My father is handing over the reins to Drake and me.
“I’ll be there,” I offer, my eyes still glued to the window where the night has consumed the light, and all I can see is the mist and fog that’s appeared over the trees. Our home is nestled in the forest, with only a large silver-top lake behind it. There’s nobody for miles, and that’s why my father can do what he does.
The money he forks out allows him to continue the sick games. That’s all they are. Vile fucking games. My brother and I have been shoved into the darkness with no way out. No fucking glimmer of hope, so that’s why I’ve become accustomed to walking through the halls of the Savage Mansion like a soulless, mindless drone.
“I’m sorry, you know,” River says then, shocking me enough to make me turn my head toward him. My eyes land on his expensive suit. It’s tailored to his broad frame. The ink that adorns his skin is hidden, but I know it’s there. Beneath the material lies beautiful, intricate patterns. The same artwork I’ve traced with my tongue while he jerked me off all over his toned stomach.
“I know.” I nod, offering him a glimpse of a smile. Nothing more. That’s all I can give because that’s all that lies within me.
“I’ll see you down there.” He turns and leaves me in the library while I take a deep breath, attempting to ready myself for the words that will soon fall from my father’s lips.
It’s all yours, sons. Make me proud.
Or some shit like that.
Malcolm Savage is a ruthless, cold-hearted murderer. There’s no doubt about what my father is. And he expects nothing less from his two boys, twins, born to a woman who died while pushing us out of her body. Not even my mother could love us enough to stick around.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I rise and head to the closet. Pulling on a pair of black slacks, I grab a white button-up and shrug it on. The cool material does nothing to calm the heat running through me.
When my phone vibrates on the wooden nightstand, I know it’s time to finally finish this fucked-up game. Every moment that passes brings me closer to being free. And that’s my plan. To be far away from this place.
Sauntering over to pick up the device, I unlock it with my thumbprint and smile at the words. Drake is ready. So is Caia and River.
They’ll never see this coming. They’ll never see me coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DRAKE
Opening my eyes, I find myself in the familiar space of my bedroom. Caia’s body is draped over mine as if we’d fallen asleep last night. But when I glance at the window that overlooks the back garden, I notice the sky is black.
Something’s wrong. Very fucking wrong. Lifting my girl’s arm, I place it on the mattress and get up. I feel as if I’ve been drugged. My head is foggy, and memories from last night — or is it tonight? — are jumbled around in my mind.
The bedroom door opens, and one of our security team strolls in. He offers a nod. “Dante says that dinner will be served in an hour.”
“What?” Confusion settles in my thoughts.
“There’s a dinner that’s been set out. You, Caia, and River are to attend.”
Shaking my head, I’m about to ask him what he means, but he leaves, closing the door before I can get the words out. My body aches everywhere, but there aren’t bruises on my arms when I glance down.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, which has me moving quickly to retrieve it. It’s lit up with a message from Dante.
They have Amoretto?
Why the fuck did my brother not wake me?
When my bedroom door swings open again, I glance over my shoulder to find River sauntering in. He’s dressed in a pair of dark jeans. The turtleneck he’s wearing is black, which only makes the green of his eyes pop from his tanned skin.
“We’re apparently wanted for dinner,” he offers, settling beside Caia on the bed, which causes her to open her eyes.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I question, staring at my best friend who shakes his head.
“No, I’m as clueless as you.”
“What happened?” My girl scoots up against the headboard, her gaze darting between River and me.
“We’ve been brought home. I don’t remember much after we left the house,” I tell her. I’m not sure what happened, but nothing feels broken, just achy, so it couldn’t have been an accident. “Get up. We need to figure out what’s going on.”
My brother has never wanted to get involved in my revenge plan. He offered his assistance but didn’t show much interest when it came to taking down the assholes I was so adamant in killing.
