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“It’s time for you to decide how you end this, little bird,” Drake murmurs in my ear. Dante places a hand on my shoulder. When I glance up at both men, I take in their similarities up close. Dante hands me a weapon — a sleek, silver blade with a handle carved from wood. The ridges dig into my hand when I grip it.
“It’s your birthday today, sweet Caia.” Dante smiles. “Your gifts await you.” His voice is almost ethereal, along with his handsome face. I take in his angular jaw and the dimples I’m sure have my sister in their grip, as well as his full, pink lips, the mischievous grin, and the way flames dance in his eyes. As handsome as Dante is, my heart belongs to his brother.
Turning my attention to Drake, I smile at how rugged he looks beside me. A slight dusting of stubble darkens his jaw. He only has one dimple in the right cheek when he smiles. There’s a softness to him, even in this darkness. He offers affection I know Dante doesn’t hold. And that makes me wonder how the brother who went through the worst of it can still care so much.
That’s when my eyes land on another man. River. He’s watching me intently, and I know he’s worried. I can see it in his expression. The quiet one of the three, he offers solace in his silence.
With a touch, glance, or smile, he can diffuse a situation. But I know his heart holds more than that. It overflows with love. For Dante, for me, and most importantly, for Drake. And just as I figured, he gives me a smirk along with a nod.
It’s time for me to say goodbye to my past and move on. It’s time for my father to pay for what he’s done. Harper steps up beside me. She’s holding a knife similar to the one in my hand.
“It’s time, sister,” she whispers, and we make our way toward the table. The man who we grew up calling Daddy is shivering and shaking his head as if pleading for mercy. But there’s none left. He made sure of that when he took our lives into his hands and toyed with us like pawns in a much larger game.
Leaning in, I whisper in his ear, “This is for all the years I’ve lost.” Pressing the tip of the blade at his ear, I push it into the opening, watching and reveling in the way the sharp steel slices through the wrinkled flesh.
Blood spurts from the wound I inflict, staining my hand in crimson as I shove it in deeper. Cutting into the man who allowed me to lose all my innocence, I trail the object down his right cheek toward the corner of his mouth.
I can’t help laughing when the tape falls away from his lips and he pleads with me. Begging for his life. For me to think about what I’m doing.
“Did you think, Daddy?” Harper mimics my action while taunting our father with her words. “Did you think when you pinned me to the bed? When I cried, and you told me it was best for me?” Her words echo the pain my chest. I wasn’t there to save her, but when I see my sister now, I know she’s her own heroine. She’s strong. She’s a warrior. She’s a survivor.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DRAKE
I don’t think there’s anything hotter than seeing Caia drenched in blood. Her father is dead. He’s bleeding out in our dining room, but I don’t care. The only thing I want and need is my girl. I want to go to her, but she’s with Harper, so I allow her time to be with her sister.
Dante leans in and whispers, “You know, this was one of the best dinner parties we’ve had in this house.”
“How did you do all this?” I question, not tearing my eyes away from the woman I love. I know Dante is somewhat of a loose cannon, but this is something else. The fact that he forgives me for not telling him the truth about our mother being alive is a miracle in itself, but what he did for Caia and Harper confirms that my brother can love.
“There were many times over the years you saved me,” he tells me. “But as much as you think you were the one who kept me from the shit that you had been through, I experienced some of the same, Drake.”
Snapping my gaze to his, I find the hurt in his eyes. Being the older brother made me believe I was meant to be stronger. And perhaps in a way I was, but I realize that by trying to save my brother, I was only hurting him more.
“I felt your pain all these years.” His confession causes my chest to tighten with anxiety, with fear that he hates me. “I saw it every time you looked at me, and this time, I wanted to be the one to save you. To show you I’m all grown up now, brother,” he smirks.
