Page 3 of Making the King

My lips part and I want to hurl insults at him, yet no words come to mind. I can only stand there, gaping, as he pulls out his phone and shows the screen to my dad.

“There you go, Carlos. Cara no longer belongs to you.”

For some reason, those words hit me, making me feel lighter. I no longer belong to the man who’s put me and my sister through hell while doting on our brother. Where I resemble our bitch mom, Mateo’s the spitting image of our dad—and just as vile and cruel as him.

But now… I’m free. From my dad, at least. And soon, if everything goes according to plan, from my husband as well.

“So we’re all good?” Rochus asks, arching an eyebrow.

Dad takes his phone out of his pocket and taps on the screen. “Yep,” he confirms with a nod. “The bitch is yours. Pleasure doing business with you, Rochus and Cain.”

Rochus pulls me to his side and throws his arm around my shoulder. “Do you want to say goodbye to your family?” he asks.

“Yes,” I snap, sarcastically. “There’s nothing I want more than a tear-filled goodbye with the people who just fucking sold me. Estúpido.” I didn’t mean to voice the Spanish insult, but I don’t regret it.

“I want to say goodbye to my daughter,” my mom cries out.

Bitch even sounds like she means it.

“Let’s go,” I say to Rochus, completely ignoring her.

“No, Cara. Please. I want to hug you one last time.”

I remain unmoved by her words. It’s too little and much too fucking late.

“We should get going,” Cain says, staring pointedly at the door he entered through. “Like, right fucking now.” He adds the last part so low only me and Rochus can hear him.

Rochus nods and rushes me toward the exit. I can barely keep up with him, almost stumbling in the stupid high heels I was forced to wear.

As soon as we’re outside, we come face-to-face with a group of masked strangers. Each one of them is wearing black from head to toe, the only thing standing out is the red diamond on their shoulders.

“Ready?” one of the men asks, and when Rochus nods, the stranger waves the others ahead.

“What’s going on?” I ask, but I don’t get an answer.

Without another word, the masked strangers, including my new husband, storm the church. It only takes seconds before gunshots ring out, and despite my mantra of staying strong, I lean against the church with my heart in my chest.

Who the hell are these people? And more importantly, why am I staying out here? I don’t care if they’re slaughtering my family, only that I’m left behind.

Resolutely, I sneak back inside, ignoring the men calling out for me to leave. I flip a few of them off, but other than that, I keep my focus ahead. Luckily for me, their attention is on the scene unfolding in front of them.

My dad’s kneeling at the altar, and his right-hand man lies lifeless next to him. I knew Henry was lurking around somewhere. Years of being my dad’s daughter have taught me that he never goes anywhere without his backup.

“Please,” my dad begs, pathetically holding his hands up like in a prayer. “W-whatever you want.”

Hearing my dad beg like this has excitement coursing through me as I move closer until I’m next to Rochus,

“You,” my dad spits, no longer pleading for his life. “You did this, you useless cunt.”

“Careful,” Rochus warns. “You did this to yourself.”

He kicks my dad square in the chest, sending him into the blood surrounding Henry’s body.

“I want to kill him,” I announce, my voice steady and devoid of all emotion.

“W-what?” Rochus asks, eyeing me like he isn’t sure he heard me correctly.

“He’s my fucking dad, and I want to be the one to end his miserable existence,” I say, hating that I have to repeat myself.

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