Page 91 of Cup of Lies

“You sure you want to face him alone?” Theo asks, voice low as we enter the elevator. Surprisingly, his passcode still works. “I can go with you. This is something we can do together.”

I don’t want to tell my baby brother that, no, it’s truly not. He may be helping us with this whole thing, most likely to save hisown ass or some sense of misplaced guilt, but his betrayal cut too deep. There’s no repairing it. Once this is over, I want him gone.

“I can handle the old man,” I mutter. “Just get the shit Koyn wants and get out.”

Before coming here, we raided the lab’s computers. Dad’s reign is over. I just have to make it official.

Theo gets off on the second floor and I head up to the penthouse, learning that my passcode still works as well. If he didn’t want us here, he’d have changed them. With each lingering second, anxiety buzzes through my veins like I’m being electrocuted. I worry I’m walking into a trap.

I touch the Glock over my shirt that’s holstered in my belt. I’ve gone from being a suit-wearing, arrogant prick to some sort of quasi-biker outlaw who prefers jeans and work boots. At least Romy seems to like my new style.

Dad would be so disappointed.

The lobby area of his penthouse is quiet, clean, and empty of people. Typically, he has staff in the background cleaning or cooking. They’re suspiciously absent.

He’s ready for me.

I’m sure the second we set foot in the lab, he was alerted. He knows I’m coming for him. We’ve been successfully taking out all the people in his shitty world. He’s the last one who matters.

Will I kill him?

Can I kill him?

These are things I uttered aloud in the dead of night, needing Romy to help me understand and work through them.

She doesn’t want me to.

Not because she cares for him. Quite the opposite. She’s worried about what it’ll do to me.

Maybe he deserves jail time like her family. Knowing him, though, he’ll find a way to psyop the whole damn prison and run his operation from behind bars.

Nah, this has to end tonight.

My boots thud softly on the marble floors as I make my way down a hallway of his. I don’t ever go into his bedroom, but I do now. It’s sparsely decorated aside from a few framed pictures. The one on his dresser is of the four of us. Me, face emotionless as I stare at the camera, Dad’s usual smirk, Theo’s naivety shining in his eyes, and Gareth’s charming grin.

What secrets lurk beneath each of those men…

I remember taking that picture. It was before Romy, before Kaitlyn, before Emma. Just the four of us. Life was almost simple back then when I was playing by Dad’s rules and doing his bidding.

How many lives did I ruin for the sake of CUP and my father?

Too many.

Guilt is an ugly beast who rears its head often. Especially when I think about my girls or LuLu. I could have told my father no or put him in his place whenever he did his fucked-up shit. Instead, I played along, biding my time, all the while hoping to find Calista, morals be damned.

He manipulated you. Fucked with your mind. You weren’t you, Caius.

Romy is better than any therapist. She gives it to me straight. Doesn’t erase what I did but reminds me I was a creation by my father and when I shed that skin, I could become the man I am today.

Father, loving partner, someone who cares about the innocent.

Where is my dad?

The bathroom is empty of the man who ruined my mind and life. It’s as if he gave us the slip. I really thought he’d face me man to man.

There’s another picture on a table by the window in his room. This one is of the two of us, the day he brought me home. Theteenager in the picture is lost, mentally broken, and so fucking sad.

He took advantage of that boy.

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