Page 48 of Iron Crown

“Now you know the last of my secrets, sweet Muse,” he said quietly. “My counsel has been the same man used by Eugenio Durante. I have kept Morelli with me these past years. He is the man who has prevented the loss of my sanity in your absence.”

“Three years,” I gasped.

“Yes.” He shut his eyes.

“The rumors about the painting in the foyer are true.” It was a statement, not a question.

Was I appalled? Yes. Of course, I was. How could I not be? But how I judged him would have to depend on seeing it all for myself.

I couldn’t comprehend it. It just didn’t make any sense to me. I needed to see all of this with my own eyes! I needed to understandexactlywhat had happened within the Green mansion while I was away.

But that would have to wait for a better time. Cosima would not surrender. More blood would be spilled.

Chapter thirteen

All My Secrets

Eoghan

With a heavy heart, we returned to the Vasiliev mansion, with its gothic spires and pine trees. It was a fitting sight for my dark mood. The way forward was clear before me, but I was unwilling to walk that path.

I had made my final gambit. My last-ditch effort to stop the war before it began.

But everything had unfolded as Morelli had predicted. I should have just believed him, but for my own conscience, I needed to try one last time. I owed that to him. I owed it to myself as well.

I am not a good man, but that did not stop me from trying to be worthy of the woman by my side.

Though, the more we rode in silence after my confession, the more I knew it was fruitless.

I had taken Morelli three years ago, and she had seen me torture him. I would never be unblemished in her eyes. I could see it now in the distant hurt in her eyes. She was distracted. Even as she held my hand, she felt a million miles away.

She knew that I painted with his blood and kept him imprisoned. God, what a monster I was. Simply saying it out loud made my stomach turn with revulsion. What a beast I was!

God knows what she thought of me.

I wanted to scream that Morelli was happy in a room full of books. I wanted to tell her that I treated him well, he was cared for, fed, and clothed. I wanted to defend myself and tell her that he had a pet mouse called Algernon who dined on the finest French cheeses that I brought down with his meals!

But, at the same time, I did not want to defend myself at all.

What I had done was indefensible.

If she saw the worst in me, then all the better for her, and for our son.

If she saw the worst, it was because she saw the truth.

After I slaughtered the same man who had become my friend, then I would truly be destined for hell, and anyone who still graced my inner sanctum would be taken down with me. They’dbe tainted with my bloody darkness, as I was stained by my father’s cruelty.

When Vasiliev’s castle came into view, I made up my mind. I would do the right thing, and release my wife from her ties to me, and give her the life she deserved. Whether that was as my widow or through a separation, it would not matter.

I had given up my humanity long ago. Perhaps saving Yuliya Vasiliev was the last time I had truly been human.

Kira did not deserve to have her soul wither the way Cosima’s had.

She deserved the gentle things in life, the tenderness that comes from a life of luxury. So did my son. They would never have that with a patriarch who had the last nameGreen.

“Go call Dairo,” I told Kira as we approached the Vasiliev home. “They’ll be waiting for a video from you. I’m sure Cillian wants to see his Mum.”

I sat in Jericho Vasiliev’s massive, and frankly, off-putting office. Everything was ornately carved, baroque, like it came from a different world. The Russian had eclectic tastes, that was for sure.

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