Page 94 of Exile
When Byrone called me to inform us that Avery was spotted heading downstairs solo, I admit I did make the wrong decision. I should have known that she wouldn't be doing that, but in the moment, all I felt was the unwavering need to protect her and simultaneously scold her for being stupid. I panicked. We should have checked Christopher's office, but they led us to believe he was leaving the facility in a rush. I had no reason to doubt Byrone, nor did it occur to me that it was a trap. All I knew was I had to get to her before it was too late.
I stupidly thought that with an investigation underway, no one would dare step out of line. After all, appearances matter. But I overestimated Alexander Dale. For once,heoverreacted. Instead of doing the smart thing and lying low until the authorities did their checks, he let his emotions get the better of him—knowing we've got him right where we want him. And in turn, I was foolish to expect him to be sensible.
And now… he wants to take away the only other person I've ever loved. Just like he did Mom.
Guards had immediately swarmed us downstairs, but we knew they were coming. Barely downstairs for longer than a few minutes and Connor had alerted us to what was really happening. Still, it took a bit of time to deal with them all. Grey and Theo handled most of it, giving me the opportunity to head straight here. I knew this is where I would find my father. And as soon as I realized what was going down, I anticipated this moment, stealing Connor's gun.
Even though I was prepared to find Avery in some kind of trouble, I'm still having difficulty keeping my control in check, watching as he threatens her life. It's taking all of my willpower to remain focused, to not let my emotions get the better of me. One wrong move and Avery is as good as dead.
"I'm disappointed in you as well, Father," I tell him casually. "It's unlike you to make stupid decisions. I guess we both feel deceived in that regard."
He scowls at me, anger washing over my entire body as his hand grasps Avery painfully, her face contorting as she soundlessly tries to hide the fact she's hurting.
"We're at a crossroads," Father points out. "What are you going to choose, Damon? Your wife or your so-called self-proclaimed legacy?"
"It's remarkable that you assume I only have one option," I say coolly. "But rest assured, I intend to fulfil my promise today. You've just sweetened the motivation that much more. Even if you did try to sneak in that board member's son."
Cocking his eyebrow, he laughs sinisterly. "That boy was nothing but a failure. But I think you have forgotten one key factor, Damon."
"Enlighten me."
"Once I end Avery's life, I become her sole beneficiary. If you attempt to harm me, you'll never leave this place. My estate documents ensure that you'll never receive anything, nor will you be able to gain any power with the board. Legally, you'll forfeit any position of power you have, and you'll be transferred to prison for the rest of your life. Everyone you care about in here will remain under Arthur's supervision, and I promise you—they will wish they were dead when we're through with them. This investigation will blow over and your efforts will have been for nothing."
Avery's lips twitch, capturing my attention. Her eyes relax, almost as if she's internally laughing. For a moment, I admit I'm perplexed—questioning her mental health inthis moment. My father still has the tip of his gun pressed into her head, yet she doesn't seem fazed at all now.
On cue, he notices that my attention is elsewhere, and despite my best efforts to hide the suspicion from my face, he correctly deduces that Avery has done something. Her poker face isn't as perfected as ours, and I nearly snap and break when he grabs her chin, aggressively twisting her face toward him.
"What are you doing?" he growls at her.
I take a step forward, gun trained on him but Avery just laughs out loud. Every sensation in my physique is heightened as danger grows, my finger resting against the trigger, ready to pull it at any moment.
"You're wrong," she tells him amused. "How does it feel?"
"What are you talking about?" he demands loudly.
Her eyes dart over to me before returning to his. "You're not my beneficiary," she answers calmly—too settled for the tension in the room.
An eerie silence drifts over the room while everyone attempts to process her words. My father changes positions, shoving the barrel under her chin with quick precision.
"You signed the Will," he snarls.
"I did," she agrees, smoothly lifting an eyebrow. "But you failed to realize one simple thing…"
"Spit it out."
Avery smiles, eyes dancing with unhinged delight. "You failed to realize that I could just sign…another one."
There's about a three second delay as her words sink in before utter chaos breaks out. My father's face flushes bright red with rage while my chest expands with pride.
She created another obstacle. Another barrier to block him. All by herself.
Her death would give me the power to bring him down, unless he was able to kill both of us before we retaliated.
Which we all know there's no chance of that. She sacrificed herself, destroyed part of his plan, making it worthless.
It's as if everything moves in slow motion; his body tensing, finger twitching against the trigger. That near perfect control breaks as his emotions overpower him—embarrassment, failure. Everything he hates.
I have only a fraction of a second to react, knowing what's coming if I don't move quickly.
