Page 89 of Firethorne
Lost in immeasurable grief for my father and the realisation that I’d never get the closure I needed. That I’d never see him again. I knew visions of his final hours would haunt me forever. That, and the sickening image of him in that tree.
Why was there so much evil in this world?
Tears streamed down my face, and my body ached, wracked with the sobs I couldn’t hold in anymore. Losing him would always be an unbearable darkness, a weight that I’d feel inside my heart for the rest of my life.
And then there was Damien.
My warrior, my saviour.
It was all so unfair.
So fucking cruel.
We hadn’t even had the chance to live. To get to know each other on a deeper level that I knew we would’ve, given the chance. Because he was just like me, a reader, a thinker, adreamer. Fate had put someone so perfect in front of me, given me a glimpse of what happiness looked like, then cruelly ripped him away.
Actually, it wasn’t fate that’d taken him. It was his bastard father. And I’d use my dying breath to make sure he paid for what he’d done.
When we reached Firethorne Manor, I was bundled out of the back of the van and carried into the house.
Beresford stalked up the stairs with me slung over his shoulder, veering towards Firethorne’s office when he got to the second floor.
Once inside, he threw me down at Firethorne’s feet, slamming me onto the ground without care. I hissed from the pain, curling myself into a ball, and then squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to look at them, these men that disgusted me, but when I heard a female voice, my eyes shot open.
“Why did you bring her back here?” Miriam sneered, wrinkling her nose as she stared down at me. “She doesn’t belong here.”
Miriam stood in front of the roaring fireplace, and next to her, with his head down, was Lysander.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Firethorne snapped. “But I brought her here because she owes this family a debt, and tonight, she’s going to pay.”
“Make her pay how? She doesn’t have any money,” Miriam scolded. “Look at her. She’s a mess.”
I wanted to rip the cable ties from my wrists and pounce on her like a tiger, with my claws ready to gouge her eyes out. She stood over me as if she was superior, when she was the worst kind of woman. A woman who stands by and lets the men around her hurt other women. Maybe she didn’t know the full extent of Firethorne’s business, but she wasn’t innocent. She wouldn’t do a damn thing to help me tonight.
And neither would Lysander.
He couldn’t even look at me.
“There are other ways to pay a debt, you know that all too well, Miriam,” Firethorne sneered. “And we don’t need more money.”
“Everyone needs more money,” Miriam purred. “And the amount we’ll get when she’s moved on to her new owner will be payment enough.”
My stomach rolled.
She knew.
That bitch fucking knew.
“Debts are about more than money,” Firethorne snapped. “She tried to double-cross us. She needs to learn that actions have consequences. Fuck with a Firethorne, and they fuck you harder.” He smiled at that last part, making my blood run cold.
And still, Lysander remained silent.
He had to know, too.
He had to have been a part of all this.
I wanted to scream at him. Ask him if he had anything to say after deceiving and betraying me the way he had. But I knew, even if I could speak to call him out, he wouldn’t say anything. He really was as vapid as I thought he was when I first met him, only he was worse. He was spiteful and vindictive, too. Totally and utterly shameless. He had to be implicit in what his father was doing, because he was just standing there, not doing a thing to help me. He couldn’t care less.
“Shall we get things started?” Firethorne asked, leaning across his desk to pick up a knife. But he put it back down when his son spoke up.
