Page 19 of Scent of Desire
Unable to drag my eyes away from Radcliff and being swallowed by his gloomy story, I asked, “What did you say? What did—”
“You. Tried. To. Molest. Me.”
Radcliff pronounced this sentence without an ounce of emotion, his harsh words making the flames flicker. My heart sank, and I remained like marble. He had taken my voice with him.
“That noble churchman had pictures of children and was an abuser. Obviously, no one believed the weak, scared child that I was. Well…” His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes gleaming with chaos. “Not until I made the hierophant pay by showing his true face to the light, but that’s another story.”
“Radcliff, it’s terrible… I had no idea, I—” My forehead creased, the words getting stuck in my throat. “You didn’t deserve this. No one deserves to live this. What did your parents do?”
“My father killed the ‘crows of misfortunes,’ as he called them, that I had adopted. He poisoned them. Made me watch. Then, he continued his experiments on me to erase that darkness inside me. My mother usually stepped aside. She had her own misery to take care of.”
“It’s not a curse,” I hedged, my eyebrow slanting inward, facing that ugliness. My hand curved into a fist, my nails digging down my palms. “Some flowers bloom in the dark under the moon. You were made a monster, but you’re so much more. You have a gift.”
“She said the same thing.” Radcliff cleared his throat.
“I hate your father. I wish for him to burn in hell.” I spat the words with hatred, closing my eyes firmly. “He’s horrible.”
“Oh, he got what he deserved, be assured.” A ghost of a smile spread on his lips.
“What do you mean?”
“He died.” His smile grew even more terrible and wicked. “And I can assure you, it was anything but pleasurable.”
I released the air I was holding, and the candles blew up into smoke. A fire burnt my stomach under the realization. I was on Radcliff’s side, accepting that villainous act he did. It wasn’t only a confession; it was a test of what rules he was ready to bow and which torture he could inflict.
And that didn’t bother me.
On the contrary, I understood him.
“Good,” I said, my eyes celebrating with the darkness in his own.
He raised his glass of wine in another toast.
“But why are you like that with me, then?” I gulped, wondering why he was accepting me, showing me a kindness he never did to anyone else. Couldn’t he read my darkness?
“You already know the answer deep inside of you, flower goddess.” He rose from his seat, looming toward me with all his dark aura. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
The fire inside of me built up, consuming me whole, stinging my body. “What does that mean?”
He leaned on the table a few inches from me, his whisper so close to my neck. “We were fated.”
He seized my hand, directing me to stand up. And with a caress on my cheek, he promised:
“I’ll be a monster to everyone else but never to you, Lily.”
Having an imposter at my manor wasn’t on my program.
The desire to kill him on the spot had crossed my mind. The idea of it grew more and more appealing as the minutes passed by. Consideration flickered in my eyes and disappeared at the view of Lily already in front of the gate. She was too impatient; it’d only cause her disillusion. Cerba remained at my side by the entrance, sitting like the guard dog that she was.
“And here we go.” I exhaled, stubbing my cigar out on the floor.
Cerba jerked her ears back, hearing the sound of the impostor’s car passing through the forest. Even she was confused. I took heavy steps on the grass. Cracked my knuckles. Readjusted my diamond cuffs. Snapped my gaze at the squawking ravens on the gargoyles.
My mind played tricks on me, manifesting the torture sound of a church hymn carrying on the air, contrasting with Lily’s bright smile. I inhaled the melody, my expression turning brisk and businesslike despite the fact that inside I was bitterly regretting my choice.
“Wait inside, Lily. I need to speak with your uncle first.” I couldn’t help the spasms of irritation crossing my face.
She frowned as if she had a choice. I thought she’d complain, but that little witch’s hair swayed with the wind, infusing her floral scents into the air.
