The youngest one of us—youngest living one, anyway—didn’t speak as much as the rest of us, but he sure as shit was right here.
No, partially. I could also just let the time pass, let things float by…
What the fuck was I even saying?
“We all need to cut through the bullshit here and get to the heart of the matter.”
None of us present had spoken.
It had been Cassius.
Where the fuck had he come from?
And did we have to suddenly have a Vale family intervention right here? Right now? I always preferred these meetings one on one, or at least not when I was the one being intervened for. All I’d fucking done was spent the evening yelling at Delilah. Was that really worth Cassius apparently calling me out?
Dante and Lucas split apart to show Cassius standing there, a glass of bourbon in his hand. To my surprise, there appeared to be a hint of empathy on his face. Most outsiders would never recognize it; they’d just see the taut half-smile, half-glare that could make anyone get on their knees, either for forgiveness or promises. But I knew him well enough to see it.
But if I thought that meant Cassius would speak kindly, I was dead fucking wrong.
“Tonight has nothing to do with the Morrils,” he said. “I have already arranged for some, ahem, responses to ensure that the Morrils are aware we will not be pushed into a corner. Tonight, rather, has to do with how you feel about Delilah.”
“The fuck are you saying?” I growled. “I missed dinner with Delilah because of the Morrils. It has everything to do with them.”
“That,” Cassius said, pausing to my great discomfort, “is merely the catalyst for all this, not the root cause. I do not know the details, but I know the face and the pitiful presence. I know what you are experiencing. So allow me to tell you a truth I took more time than I care to admit to reach. Adrian. You lost Delilah not because of the Morrils, but because of yourself.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
He was…
Right.
I just wish he hadn’t put it so bluntly in front of the other two. Especially fucking Dante. Lucas, whatever. Lucas was smart and conniving, perhaps capable of seeing the value in what we had. Dante?
“I made sure we responded to the Morrils, yet still had plenty of time with Sarah tonight,” Cassius said. “You all—not just Adrian—mock me for becoming ‘weak’ with my woman. But you are all fucking fools if you believe that to be the case. Giving hertime has shown me what I must do, it provides me clarity unlike anything I have ever experienced. Adrian? You and these two spent all afternoon scheming. I know Delilah was here last night. Don’t you think after all that, she might have preferred at least a visit back over here? But no. You are not ready.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I said. “All of you! Now!”
“Come, gentlemen,” Cassius said. “And not a word. We’ve said what must be said.”
Dante appeared to protest, but Cassius’ glare shut him up. I stared back at them as they left, but it was a damn good thing they didn’t respond to me. Because what I felt then wasn’t anger, despite my shouting.
It was nothing.
I was just numb.
If Cassius had continued to taunt me, egging me on as if trying to get me to fight, I would not have had anything. I would have just stared until he left, given up, or touched me—and only then might the monster in me have come out.
But the fact that I was this desensitized, this unable to feel anything… that was unnerving.
It was, truly, my nadir.
The King of Hearts was shattering before my very eyes.
Mercifully, the three brothers left without another word, not even another look back. Left by myself, Lucas’ words started to feel kind of true. I wasn’t about todoanything too crazy or self-harming.
But the thoughts going through my mind were either insane, despairing, or a bit of both, and it was very difficult to distinguish what was what.
