I slide my finger along the sharp edge of the steel blade, never taking my eyes off him. “Anything that I want to do to you, Olan. You will get no mercy from me, just like you gave her no mercy.”
“Son, you don’t have to do this,” he pleads, but those pleas fall on deaf ears. “We can rule together.”
“Together?” I step closer to him, tightening my grip on the knife’s handle. “Why do you think I’d want to rule anything with you?”
“You’re my son!” he yells, never averting his gaze from my knife. “If it wasn’t for me, where the hell would you be? You can’t kill me! You need me!”
I press the knife against his cheek, then pull it down and watch his skin split into two. As Olan screams, the sound reverberates in my ears, causing a dark pleasure to rise within me.
“That is a very good question,Far.”
With a chilling laugh, I trace the knife along the other side of Olan’s face, relishing the sensation of the knife slicing through his skin.
“Where do you think I would be if it wasn’t for you, Olan?” I ask, even though I don’t give a fuck about the answer.
He’s cost me so much, and he’ll die for it. Today is the last day I’ll have to worry about Olan Larsson.
Defiant as always, Olan glares at me. “Dead, just like your whore mother.”
His laugh reveals his blood-stained teeth.
Tamping down my anger, I shrug at his insulting comment about my mother. He knows she’s a sore spot for me, and he’ll say and do anything he can to get under my skin, but not today. Today, I’ll celebrate his downfall.
“Maybe I would be dead.” I shrug. “But that was your mistake, Olan. You should have killed us both when you had the chance. Instead, you wanted to make us suffer because of your lonely existence as a man.”
“Fuck you!”
“How does it feel knowing that the kid you tormented for so long will be the one to kill you?”
He lets out a laugh, but it comes out muffled and distorted due to the blood pooling in his mouth. He tries his hardest to spit it out, narrowly missing me. A glob of blood and mucus lands at my feet.
“You’ll pay for this,” he says. “As a matter of fact, there’s nothing you can do to save her now.”
Fear floods my senses, leaving me paralyzed in its grip. “What have you done?”
“I’ve ended you!” he shouts as best he can, his laughter echoing through the room. “I’m going to show you that you’re still that same little boy who will always crave my attention. And now you have it, my son. How does it feel?”
I shake my head, trying to clear the fear closing in on me. “Where is she?”
His piercing gaze locks onto me, and a victorious grin spreads across his face. “Dead.”
Torturing him is not important now. As long as he’s dead, I’m good. She’s more important than he’ll ever be.
With a loud yell, I forcefully drive the knife under his chin, plunging it through his head. I ignore the sound of his final breath escaping his lips. Watching him die isn’t as important anymore, and he no longer deserves my attention.
Arabelle’s gone.
I rush out of the room, feeling the adrenaline coursing through my veins along with pure terror and rage. Asva and Alrick fall in beside me, their footsteps matching mine as I pull out my phone and dial Hugo’s number.
“What’s wrong?” Alrick asks.
I end the call when he doesn’t answer and dial him again. After a few more tries, he finally answers, but heavy breathing comes over the line.
“Florian, what’s going on?” Alrick asks. “Talk to me.”
“Hugo!” I shout. “Hugo!”
Silence.
