“There was no footage because you were in a room full of people who couldn’t live stream if their sagging asses depended onit. And the security cameras were magically wiped by Lucien before anyone could pull any evidence.”
“There were a lot of witnesses.”
“No one speaks up in that world if they’re told not to. Money and power talk louder than morality, and Lawson’s got enough of both to keep every mouth shut, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you, brother. I won’t forget this.”
Cain leans back in the chair, his blue eyes fixed on mine. “You’ve done more for me than I can ever repay, but I’m hoping I’m maybe on your level now.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to read him as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a gold band. He just holds it there for a second, watching my face before placing it down on the table.
I know that ring.
Not because I wore it, but because it split my cheek open more than once.
I feel the shaking start in my hands before I even realize it’s happening. “Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“Don’t fuck with me right now.”
“Listen to me… It’s done. He’s gone, and he isn’t coming back. Now you can live without that bastard hanging over you.”
“Cain.”
“It’s over, Phoenix. You deserve a life without anything else holding you back.”
He killed him.
My father’s dead.
Fuck.
I don’t know what I’m feeling.
Gratitude? Fury? Some sick kind of jealousy? Because it should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to finish it.
“Is that where Lucien is?”
“Yeah, I wanted to be the one to bring you the trophy, considering it was my work.”
My hands are still cuffed, but I manage to pick up the ring, turning it over slowly. That’s when I see the dark droplets of blood on the inside.
“You actually cut his finger off?”
“Had to get the ring somehow, and he wasn’t exactly cooperative about taking it off himself.”
“He was alive when you did it?”
“Yep, it was funny, actually. I told him I was doing it for you, which was a real heartfelt moment for me because I knew how much this mattered to you. Then the prick looked me dead in the eye and called me a little bitch. So naturally, I cut off all of his fingers one by one, leaving him with this bloody little stump that looked like a chewed-up dick. I was almost pissing my pants because it looked weird as fuck, and he was just looking at it and screaming.”
This motherfucker’s out of his mind, but he just freed me in ways I never knew I needed.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure you can, baby,” he says, grinning at me like a lunatic.
“Did he say anything that sounded like… I don’t know, like he had any regrets?”
