Murders.
How many people had died so his father’s line could sit here?
He looked until he saw Sophia’s symbol. Bryson was certain it was on the cavern wall somewhere. He knew when he first saw it on that dresser that he had seen it before.
The Serras.
Sophia’s family had been here. What sort of horrors had they endured when their name was erased. What type of scars did that leave on a person? A legacy? A family?
It was enough that Sophia was putting her own daughter in danger to get it back.
Bryson’s father always taught him that attachments made him weak. That attachments would get him killed.
And maybe he would die, but Bryson knew that he wasn’t weak.
Weak was sacrificing another for your own gain. It was getting ahead on the backs of others.
And before Adria, that was all he knew. But Adria was strong, and she taught him that you didn’t need leverage. You didn’t have to force.
That you could help people, hold them, make space for them, and still have power.
Adria showed him that giving, not taking, made one powerful.
That type of power couldn’t be taken away. It was a certainty you held inside. You couldn’t lose something you grew yourself, but you could lose something you stole.
“Bryson Winters, you are accused of treason. I understand that you have something you would like to say on your behalf,” Alessandro said.
Strong hands gripped his arms, and Bryson was pulled along with them. He braced as he was thrown at the feet of his father and the rest of the Triune.
Gaining his bearings and ignoring the pain in his body, Bryson forced himself to be upright. He was kneeling, but that was only because they had bound his hands and legs.
He looked his father straight in the eye, and said, “I killed Jonathan.”
His voice was firm, despite the way his body shook. “Kaydon and Seth were not even there. Adria had no knowledge of the act and has been running for the sole purpose of finding a way to clear her name.”
Soft murmurs rippled around the table.
“Are we supposed to believe that you acted alone?” Alessandro said from above him.
“Trust me, Jonathan was an easy target. He was a pedophile and a piece of shit. It wasn’t hard to kill him.”
A hand struck Bryson across the face, sending him falling to the ground.
“That’s a lie. How dare you disgrace a dead man’s legacy,” Callen said.
Bryson spit blood onto the stone tile. “I admitted to killing him. Why would I lie?” Bryson said.
The murmurs were louder now.
People were wondering.
“You might lie to give yourself leverage in this proceeding,” Cahill said.
Bryson laughed. “What proceeding? You have already decided the narrative, now you just need me to fit into it.”
“Kill them,” Alessandro said, and a gun was pressed against Bryson’s forehead.
“Wait,” Helen’s voice came from the table.
