Despite his history, Octavius wasn’t a murderer.
There was no way in hell that he could hurt his father, but he didn’t want to tell him that just yet. He had a feeling that saying no to this request might have dire consequences for him. He needed to mentally map out an escape plan.
“You don’t have to decide tonight, my boy, we can talk tomorrow. Come to Eden early in the morning and we can discuss the arrangements—”
“What arrangements?” A steely figure appeared in the doorway.
Octavius looked up and was surprised to see Bilal standing there, amixture of worry and confusion written on his face. Still, relief spread through Octavius. Bilal had seen his message.
Even though the Button siblings’ group chat had been largely inactive since Octavius had left the Manor, no one had yet exited the chat. The last message sent before tonight had been a whole year ago, and it was Romeo asking if everyone was doing okay. As expected, no one had replied. The answer was always the same anyway.
Despite how hostile things had become between them all, the fact that no one had left the group always felt like a sign to Octavius that when he needed his siblings, they would be there.
“Nothing that concerns you, Bilal,” Mr. Button said.
Bilal’s eyes flickered over to Octavius, who seemed worse than he had earlier. But there was also a look in Octavius’s eyes, a look Bilal recognized from when they were still close. A look asking for his older brother to rescue him from himself.
“I think it should concern me, Father,” Bilal said.
Mr. Button’s eyebrow quirked up. “Is that right?”
Bilal stood up straighter, a defiance in his expression as he nodded. “Yes.”
Mr. Button’s gaze flickered over the booted cast Bilal was wearing. “Hmm, that’s a shame… I would have thought your primary concern should be the fact that you will probably never fence professionally again due to your… self-inflicted injury,” Mr. Button replied unfeelingly. Octavius watched the color drain from his brother’s face.
Self-inflicted?Octavius thought.
“How—” Bilal began, his face the very picture of fear.
“Wrong question, my boy.” Mr. Button smiled widely now, moving a chess piece across the table as he did. “It is not a matter of how I know. That’s easy, I have access to all of your medical records. The question is why… Why would you be so foolish? Throwing away the career I built for you. Thedoctor wrote that you had tried to hurt yourself. Do you know what doing this has cost you—”
“Stop it,” Octavius said, hating how hurt Bilal looked now.
“Stop what? Stop holding you children accountable for your reckless actions?”
“No, stop being a cruel prick,” Octavius said before his brain could even process it. His eyes widened as he took in his father’s calm demeanor.
“We will discuss all of this in the morning. You too, Bilal, we need to figure out what on earth you are going to do now that you are completely useless,” Mr. Button pronounced icily.
Before either of them could respond, another voice came from the entrance.
“Tavi? Are you okay? What happened?” It was a panicked Fola, her eyes darting around the room in confusion as she took in the scene.
Bilal looked as though he was on the verge of crying, and Octavius seemed like he was about to be sick. And her father… well, her father looked like his usual self. Shifting chess pieces around the board while the world moved on around him.
“He’s fine—” Mr. Button began with a wave of his hand, but he was cut off.
“Dad asked me to kill him,” Octavius said.
“WHAT?” Bilal’s and Fola’s voices merged with each other’s.
Their father looked up from his game then, a dangerous glimmer in his eye as silence followed.
“What do you mean by that, Tavi?” Fola asked, stepping forward, her dyed honey-blond curls swishing about as she went to stand in front of him.
His father gave him a look that said:Be careful of what move you make next, Octavius.
Octavius didn’t care anymore about making the right move or the wrong one. He just knew which move he didn’t want to make, and that was whichever one his father wanted.
