“What’s up, bro? You have a good night?” I slurred, holding myself together with liquor and bad decisions.
“Jesus, Cezar, drinking again?” Codrin approached, and I instinctively backed up, stopping short of the wall to spare my back.
He acted like I drank all the time, which wasn’t true, but when I did, I tended to go overboard. He noticed my retreat and paused, giving me a puzzled look. The move wasn’t like me, but he must’ve chalked it up to the alcohol.
“I am sure Father wasn’t happy with you. Did he train you super hard this last week? You look exhausted,” he questioned.
There was something in his voice—suspicion, maybe. Was Lina getting through to him? Had she shown him what it looked like when someone actually cared?
I didn’t respond. My jaw clenched. Anger simmered. The alcohol wasn’t helping. The pain wasn’t helping. Nothing fucking helped. I grabbed the pill bottle and was about to shove more in my mouth, but he snatched it from my hand.
“Fuck, man, give it back. My body hurts,” I snapped, the words tripping over each other.
“Dude, I know your physical therapy was rough, and whatever Father had you doing this past week didn’t help, butyou can’t mix this stuff with how much you’ve had to drink,” he admonished, stowing the pills in his pocket.
That was it; I was at my breaking point. Tears slid down my face. No one but Petal knew the depth of this pain, and even she couldn’t fix it all. I wanted to run away with her, with my brothers. I hated this life. I hated that I existed in this fucking hell.
Codrin fell silent, his gaze fixed on me. I didn’t cry often and never in front of them. The last time was when I took my first life. Lately, though, keeping my emotions buried had become a losing battle. I couldn’t contain it. Maybe it was the drugs, the alcohol, the relentless pain, but I couldn’t fucking hold it together. No matter how hard I tried to wipe away the tears, they kept coming.
He approached me cautiously and enveloped me in a hug. I flinched, which he mimicked. His embrace pressed against my back, against everything.
“I know your arm is probably sore. I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard, man…” Codrin’s voice was tinged with remorse as he pulled away. Then he glanced down. His white shirt was smeared with my blood. The doctor hadn’t done a great job patching me up if I was bleeding out through my fucking clothes.
Horror clouded his eyes as he looked up at me, then at his sleeves, his hands… There was so much blood. Maybe that explained why I felt so fucked up.
“Fuck… Cezar… what the fuck, what h-happened??” His voice rattled. The same way it did at the hospital. At least he cared, even if he didn’t know how to show it half the time.
Codrin packed my things, zipped me up in a coat, grabbed one for himself, and hauled me out of the room. I didn’t know where we were going, but anywhere was better than here. We didn’t make it far before running straight into Darius.
I was holding my phone—the one thing I always kept close, and Darius ripped it right out of my hand, mocking the way I clung to it. “Relax,” he said, smirking. “Father only trains you that hard because you’re useless. Not because he thinks you’re ever going to be anything.”
Nothing he said could hurt me anymore.
Codrin didn’t share that attitude. He grabbed the phone back so fast that Darius didn’t have time to react. I only started paying attention when Codrin raised his voice.
“JUST STOP, fuck, Darius, just stop,” he snapped, then handed me my phone, and without a second glance at Darius, we left.
Chapter 39
ADELINA
Icouldn’t sleep. I tried, but nothing worked. My phone stayed on loud, tucked against my chest like it could fill the space where he should’ve been. If I didn’t hear it ring, I’d at least feel it.
Cezar hadn’t responded since he said he had things to take care of. I knew exactly what that meant. I knew what he was walking back into. And there was nothing—absolutely nothing—I could do to help him yet.
I just needed more time.
This week was the longest week I’d had in a while. My bed looked as if it had fought in a war—sheets twisted, pillows on the floor. Eventually, I gave up and wandered into the kitchen.
Dorin was awake. That alone told me everything—he slept like a corpse unless he was worried. We exchanged a look, pretending not to understand.
“Why are you still up?” I asked, rummaging through the fridge just to keep my hands moving.
“Probably for the same reason you are. Fucking stupid, haven’t slept well since he left. What’s up with that, Lina?” Dorin shook his head, as if trying to dispel all thoughts of Cezar.
It was hard not to like Cezar, even when he made everything chaotic. We sat at the island, picking at leftovers Dorin had made the night before.
I wanted to call Cezar so badly my fingers jerked every few seconds, but if his father caught him, I’d make things worse.
