Page 174

“No.”

“Nathaniel.” He says my name like he’s explaining something to a child. “Samson has never been able to distinguish between love and destruction. Delaney made him worse.”

“Delaney made him human.”

“You sound like him,” he says.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Where is he?”

Cain sets the glass down. “Never you mind.”

The old instinct rises. The one trained into me. The one that tells me to protect Samson because that’s what I do. I stand in front of consequences. I take the metaphorical impact. I keep the family face intact while Samson bleeds.

But I’m not here for Samson.

Not tonight.

Tonight I’m here for Ella.

My mind flashes to her hand around the key fob. The gun hidden in her apron. Her face as she forced herself to walk away from me.

Go, Ella.

Keep going.

I need more time.

I love you.

“Father won’t be able to contain Samson forever,” I say.

“No. But he doesn’t need forever.”

“What does he need?”

“Long enough.”

“For what?”

Cain’s mouth curves again. “You’re asking all the wrong questions tonight.”

Before I can respond, someone knocks at the door.

“Enter,” Cain says.

The door opens, and a young male steps inside. I recognize him as one of the servants, but I don’t know his name. He keeps his head bowed and carries a small jewelry box in both hands. Dark velvet with a silver latch. He crosses the room and places it on the corner of Cain’s desk.

“Thank you,” Cain says.

The servant bows and leaves.

I look at the box.

Cain looks at me.