Page 64 of Relentless Sinner

I’m done here. And so is Emilio. In one deft move I pull the knife from his gut and slash his throat, finishing him.

Blood splatters on me but that’s the least of my worries.

I push to my feet and look around at my men. My men who heard that my uncle has it in for me. They all stare back at me with worried expressions etched into their faces.

These guys here—the five of them and Andrieu—have always been loyal to me. Some have been my guards since I was a boy.

I’ll need them now more than ever because everyone seems to have their own agenda.

“Say nothing about this,” I say, pushing my shoulders back. “Say nothing to anyone. If you’re questioned by my uncle, tell him you saw nothing and that I dealt with the situation myself.”

They all nod, and we leave.

I step into the dimly-lit library. My father sits slumped in his wheelchair, gazing at the full moon through the oval window.

In just the few days since I’ve seen him he looks worse again, a shadow of the man he used to be.

His skin is almost translucent and ghostly pale, as if all the life has drained out of him and there’s only a trace of the man Iknow left. The man who once commanded the empire and ruled our world with an iron fist.

I hate the way my chest tightens at seeing him like this. I hate him, too, but watching him wither away doesn’t sit right. A part of me wants to reach out like the concerned son I should be, but I hold back. We’re not those people. We never were.

He’s not going to like the news I have to share.

"You came," he says, speaking out to the air.

"I needed to," I reply. “We have to talk. The situation has escalated.”

“Must be real bad for you to come by at this hour.” Slowly he turns his head and looks at me, reminding me of a fragile newborn animal who can barely hold its head up.

“It is.”

I walk over to him, pull up a chair and sit, regarding him with a serious expression.

His hand trembles as it rests on the arm of his chair, and he slumps against the back.

“It’s Damian. He’s working with the cartel. He set the bombs up.”

I proceed to tell him all that I found out and my concerns going forward. I fully expect him to be angry with me or some shit like that, but he listens silently, hanging on to every word I speak.

Once I’m done I stare back at him expectantly, waiting for his response.

He looks away from me and stares out the window again as if I never said anything. I don’t know if he’s in shock to hear that his brother is plotting against him or if he’s dismissing me like he’s done in the past.

“Father.”

“I am not surprised.” His voice is low, raspy, and filled with regret.

I gaze at him, my intensity unwavering, and I’m not sure what I should say. “You’re seriously not surprised?”

“This is a battle for the empire. You fight for what you want by eliminating the weak and taking down your opponents. That’s what Damian is trying to do.” Father drags in a deep breath. The air in his lungs sounds rusty. “With you and me gone, it means they would get power. Levka will be Pakhan, Yuri his second-in-command and I suppose Magnus will continue to be the Obshak. Damian would more than likely replace Eric because they won’t want him to have any part in the elite. Even in an advisory capacity.”

“What are your thoughts?” I have to ask because he sounds too calm for my liking. Like a psycho before they snap or a person in a catatonic state.

“They’re not going to overthrow me. None of them.” He gives me a hard stare. “Nor are they going to kill me. Or you. I have chosen you and no one is going to overrule my decision by plotting my death.”

His determination about me is surprising. I would have thought he wouldn’t care but, knowing him, he does because of the insolence of Damian’s challenge.

“What should we do?”