I just couldn’t understand one thing. My father loved her. My God, that was the only thing that man was truly honest about. I could see the way he looked at her, the way he listened to her even when what she was spewing was complete and utter nonsense.
Then why did he keep feeding her that shit?
“You look lovely.” The Devil in disguise walked in just as I reached the ground. His eyes scanned over me, and with a satisfied nod, he finally smiled at me. “Just like chernaya vdova.”
A fucking black widow.
I shuddered from the attention directed to me and turned around just as he bent down to kiss my mother. She giggled at something he said, and for a moment, I could imagine us as a perfectly normal family.
Parents with their daughter, going to dinner at their friend’s house. I would talk about school and my plans for college with my mom. My dad would be interested in my extracurricular activities, and I would have a close relationship with my siblings.
But none of that would ever be true.
“Thank you, Papa.”
Thank you for the shadows in my eyes.
My mother kept gazing at my father as if he put the stars in the sky, as if I wasn’t standing in front of her. Why did I still hold hope that one day she would wake up from the world she drugged herself into and see what was happening around her? Maybe because she was my mom. She was supposed to protect me from this, because if she wouldn’t, who would?
I should’ve been feeling warm, it was summer after all, but the mere thought of tonight’s dinner kept sending shivers along my skin. I talked the talk, but I wasn’t so sure I would be able to walk the walk and ask Kieran everything I needed to know.
Fuck it.
I just tortured a grown-ass man yesterday, and now I was afraid of a conversation between me and somebody I’ve known for most of my life. Grow a backbone, Ophelia.
“Papa, Mama,” I started, stopping them from mauling each other in front of me. “It’s already eight o’clock. Shall we?”
Did I deliberately stop their little ménage a deux? Of course, I did. I didn’t want to see my parents going at it right in front of my eyes. When my father looked at me, that fear I felt lately whenever he was around started crawling up my spine, seeping into my bones, and I expected him to reprimand me.
Another hit meant nothing to him. Another degradation was but a ‘good morning’ for him.
I straightened my shoulders, but when his hand connected with my cheek, pain never followed. In its place was a feathery touch to my face and a look in his eyes I couldn’t decipher.
He almost looked proud.
With a smile I rarely saw, he walked toward the door, opening it for both of us. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I would be able to forget who we were and just enjoy dinner.
But my father has played this game for far longer than I have, and just before we exited the house, he gripped my arm, stopping me in my tracks. The smile was gone, replaced by the sinister look I was familiar with.
There he was. The dragon. The Devil. My nightmare.
Faster than it started, all the hope I had diminished with his words.
“There will be some,” he cleared his throat, “revelations tonight. I need you to work with me and not ask too many questions. Can you do that?”
Two oceans were clashing in the staring match between the two of us. I hated his surprises. He was planning something, and whenever the wheels in his head were turning, I ended up with yet another person to kill and a body to bury. It wasn’t like I could say no, or run away. The things he showed me were enough to strike fear into my heart, and to understand that no matter what, the Syndicate would always find me.
I nodded like an obedient little child, and the pleased look on his face told me I was out of trouble. For now, at least.
“Good.” Placing his arm around my shoulder, he started walking to the car where my mother already sat inside. “You’re good.”
Good? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I kept glancing at his satisfied face. He looked like a cat that ate the canary. What was he up to?
I sat next to Mom, trying to ignore the twitch in her right hand, and the looks she kept throwing at my father. I knew those looks—she was due for her next fix. Nope, not my problem anymore. If she could give me to the wolves like this, I wouldn’t care about her disease.
Absolutely not my problem.
The Nightingale house was only ten minutes away from ours, but it felt like an eternity, being trapped with the two of them inside the car. Nobody spoke. Hell, I almost held my breath trying to be as quiet as possible. Ava was pissed at me, my father had something planned, my mother was high as a kite, and I had another assignment tomorrow.
We pulled in front of the large, mahogany doors where like an entourage, the Nightingale family stood, including the twin brothers. Tristan was nowhere to be found. Was he not joining us tonight?
My breath hitched as my eyes raked over Kieran’s body, my heart racing inside my chest. Both of the twins started walking toward the car with Ava trailing after them. My door opened in the next second, and I found myself in an embrace so tight, my air supply started cutting short.
“Kieran,” I wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”
“Little bird.” He squeezed me tighter, almost lifting me off the ground. His lips connected with my temple, and I felt that kiss all the way to my toes. “Look at you.” He took a step back, holding my hands in his. The smile on his face hurt my heart because in the next second his eyes connected with mine, and whatever he saw there banished the happiness he was enveloped in. He kept glancing between my father and me, a scowl marring his face.
“You know,” he started, lowering his voice. “Don’t you?”
Swallowing a needle in my throat, I carefully nodded, inching closer. “We need to talk.”
I noticed Ava standing behind him, a puzzled look on her face. She was still pissed off, and she had every right to be, but dealing with her emotions would have to wait—at least for now.
“After dinner, little bird?” Kieran asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
I didn’t miss the worried look he sent my way, or how he tightened his hold on my shoulders. Ophelia from one year ago would revel in his attention, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. Today, his attention was the last thing I needed.
I just needed to know how to move forward.
“Let’s go inside, yeah? They should be serving dinner soon, and the sooner we get that over with, the sooner we can talk.”
“Son, why don’t you take a seat next to Ophelia?” Nikolai Aster said to me as soon as we entered the dining room, while my father took a seat at the head of the table, a smug smile on his face. I wanted to punch both of them and get the hell out of here.
They were the monsters parents warned their kids about. The greatest nightmare any of us could have, and I had to call them family when I wanted nothing more than to see them suffer for everything they did. I couldn’t even imagine what Ophelia was going through living with Nikolai and her deranged mother. That look on her face earlier told me everything I needed to know.
She was in.
I always knew she would end up being part of this darkness, this madness consuming us all, but I never expected it to happen so soon. Just last year she was saying goodbye to Cillian and me, sending us back to college, excited about what the future would bring her. Some things were inevitable, but I thought she had time—the time to be a normal teenager, to be free of all of this, because once you were in, you weren’t just committing yourself to the job.