He’s going to kill me when he realizes how I was the catalyst, assisting it to get more information and didn’t stop it.
“If you don’t spit it out, I might actually kill you.”
“When I was at the Estate, playing inside man, pretending to be on their side… Midas didn’t tell me but he planned a coup of sorts. He took Colt off her birth control.”
“He what?” he barks, his face morphing into the killer one I know he really carries. It doesn’t scare me. If anything, it’s more truthful and honest. But it’s intimidating, to say the least.
“I couldn’t stop it before it happened. I was too late.”
“We need to get her a pregnancy test, then we need to kill the head snake. With Midas having Colt’s blood oath, we’re fucked. Why did Tasha sign-off on this?” he adds on at the end.
I scoff, hating the name of the bitch who could have easily stopped the marriage. “You’re asking me why the woman who is supposed to protect her kids decided to abandon one, let one die, and sell the last one… Was she ever really a fucking mother?” I hiss.
“You’re right,” he grumbles. Then he peers into my eyes. “How is she?”
“Noah?” I ask, already knowing she’s who he’s talking about. He nods and I feel an ounce of pride for her. “She’s strong, intelligent, and is helping me.”
He shakes his head vehemently. “That ends now. No more. You will not get my other daughter killed.”
“You never did explain why she didn’t get raised with Colt and Cassidy.”
Sadness wraps around his features like the serpent does its prey, and his face sobers. “When Tasha gave birth to them, she’d made a deal behind my back.” I nod, knowing what he’s talking about. “We had already discussed that we would pretend Colt, Noah, and Cassidy weren’t triplets. You know the Grim doctrine. Triplets are worse than twins, it causes a rift, and when they turned twenty-one, they’d have to kill each other for power.”
He sits up straighter. “Somewhere along the way, she made a deal, and I have no fucking clue what for. Basically, she sold Noah to the Edgingtons, saying she was abandoned by the Marchettis. She didn’t know what to do with her. The Marchetti name still meant something back then and he couldn’t resist. Since Elijah wasn’t aware Noah was mine, he had no reason to deny her and raise Noah as his own.”
“I don’t understand why he has so many orphans in the first place,” I interrupt.
Adjusting in his chair, Mortem stretches and lets out a sigh. “The Edgingtons are the least pure bloodline,” he admits. I know my jaw unhinges, my clenched expression slackening with the news. How could they be muddied when they’re so high up? Mortem stares at me for a moment before continuing. “Elijah was shot when we were younger. He, Midas, Xavier, and I were playing with a pellet gun out back. They were dead set on killing a jackrabbit when it discharged, hitting Elijah in his junk.”
I’m sure I cringed since Mortem laughs. Every time a guy mentions their balls or dick getting hit, cut, or anything uncomfortable, I swear I feel the phantom pain from it.
“He was rushed to the hospital where they had to remove one of his testicles,” he explains, his face scrunched. “As we got older and he was promised to Tasha, he knew he wasn’t fertile but needed kids. Tasha and Elijah made this atrocious fucking plan to blackmail someone or rape them if need be to get Tasha pregnant.”
Bile rises in my throat, not liking where this is going.
“That’s where I come in,” he mutters. “I’m bisexual and confided in Tasha about feeling stuck because of my bloodline and the Vestige. We grew up together, friends for years… didn’t think she’d turn against me.”
“Fuck,” I mumble.
“Fuck is right,” he rasps, clearing his throat. Mortem stands, adjusting his shirt before walking toward the hutch nearest his desk. He pulls out a bottle of Scotch and my stomach rebels. Out of all the boozes, he seems to enjoy the worst of them all.
Scotch makes me sick with its intensity, but I agree when he offers. He seems to need it. “She used it against me. When I told her I didn’t care if I was outed, she didn’t like that.”
He takes a large swig before offering me a glass. “I knew she was batshit crazy, but I guess I underestimated it.”
“After profusely saying no, she drugged me and raped me.”
I stare at him, my jaw trying to touch the floor. “She what?”
“She raped me and I’m not even sure what she told everyone.”
“What the fuck? Did Edgington know it was you?”
“No, she didn’t tell him or he’d have done what Midas did.”
All of this has me taking my own swig of Scotch, hating the flavor but needing the distraction. “What did you do?”
“At first, I didn’t even know what happened. I don’t remember that night at all. I’m not even sure how she got my dick to work. It wasn’t until Tasha abandoned Elijah at the altar that I knew she’d done something. Then she was supposedly with Midas, I’m guessing that’s how he knew about Tasha being pregnant way before me.”
“This is so fucked up,” I mutter, finishing off my glass.
As he’s about to talk more, the door bursts open and a frantic Fred comes in. “We need to go to Arcadia.” Mortem stands and comes to me.
“Protect her while I’m gone.” He whips a handgun, offering it to me. “I don’t care who dies, make sure she’s safe.”
Is someone coming?
“I don’t—”
“Promise me, Clemonte.”
“I promise,” I rasp, feeling a part of me come alive, it’s the dormant and dark part that stays hidden unless absolutely necessary.
He rushes out of the room, and I’m stuck wondering what the fuck is happening and why he seemed stressed. We didn’t even plan the downfall of the society. How are we going to just leave off on that?
What if he dies?
What if I have to carry on without his guidance?
What if I have to be the one to tell Colt everything?
My stomach clenches as I pace his office.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Chapter Eight
Lennox
Standing, waiting for the voice to come closer, me and Jordan glance back and forth at each other, not knowing exactly what the fuck we’re supposed to do. Only moments ago, we were running from the cops and anyone else who could identify us as involved with Rimbaur’s death.