The smell of disinfectant tickles my nostrils.I hate how hospitals smell, and this doesn't stem from my childhood. I was a fairly healthy kid, I rarely fell ill. Perhaps it has to do with my mother. When she passed out a few days after Aaron was convicted, I was desperate. I didn't know what to do. They told me she was really sick, and I had to wait outside her room the whole day, waiting for her to wake up. I don't know what I would've done if she didn't. I remember feeling terribly anxious and afraid. What would I have done without her? I shake my head to get rid of these thoughts. I'm ready to go, but they're still keeping me here for some reason. Felix is gone, I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him since I got here. It's not that I want him around me; I know that he's probably already told Ferdinand about this and I'll have to deal with him when I get back. He must have followed me, which means he saw me with Devon. I wonder if that'll implicate him in some way. I'm mad
Devon rushes into his office and locks the door behind him.He sits behind his desk, then starts looking around for the bottle of scotch he kept in one of the drawers. He can't find it, which pisses him off. He slams the drawer shut and sits back, willing himself to calm down or he's going to lose his shit.That old woman, she said her name was Bertha Johnson, didn't want to cooperate at first, but Devon always finds a way to get someone talking. He threatened her, but when that didn't work, he promised to help her get what she wants. And when she talked, she fucking talked. He had a hard time believing her, but there was no way he couldn't. She knew exactly what she was talking about, her story made sense. He knew a small part, but now he finally pieced everything together.The story is too fucking crazy to be true.He needs to make calls, get people investigating this immediately, but Sam will be in his ass about this, because people need to be paid for their work, and the company c
Mom just shut down.As soon as I confronted her about it, she walked out of my room without offering me any explanation. I didn't go after her; it would be a waste of time. I can't understand why she won't just tell me. What's the worst that could happen if she did?I didn't realize that I fell asleep. I wake up and it's morning. I feel a deep ache in my bones, but I'm better. I shower, paying special attention to my hair because my head still hurts a lot, then get dressed in jeans and a black top. I wonder who bought all these clothes for me. They're exactly my size.I leave the bedroom and realize that the sitting and dining rooms are empty. It's around ten, which means that everyone's already gone. My mother must be in her room, that's where she always is, but I won't go to her, not until she opens up to me about all this. I'm disappointed and angry at her, I won't deny it. I kept secrets from her, that's true, but I'm still hurt that she'd not want to share this with me.One of th
Fury is burning in her eyes.Damien doesn't know why he followed her here exactly; all he knows is he couldn't resist her pull. Ferdinand was watching him, almost like he expected him to follow her. He walks a little further into the room and closes the door."So you're following me now?" she asks, jutting her chin out."You're the one in my private area, not the other way around." His response catches her off-guard. She blinks, her mask of confidence slipping for a moment. She turns around, facing the large window, observing the moving bodies below.What the fuck am I doing? He's asked himself this question about a hundred times since he saw her watching him with wide eyes. No, he's been asking himself that since he received the news that she would be joining Ferdinand, and instantly decided that he would show up. He got the invitation earlier, but he hadn't planned on going. He didn't have time to waste on drinks with John Herbert and the others.But when he heard that she would be
I can't wait for this 'meeting' to end.It's been going on for three hours, and so far, they haven't discussed anything of importance, just trivial matters. John Herbert—he's the one who sent the invitations—just talks about horse racing and bets, nothing that will contribute to this war Ferdinand keeps talking about. They're drinking the finest wine and having a grand time, whereas I'm sitting far away from the group and thinking about what happened.Damien.I don't understand him. When I saw him, all I wanted was to get away from him. I didn't expect him to follow me, and especially not to kiss me. It was brief, but it was a breath-taking kiss. I can't imagine why he would do such a thing. Just yesterday he said he would kill me if he had the chance, now he kissed me and demanded to know why I didn't tell anyone about Adam. The time for questions has passed long ago. Nothing makes sense, and I need alone time to reflect and think about what I'm going to do about this.I don't need t
Ethan stares at the ocean, and can't help but think of Damien. What the fuck is wrong with him? Something is amiss. He looked like he ate a mouthful of shit just yesterday, yet all of a sudden he's fine, back to his old self. Not his old, old self, but the one before that spying bitch came along and fucked with his head. He saw him before he left the office, and he had that stupid look in his face, like he saw a fucking butterfly. Ethan didn't ask him what was wrong. He'll leave that for after they return from the meeting with Jasper. Ethan will be seeing him for the first time in over fifteen years. His brother's a dick, Damien's right about that. He left without a word, which disappointed his parents, and Ethan, who had always looked up to him. He was everything Ethan wanted to be—extroverted, optimistic, daring. He admired his optimism above everything else. He couldn't imagine what it was like to be positive all the time, to expect the best in every situation, no matter how impr
I run out of the hospital.I couldn't breathe in there for a second. It's like the white walls of the room were closing in on me. I held onto her bed for support, but after a while, even that wasn't enough.I couldn't believe what she was telling me.I breathe in deeply. The night's air cools my clammy skin. My head is full of haunting images, of the full story. Ferdinand is a son of a bitch. He's the Devil's incarnate.And he has full control of me.My mother met him when she was seventeen. She came from a poor family—that I always knew—and so she dropped out of high school and worked full-time to help pay the rent.She started working at one of his family's many businesses, a flower shop. She hadn't been there for too long when he came in one afternoon. He was twenty-three at the time, and she found him handsome. He asked her to prepare a bouquet of roses—it was his mother's birthday—and when she handed it to him, he asked her for her name."Edith," she said, smiling demurely, offer
Devon orders another drink.He plans on getting drunk tonight. Kaitlyn called with news, confirming Bertha's story. However, there's still a piece of the puzzle missing, and that's why he's getting fucking drunk tonight.Who's Daisy's and Gabriel's son?He should've known that finding that out would be a damned difficult task. He knows that Bertha's son took his place, but Aaron didn't know it when he first showed him that grave. Now he's dead, and Devon doesn't even know if he found out the whole truth before he died. It's unlikely, right? Because who would've told him? Ferdinand probably believes that the kid is dead, which means only Daisy would know, and whoever helped her, because there's no way she did all of this on her own.The bar's red lights makes him feel safe. It's why he chose this place. White light means a clear face which means someone might recognize him, and as much as it fucking sucks, he's still dead. And if he doesn't catch Keller and those fucks he works with, f