Page 5 of Hidden Empire

“Jesus Christ, Dante,” he exclaims as he flinches. “Three days ago, Kim tried to have her arrested for attempted murder. I wasn’t on the case, but I know it was dismissed and deemed self-defense.

“She stabbed him seventeen times and didn’t have more than a few scratches and bruises from what I know. But she’s had this blank look in her eyes since, which makes me think… things I don’t want to think. I don’t know what she told the detectives and the DA, but whatever she did determined that she wasn’t legally responsible for her actions.”

He thinks Kim let some fucker assault my daughter. Fucking shit, is she my daughter? I need to see her. Now.

“Bring me to her.”

Jade

The first time I see a mansion up close, I’m in the back of a police car. I don’t know why I think that’s fitting. Outside of Kim’s perspective, I’m never in trouble. I’ve never even been called to the principal’s office.

I guess since being around cops near constantly for the last couple of years, I almost feel comfortable about it. I don’t know if they’re great people, really. But it seems the ones in Thornbridge are better than others. They look out for me, or at least, they try. They’ve always listened to me, especially Detective De La Cruz.

So, the police, who I’d never fully trust, haven’t been as scary as Kim in a long time. Mostly because it seems she’s never fully learned how to manipulate them into hating me, and she’s great at that.

Sitting in the back of the car while the eerie night surrounds it, I don’t feel so safe anymore. I’m alone with my thoughts, trapped with the events of the day, replaying on a loop. I watch them all like a movie, the screen fading to black before my hands got on Kim.

It’s the worst movie I’ve ever seen. So disgustingly sad—pathetic, really. Little Jade Donovan—unwanted by all. Lied to. Abused with horrid words.

Not only insults but daunting threats. I could die tonight, according to Kim. If her theory is right, I should be running for my life. Whether her word is shit or not, I can’t make myself move. I can’t make myself do anything other than stare at my bloodied hands and wait.

Admittedly, I’d gazed at the stunning mansion for a bit, mesmerized by the sheer size and luxury of it. It was overstimulating though. Watching it only made my head flood with more questions.

Does he live here? Dante. My father? Was he upset about being interrupted on a random weekend evening? The idea soured my gut. Am I already becoming a burden to him?

So many minutes pass that the air in the car becomes stale, and for my lung’s sake, I’m considering cracking my door open for a bit of fresh air.

Like that thought alone has conjured him, Officer Brian materializes, opening my door slowly. I flinch at the sound of it, swinging my eyes to him. Except, it’s not Officer Brian looking back at me.

It’s a mirror. A distorted one that makes me look older and manly. Crystal blue eyes, dark hair, full lips, strong cheekbones… so similar it feels like a hallucination.

“Jade?” the man—not mirror—asks. His voice is deep and thick with rasp.

A pathetic whimper crawls up my throat and my face crumples. “D-dad?”

I can’t watch him react or hear him reply before bursting into hysterical sobs. I can’t breathe with the strength of them, blinded by the huge tears flooding my eyes. My ribs expand and deflate in rapid movements as I begin to panic. I never cry like this, not in front of anyone. I break hard, but I break alone.

I’m pulled out of the car and into strong arms, held tight against an unfamiliar chest. For the first time in a long time, my skin doesn’t scream with the contact. I don’t feel the powerful urge to kick and punch and claw my way out of his hold. I slump into it, going soft, and bury my head into the warm crook of his neck to hide my tears.

My legs dangle off of the ground as he begins to move, gently shushing me while walking away from the chill of the night and toward the mansion. A large hand cups the back of my neck, resting on top of my disheveled hair.

“Shhh,” he coaxes as my ribs spasm and my lungs drag in shaky breaths. “You’re alright, sweetheart. It’s okay, shhh.”

The air around us becomes so warm it’s like I could reach out and touch the barrier from cold to heat. He’s brought me inside, called me sweetheart, and told me it’s okay. I feel like I could cry like this for days, but I have an itch to make it all stop. I can’t be sobbing on a stranger, getting tears and snot all over him. I refuse.

Like a switch, I begin to shut it all down. The remaining moisture in my eyes is blinked away, the panic in my chest calms, and the emotion in my throat unclogs. It’s not an instant, but it’s fast enough, ending with the slowing of my breaths. I put away the awful feelings, shelving them in their brain compartment, and then walk away.

I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve before lifting my eyes. The mirrored blue ones are there when I do, staring right back at me.

“This is freaky as fuck,” a new voice rings out, shocking me enough to make me flinch.

I’m slowly put back down on my feet, and my supposed bio-dad stays close but angles himself to the side, revealing more people. At the forefront stand nine men. All are tall, with different levels of broadness, varying in age, and all looking relatively alike.

“What’s good, little sis?” the same voice from before chimes, coming from the smirking face of one of the new men. He’s young, brunette, and wearing a playful expression that doesn’t quite match his sharp features.

A brother, apparently.

Um, multiple brothers?

---