Page 2 of Vicious King

“Not exactly something I’m overjoyed to admit to my son, let alone anyone else,” he muttered. “There’s nothing less emasculating to me than knowing I can’t father children anymore.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I said.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about your conception. I always had a feeling it would come back to haunt me one day, but as I said, I just couldn’t find the right time or the right words to tell you.”

“I understand.”

“Forgive me, son?”

I shrugged. “Sure. And for what it’s worth, I really am glad you pulled through. You looked terrible back there.”

“I probably still do,” he said with a wry smile. “Fortunately, I’m on just enough painkillers to not care.”

I returned his smile and stood up. “I should probably let you get some rest. You must be exhausted.”

He nodded and yawned. “Come and see me again in the morning.” He glanced at the clock. “The real morning, that is.”

“Will do.” I went to leave the room but turned back a second later as curiosity gnawed at my guts. “Can I ask you a couple of things before I go? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.”

“What should I do with Tatum? I never thought she would go this crazy. Obviously it’s more thanacting at this point. She really can’t stand being with me. I mean, she hates me so much that she stabbed you just to get at me.”

“Yes.” His eyes narrowed and he let out an angry puff of air. “Well, after what the little bitch did, I know exactly what I’d want to do, but in the end, I suppose she’s yours. Punish her as you see fit.”

“You don’t think we should terminate the contract and send her home? Or send her straight to a fucking psych ward?”

His upper lip curled slightly upward. “No. You’ve only had her a few months, and she’s still in training. She’ll settle down. Like I’ve always said, she knew exactly what she signed up for when she gave herself to the society. And we all know what a good little actress she is. She isn’t crazy. She’s just faking it all for attention. Trust me.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Right.”

“What was the other thing?”

I hesitated for a few seconds before responding. This subject could be sensitive. “The egg donor,” I finally said. “Do you have any records on her, or contact details?”

Now that I knew the truth, I was curious about my background on my biological mother’s side. Of course, I knew she wasn’t my mother like Sylvie was, because she didn’t carry me or give birth to me, but the immediate urge to know where my genes came from had stoked a burning thirst for answers.

“What? Why?” Something zapped across my father’s gaze for a second, making his pale face bright and alive for an instant. It was fleeting, but I didn’t miss it. He was angry at me for asking.

“Just curious. There’s this whole new side of me I never knew about till now. Wouldn’t mind finding out more.”

“No.” Something glinted in his eyes again, hard and dense as steel. “She wasn’t your mother, so there’s no need for you to go digging around. I don’t have any information on her anyway.”

I frowned. It wasn’t exactly an unreasonable request on my behalf. I was conceived twenty-four years ago, back when medical testing for heritable illnesses and conditions wasn’t at the standard it was nowadays. Back then, the egg donor might’ve seemed like a good choice, but for all I knew, certain health issues ran in her family that I might want to know about. Heritable forms of cancer, heart disease, chromosomal abnormalities, mental illnesses… all manner of things I might want to know about for my own sake and my future children’s sake, if I ever decided to have any.

I deserved to be informed, as much as it might upset my father.

I outlined this to him, expecting him to understand.

Instead, there was that flash of steel again. “Leave it alone, Elias. Sylvie was your mother, and she sacrificed her life for you. Don’t taint her memory by searching for another woman to replace her!”

I narrowed my eyes. Again, my request wasn’t unreasonable. I wasn’t looking to replace my mother’s memory with another woman. I just wanted simple information.

Dad was overreacting, trying to guilt-trip me into dropping the subject, but I didn’t want to. His reticence made me suspicious all over again (along with the fact he claimed not to have any information on the egg donor, when he simply had to) and I wanted to shake him until he told me everything he knew about her.

Of course, I couldn’t do that. Not now. He was weak, frail. It would have to wait.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said curtly.

I swept out of the room and strode down the hall. It was late, but I was wide awake now, filled with pumping adrenaline and fury.

I was going to take out some of that anger as soon as I could, and I was going to do it to the person who deserved it most of all.

Tatum.

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