Page 35 of Legacy of Succession

“Victoria, please. Let’s just finish the trials, let me get the title, and then, I can change things from there.” I’m begging her. I lean forward and press a kiss to her lips. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t push me away, either. She sits there without moving.

“Are you in pain?” I go for her hand again, but she pulls it away. “Victoria.”

“I want you to leave.” She turns her head away, looking out of the barred window.

“Don’t be like this. I’m not saying that I won’t change things when I’m Duke. I’m just saying, for now, it has to be like this.”

She doesn’t reply.

“Talk to me,” I demand.

“Leave.” Her eyes are dead. I’ve seen affection for me in them before, despite the monster I am, but there’s nothing there now. “You think after this there can ever be anything between us. If you put a stop to this now, then maybe, I could work on forgiving you, but you’ve seen me humiliated, beaten, almost killed, and still, you won’t fight for me. You could’ve had my love Nicholas, but you’ve lost that. Just leave.”

“Are you serious?” I jump off the bed, and she whimpers when the ripples from the force shake the mattress. “I don’t have a choice. I have to do it this way. It’s the only way to make sure everyone gets the future that will be best for them.”

“You’re deluded. If I carry on like this, then I’ll have no future. I’ll be dead.”

“Then, just do the tasks — I’ll give you the easy ones.” Why does she have to be so complicated? I’m frustrated and fuming at the same time.

“And let Amelia and Elizabeth get beaten or worse instead.”

“Don’t ask this of me. Just accept what I say.”

“I shouldn’t need to ask you.” She turns away. It’s the final nail in our conversation. She won’t acknowledge me anymore. I see that when she shuts her eyes.

“Fine, have it your way. Just don’t come running back to me when this is over, and the society’s gone.” I go back to the door and slam it shut behind me, leaving her alone to wallow in her self-pity. Doesn’t she realize this is hard for both of us? Damn frustrating, annoying women. Doesn’t she understand how much it broke me to see her savagely beaten? I wanted to stop it the entire time, and it could’ve been prevented if she'd just said ‘yes’.

I go straight back to my room. I’m shaking and sweating — I’m irate, and I’m worried. I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to shut this thing down, now, but the pressure on me is incredible. I can’t let my brother down. I can’t let other girls go through what’s happening to Victoria. I want it finished and done with. I want to go out and fuck an entire catalogue of lingerie models. Who the fuck am I kidding, no I don’t? Sex is actually the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, I don’t actually know what’s going on in my mind. It's a muddle of confusion and suffering. I’m the devil — I must be. I have to be as bad as my father in order to beat him. I’ve done wrong things in my life. I’ve killed, maimed, and stolen, all in the name of this fucking society. This fucking society. I pick up a wooden framed chair next to me and throw it hard into a wall. It hits a mirror, which smashes into a thousand pieces on the floor. Next up, I swipe everything off my chest of drawers onto the floor. I stop short of the brandy, sitting temptingly in the decanter at the end. Reggie must’ve known that it would be something that I need. I pick it up, pull the stop out, and take in long gulps, which burn my throat. I drink half of the bottle. My head swims with the instant hit of the alcohol. Fuck. Argh. I pick up some priceless ornaments and throw them at the artwork adorning the walls. They may be worth millions, but I don't care. I want to get paralytically drunk and destroy. It’s all I’m fit to do. It’s all I’ll ever do in this life. My father has told me enough times that I’ll never beat him, and I’m starting to believe it. It is now that I need to go to the dark side of my brain, if that is even possible. Fuck everyone but William. I'll destroy this society. I down another load of the brandy, and its high alcohol content instantly mixes with my blood, which is already compromised from not eating since breakfast. I look at my clock. Dinner time. Maybe I can make myself pass out before anyone comes looking for me. I'm pretty confident that I'm halfway there.

The door to my room creaks. I spin around, and Elizabeth Sandford is standing there. She bites her lip and allows the sleeve of the dressing gown that she’s wearing to fall from her shoulder.

“I heard a noise. I think my room must be underneath yours. I know we’re not allowed up here, but I was worried.”

She sashays up to me and places her hand on my chest.

“What’s wrong, My Lord? Is it something I can help you with? You seem upset.”

I look straight at her. She’s swaying a bit, or is it the fact that I’ve downed pretty much a whole decanter of brandy in ten minutes?

“This must be hard for you as well. To see us women hurt in a manner than your sensitive nature dislikes. I’ve seen the true man you are underneath. You want to do this about as much as we want to be married off in this way. You want to love and have affection. Something your father took away from you with your mother. He killed her.”

I grab her hand and pull it off my chest. I push her back but don’t let go. “Don’t talk about my mother. You know nothing about her.”

“I know she left you all alone with the man who tortures you night and day. He wants to mold you into his likeness, but you have a heart. He’ll never win.” I don’t know if she’s deliberate or not in her words, but her voice is seductive. The gown slips a little farther revealing the gossamer silk of a bra covering the curve of her breast. My eyes flit to it and back to her face.

“You want to sleep with me?” I ask.

She purses her lips together.

“Who wouldn’t? You’re a handsome man.”

“I won’t have sex with you, no matter how much you try to flatter me with your false praise of my character, contrasting it with my father’s. He’s the devil, but he taught me everything he knows.”

I let her hand go and bring my other hand to my mouth. It still contains the brandy bottle. I need more to numb everything. Tomorrow, I’ll gather my strength and try to fight again. But tonight, I’ve nothing left. Two weeks ago, I was carefree, and I didn’t have to think about this stupid society. Now, it’s all my brain can focus on.

“There’s another way.” Elizabeth's voice permeates my thoughts.

She drops to her knees. “You want to lose your mind for a while. I can help you with that.” Her hand is placed on my dick through my trousers, and before I have a chance to say no, she’s undoing my zipper and removing me. I’m not hard. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or my lack of lust for the woman on her knees in front of me. But the second she brings my cock into her mouth, I lengthen and lose myself in the moment. Victoria was right — I have no soul.

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