Page 75 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

She doesn’t seem surprised by the information, but her frown is still evident. When Leighton reaches our table, his analyzing gaze lies upon her. Gripping her chin, he forces her to look up into his stern eyes.

“She doesn’t deserve your pity.”

“I know,” Mother says in return. It’s not necessarily a soft response. Her tone tells a deeper story. She knows something more about this Anna woman’s end.

I decide to take my leave, knowing with Leighton’s presence, I wouldn’t get any information that would be of positive service to me.

Now that I’m aware of his personality struggles, I can allow myself a bit of grace.To not feel as though my existence plagued his.As for him, he has his own demons to face.

I can’t control how he treats me, but I can control how I react.

“Evangeline.”

I’m only a step from the door, my hand an inch from the glass knob that twinkles in the moonlight.

“To achieve the status of a Ruthless King, you have to be a group of sick bastards ready to do anything to secure such a validating place in our sinister hierarchy,” he repeats the same words I tossed to him that night at the dinner table.Before he encouraged his son to embarrass me.“Do you still believe in your own words?”

“Yes.” Not a hint of regret is in my firm tone. I further stand my ground by turning around so I can look at him directly. He’s still at my mother’s side, his hand lingering on her shoulder while she’s observing the both of us.

With her worrisome stare dancing between us, I know if a situation came where she had to choose between us, her hesitation would get us both killed.

Funny thing, I could respect her hesitation.

Children are meant to be born, raised, and left free to spread their wings and fly.

Despite the consequences plaguing them as they walk along different paths, at the end of the day, they’ll have one another until death do them part.

I was never meant to be their priority. Just an extension of our lineage who can either honor their sacrifices or mock them with my dismissive actions.

“So, you’re fine with hating me,” he concludes and smiles.

I see him differently now with the little tidbits I’ve gained from my mother. My viewpoint has shifted, noticing the tiny things he desperately tries to hide beneath the mask he portrays so flawlessly.

Like how his hand upon my mother’s shoulder grips tighter to hide its slight tremble.

“I do hate you,” I begin as I slowly shrug. “I never said my hate was permanent.” It doesn’t seem as though he understands what I mean by that, but that’s the point. “I never expected perfection from you. All I wanted was to feel a sense of warmth in a home that felt far too cold.”

Turning away, I smile at my own words, accepting how I’ve grown these last few weeks dealing with my sicko set of Ruthless Kings.

Understanding their circumstances and perspectives and beginning to realize we’re all a bunch of lost kids seeking oursense of closure in a world that was never made to value our worth.

“I should attend to my Ruthless Kings,” I announce. “I want to ensure they realize their needs should be the top of my duties as a Ruthless Maiden.”

“Do you think Domino deserves redemption?”

I’m not surprised by his question.

More so intrigued.

“A man who paints himself a villain to the world but is still able to be a hero in the eyes of his lover deserves redemption,” I announce as I think of that traumatizing moment on the ice.How the man I thought deserved a chance discarded my life like it was a flicker of ash.“When a man loses sight of the light in his life, he’s nothing but a lost cause waiting for his sins to finally catch up to him.”

I grip the doorknob and dare to smile.

“So, no. He doesn’t deserve redemption,” I proudly state and look over my shoulder. “But I think with time, anyone can have a shot at redeeming grace.”

Locking eyes on him flickers something I’ve seen him allow just recently on that stage before the world.

That glimmering spike of pride.

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