Page 63 of In the Midst of Chaos

Nash pulled back, and I immediately felt the cold of his absence.

He went to the room and came back with a warm rag. He cleaned me up, and I watched him through sleepy eyes, a smile playing on my lips while he looked pensive. He then went to his drawer and lit a cigarette.

“You got what you wanted, babe,” he said, and I opened my eyes, staring at him in shock. “You should go.”

I sat up, bringing the sheets to my chest. “W-what?”

Nash took another drag, and when he released the smoke, he spoke again. “You wanted to get fucked, and now you have, so leave.”

“But…” I started to demand an explanation at the same time, trying to hold back tears. “You said you—lo—”

“And now I want you out of my fucking sight.” He seethed with so much hate I knew he meant it. “Nothing is going to change the fact that you will marry Huxley. Nothing. So, do us a favor and stop begging. You got my dick, don’t be more pathetic. I know your father raised you better than that.”

I grabbed the bedsheets and wrapped them against myself. “I hate you,” I spat at him, forcing the tears to stay at bay.

I walked out of his room, holding on to the little bit of pride I had left. Walking the dark manor, I made it up to my room, where I grabbed my things in the dark. I didn’t even know for which loss of innocence I was crying for. Giving my virginity to Nashton or killing a man.

I looked at my room, and I took it to memory. The feelings a foolish girl had. I took all of my father’s training and threw it out the window for one boy, one cruel boy. The next time I came back, he was going to be sorry he ever betrayed me.

Before leaving, I called for Dion. He had been my family’s butler for years but followed me here when I lost everyone. “You will be my eyes and ears. You will tell me about everything going on in this manor of horrors.”

He nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be swayed. I was stubborn, like my father. Then I walked into Axton’s study.

He was a workaholic, much like my father had been. He sat behind his regal desk—a king among mortals. Nash looked so much like him; it physically hurt to see him.

He didn’t look surprised to see me.

“I want my vow to be validated.”

“Then I want your contract to stay as it is, “he replied instantly.

I slammed the door to his study, and I didn’t look back as I took the steps down one at a time, taking me far away from this place. Horror, dreams, and nightmares. All so similar and destructive. Attainable and replaceable.

Chapter Twenty-One

My eyes were focusedon the door as I used all my energy to jump using my tiptoes in order to make the chair fall with enough force, and break. The sound was heavy when it happened. My back took the shock of the impact, but the chair’s leg was unsnapped, and I could work with that.

No remorse. It was our life or theirs. There couldn’t be a moment of hesitation. That’s how fatal errors often happened. I think that’s why I killed that man the day I took my vow. It was him or me, and my father always taught me that it was them who had to be killed when it was a life-or-death situation. Never me, never us, and a Death Disciple always took back their revenge tenfold.

I rolled to the side, getting on my belly so the back of the chair could protect me in case I didn’t get these ropes off fast enough. I got on my knees as I moved my feet, trying to get the rope off. When it was off, I got up and noticed that my little fall wasn’t loud enough to get their attention, but this next part would be.

I took a deep breath before I ran backward so the chair could ram against the wall. When it broke, I felt one of the cracks stab my back.

I hissed, and I heard steps and shouts in the house—no time to think about this. I wiggled my hands, having enough room to slide the rope off. I was just free when two men barged in.

I didn’t know them.

They looked Hispanic, which was more than enough to let me know that maybe the cartel was involved.

I grabbed the rope and waited by the wall since at least it protected me from behind. That just left three other forms of attack.

We never practiced like this, Daddy, I thought to myself. I took my sight off them for a second so I could look at Duncan. He was pissed off. I was moving, trying to no avail to remove the ropes from his arms.

It wasn’t helping at all.

“What do you want with us?” I asked.

The guy smiled at me crudely, looking me from my head down to my toes, giving me an idea of what he wanted from me. My father was right—men did think they owned us, which was ironic now that I thought about it. The reason why he never wanted me to be a queen because he treated women like pawns, and he didn’t want me to be like Eleonor or my mother. He loved me enough to want more from me. It’s why he prepared me because he knew living this life, I would one day land in this situation.

---