Page 59 of Stone

Stone

The voile curtain covering the open patio doors blows in the evening breeze, and the soft classical music playing creates an eerie ambiance. Beneath that, my blood pumps with vengeance. Little does Vector and Azrael know they’re about to walk into a carefully designed lair orchestrated with a promise of retribution.

My legs are spread as I sit in an armchair like a king, sipping the amber substance in my glass between swirling it around the ice. My exterior portrays me as cool, calm, and collected, but internally, I’m anything but. Doubt and anxiety ripple through me, combined with a surge of excitement at the thought of finally unleashing the years of horror and torment on Vector. Sure, he isn’t the only perpetrator in my nightmares, but Don is dead, and Benito is untouchable… for now. So, with this in mind, I’ll be able to rid myself of the venom ravishing my veins like poison, transferring it to the man who caused so such pain on my body I willed death to welcome me. I never truly wanted to die, too terrified to never see Sienna again, but I didn’t want tolive either. I was existing in a gray area of never truly living life, only I was a prisoner of it.

Footsteps vibrate the patio, and I sit up straighter, ready for action, and when the veil is pulled back to uncover my brother’s face, a flash of guilt crosses it.

Azrael is many things; a sadist is at the top of a long list of his accolades, but I know he, like me, never had a choice. We were created to be the versions our so-called father wanted us to be. Azrael’s family was connected to the O’Connells’ uncle, an enemy, and when I uncovered an exchange as a teenager, I was shot and left for dead. It was only when Don discovered I was showing signs of life that the medical team on his payroll informed him of it. Don came to the hospital on the premise of paying his respects only to unearth I had been starved of oxygen but showing signs of improvement; he kept my existence a secret, then he filled his family with lies. He took over my supposed funeral arrangements while placing me in the Carrera infirmary. Later, they decided what better way to control an enemy than to have their flesh and blood serve them as one of their own.

Of course, I was conditioned to believe what I was told. I was trained to become a killer, a man made of stone, willing to do anything to survive in a family of evil. I took their punishments and endured the pain because they inadvertently gave me reason to live and gave me Sienna. While I’ve spent years tormenting myself about my feelings toward her, hating how monstrous it made me feel, I never questioned them; I trusted them.

I trusted him.

“She’s not my sister.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I grind it out with as much malice as I feel.

His shoulders sag as he steps into the room, a gun in one hand and his free hand twitching to release his knife, a tell I’ve mastered.

I tilt my head toward the bar, and his dark eyes follow my movement. He shakes his head, and the lines on his sharp face are etched in sorrow. He thinks this is the end of me, but he’s wrong. This is only my beginning.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Stone

Azrael stares back at me as I raise the glass to my lips, then he swallows hard before he clears his throat. “I saw the way you looked at one another.”

I bite into the side of my cheek, refraining from speaking when I have so much to say.

He chuckles, but it lacks humor. “You were in love with her.” His eyes settle on mine. “And she you.” Heat fills my cheeks at hearing someone say they witnessed our intimate moments when I always thought we were being so careful. “You couldn’t be in love with your sister, Stone.”

Fury flares inside me, and the pain in the side of my temple causes me to react when I’ve always been so controlled. “She wasn’t my fucking sister!” I throw my glass at the wall.

Azrael remains unmoving. “She had to be. Don’t you fucking see?”

My heart hammers.

“She had to be. If we were anything else but your family, you were dead.” The stark realization of his words settles square inthe chest. Of course, I knew this, but hearing it hits differently. “If you were taken away, then she had nothing to live for either.” He swallows harshly. “You brought my sister light. She fed off the darkness we were born into because she had you. I didn’t want to destroy her.”

“You married her off,” I sneer. “You married her off! You fucking took her from me.” Then I shake my head as I try but fail to rid my heart of the pain that lances up my body into my forehead.

He steps forward. “I had no choice. None.” His gruff voice is full of grit and anger, full of hate. “If I didn’t marry her off to someone of my choosing, our father would have chosen. You think he would have picked someone as soft as Jeremy?” He crooks his eyebrow. “Huh? You think he would have picked someone capable of giving Sienna freedom? Would he have chosen someone with no interest in her at all, like she had no interest in him?”

His words startle me, and I reel back. “What?”

“You think I didn’t pick him purposely, Stone?” He drags a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “I chose him because he didn’t want her. It was the best chance she would have at being happy.”

My anger ebbs and makes room for a new emotion. Gratitude?

“Have you asked her if she was forced to take part in the evening marital ceremony?” He’s referring to the tradition of delivering the bloody virginal sheets after the wedding night. “Of course she didn’t. It was a stipulation on Jeremy’s part.” Like a predator watching his prey, he eyes me carefully. “A suggested stipulation,” he tacks on. Has she not slept with him at all?

He swallows hard again. “Where is she?”

I tip my head toward the foyer. “Upstairs.”

He gives me a nod, and I know this is when he’s going to kill me; I see it in his eyes. Guilt leaks from them, and he blinks, asif banishing the thoughts and allowing his training to take over. I’m no longer his brother. I’m his enemy. “I’ll take care of her,” he whispers, and raises his gun.

Before his gun points at my head, there’s a soft click of one behind his. “Drop it,” Finn whispers. Then a knife appears at Azrael’s throat, and Azrael decides not to pull out his knife and drops his gun to the floor. It skitters along the marble tiles, out of his reach.

I stand to my full height while Finn restrains Azrael’s hands behind his back, and the doors to the study burst open.

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