Page 214 of Sinful Pleasure

My father had used them as pawns— shields to protect his own miserable life.

But I’m not my father. Not anymore.

I want to be better. No more fear, no more bloodshed, no more pain.

It didn’t take long before the first gun hit the ground. One by one, the pistols dropped, echoing in the stillness.

A symbol of surrender. A symbol of victory. My victory.

I let out a breath, not realizing I’d been holding it all this time. The relief was almost overwhelming, but I couldn’t dwell on it.

Not yet.

I walked down the stairs, tossing the bloody knife aside, letting it clatter against the floor.

The men parted, making way for me like I was their King.

But as I looked around at the carnage—so many bodies lying in pools of blood—my jaw clenched.

All of this, all this suffering, it was because of him.

And then my gaze landed on her.

Lydia.

Her lifeless body lay among the fallen, a bullet lodged in her chest. Her eyes were wide open, staring into nothingness, her once-glorious white hair now tangled around her pale face.

I dropped to my knees beside her, my heart hammering in my chest as I reached for her cold, lifeless hand.

She was gone. She never fucking deserved this.

Lydia had been a part of this twisted world for so long, a victim of our father, just like me.

I hit the ground hard, the weight of my emotions crashing down on me. Anger and grief twisted together inside my chest.

Lydia’s body lay still, her death just another mark on the long list of sins my father had committed.

He’d brainwashed her. Turned her into another one of his puppets.

And in the end, she paid the price for his manipulation.

She deserved so much more than this.

I sighed, my breath shaky, as I gently closed her eyes, letting her rest in peace.

“I’m sorry, little sister,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I caressed her cold cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Lydia wasn’t a bad person. She was broken—just like me. She had been twisted by my father’s lies and power until she had no choice but to follow his path.

I had found salvation in Allyn— she helped me see the light again.

But Lydia wasn’t so lucky. She was lost, and she paid the ultimate price.

I kissed her forehead one last time, feeling the weight of what we had both lost. And then, with one last glance at my sister’s body, I stood up.

Turning to my soldiers, I found the strength to speak.

“Take her and my father’s body,” I ordered, my voice barely above a whisper. “Bury them next to my mother.”

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