Page 126 of Brutal King

God, the things I did to her. The things I made her do. All so she would want to be with me. So that she would love me.I made myself all she had.

“…it’s called Stockholm Syndrome, actually. It’s what happens when someone is captured and develops feelings for their captor.” That’s what Sofia said to me. It was meant to be funny, I’m sure, but it rang so true, it was a shock to my system.

“My sister makes me crazy,” Luca admits. “She drove Pops mad, then Tony. Now it’s me. I do everything in my power to protect her, and she fights me every step of the way. But I’d still give my life for her. In a heartbeat.” He turns to me, his gaze as intense as Sofia’s. “When we go for her, there’s a chance I won’t come back. There’s a possibility I’ll die and you will live.”

“I’d give my life for her too.”

He narrows his gaze on me. “There’s just one thing I can’t figure. How she fits in all this. What is it that you needed her for? Because you never asked for anything in trade.”

I take in our surroundings. “When I discovered it was your uncle that killed Tony, I sent Scarlet to killhim. But he told her he was in possession of something I’d be interested in. In exchange for his life, he gave me his property.”

Luca frowns. “He had a house in Italy.”

“Not that one. Briar House. It was under his name.”

“You own Briar House.” He remains quiet for a long while. “I assumed it was part of the estate still in probate. The attorney didn’t inform me.”

“He didn’t have to. As long as I let you live here, you never had to know that ownership had been transferred.” I shift and grimace, my arm and side still incredibly sore. Not to mention the other parts of me bullets grazed. “I was going to usethatas leverage against you. It was never going to be Sofia. She isn’t a pawn.”

He searches my face for something and must find it because he nods. “Regardless, I want you to swear to me that when this is all over, you will let her go. She deserves better than whatever you have to offer her and you know it. The baby deserves better.”

“It’s my child.”

“And you are your father’s son.”

His words aren’t said with cruelty, but with truth. Yet, they sink into me like a thousand cuts that rob me of breath.

I want to rebel against his wishes, but my lips remain clamped shut because he’s right. Sofia and my child deserve better. I am Stephen Black’s son.

For as long as I’ve had Sofia, I’ve sworn there was nothing in the world that could ever make me let her go. Except there is whenI’mthe danger to her.

“Everything all right?” Rowan steps out the front door. He glances between Luca and me suspiciously.

“Everything’s fine,” I tell him. “Luca and I just struck a deal.”

33

SOFIA

Gideon is dead.

I cry for hours after they throw me in my old suite. It’s as if I’m dying too, except, the torture doesn’t end. The man I love has been torn from me and the hole he’s left behind is too great.

There isn’t enough oxygen in the room to fill the void in my chest. I lay in bed and clutch at my heart, wishing I could tear it out too.

I’ve had loss before. Mom. Pops. Tony. But when they died, it wasn’t like this. It was sad and terrible. This loss, however, is guttural. It goes beyond anything I’ve ever felt.

I want to die too. I want to be with him.

Burying my face in the pillow, I scream. Because I can’t die. I have to live for my baby. For Gideon’s baby.

Sleep eventually overtakes me, but it’s restless and full of nightmares where Gideon is dying over and over again. By the time morning comes, I’m more tired than I’ve been in a long time.

There’s a knock at the door and it opens enough for someone to shove a plate full of eggs inside. I consider leaving them there to rot, but remember that I must remain strong.

I grab the plate and set it on the bed, forcing myself to eat. At least I’m not sitting at the table with Gideon’s murderer.

How could anyone do that to their own son? I don’t know everything, but Gideon shared enough with me to understand what’s happened. Stephen betrayed him. He killed his mother and raised him to become just like him. To finish the job he’d started, so that he could then swoop in and take it all back.

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