Page 83 of Brutal King

“Upstairs, on the balcony. There’s a name carved there.”

“Oh. shit, I completely forgot about that.” Scarlet chuckles.

Sofia stares at her, her lips parted, disbelief written all over her face. “You’re… alive.”

“Uh…” Scarlet seems as confused as I am.

“Excuse me.” Sofia storms out.

“What the hell was that about?” Scarlet asks. “Should I feel guilty that I’m living?”

“Eat your steak and go home. We’ll talk later.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

I make to follow Sofia, but pause at the doorway. “I’m not letting this go, Scar. If I see another cut?—”

“You won’t.”

Fisting my hands, I nod. She’s made this promise before, but breaks it every time.

I chase after Sofia. She’s already on the second level and going higher by the second.

“Stop,” I call to her, but she ignores me, putting more speed into her step. “Sofia!”

She’s gone by the time I reach the third floor. I go to her room, but she isn’t there. Then I remember what she said.The Scarlet from the balustrade.

I reverse course and find her in the room that was once mine. She’s standing beyond the French doors, on the balcony, her gaze affixed on the balustrade.

Stopping beside her, I peer at her finger as she traces something carved into the cement.Scarlet Was Here. Tears drop onto the words and I look up to see her crying.

“For a moment, I thought you were jealous,” I say. “But it’s not that at all, is it?”

She sniffs. “She was my friend.”

“Scarlet?”

“I thought…” She shakes her head. “I thought she was a ghost in this house. That you killed her and her ghost lingered. I’m such a fool!”

I chuckle. “As much as I’d love to strangle her sometimes, I could never kill her.”

“Then who is she? Why did she carve her name? She wanted someone to know she’d lived. She didn’t want to be forgotten!”

Leaning over the rail, I peer out into the darkness. How much do I tell her? Does it matter if I tell her the whole of it? Will it give her something to use against me if she knows?

“Scarlet is my sister, Sofia. Not blood, but made. I took her in when she was fifteen and I was eighteen. But my father was still alive and he would never have accepted her.”

“Why?”

“Because family is vulnerability. You know that.”

She nods. “Like I am to Luca.”

“Yes.” I reach over and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You’re not a fool, Sofia. Scarlet was hunted. She lived in hiding for a long time.”

“You said you took her in?”

“Mmm.” I decide it worth the risk if it means erasing some of the hurt from her eyes. She had an idea of who Scarlet was, and I’ve somehow robbed her of it.

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