Page 66 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

Silence settles over the room, thick and heavy.

Damien lowers the phone, checking the video before giving a satisfied nod. “That’ll do.”

Vincent exhales, lowering the gun, his gaze still fixed on hisfather’s lifeless form.

“Congratulations,” I murmur, clapping him on the shoulder. “You just killed the man who made you.”

Vincent blinks, then lets out a small, breathy laugh, wiping a speck of blood from his cheek. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Guess I did.”

“Once your grandfather finds out, you’ll be a rich man.” I comment, looking over at a sobbing Angie.

Angie scrambles back on the bed, her tear-streaked face twisted in pure terror. She looks between me, Vincent, and Damien, like she’s trying to decide who’s the worst monster in the room.

Bad news for her—we all are.

I crouch down, resting my forearms on my knees, watching her with a lazy, detached smile. “You don’t have to look so scared, Angie,” I murmur, reaching out to grab her ankle before she can retreat any further. She freezes, a sharp, panicked breath leaving her lips. “We’re not gonna kill you.” I squeeze just hard enough to feel her pulse hammering beneath my fingertips. “Unless you give us a reason to.”

She whimpers, shaking her head furiously, tears dripping down her chin.

Vincent steps beside me, his movements slow, calculated. He’s still holding the gun, though now it dangles loosely at his side, his suit splattered with his father’s blood. He studies Angie with the kind of cold detachment that makes my skin hum with satisfaction.

“I should kill you,” Vincent says, his voice eerily calm. “For everything you let him do. For standing by and watching.”

Angie flinches, her breath coming out in panickedgasps.

Vincent exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he’s disgusted. “But I won’t.” He crouches beside me, grabbing her chin roughly and forcing her to look at him. “Not for their sake.”

She trembles under his touch, lips parting in a silent plea.

“My siblings,” Vincent clarifies, his fingers digging into her jaw. “They didn’t ask for this. They didn’t ask to be raised by a man like him or a coward like you. I’ll take care of them.” His voice darkens, eyes flashing with warning. “But if you ever—ever—try to come for Willow or me again, I’ll kill you on sight.”

A strangled sob escapes her, her shoulders shaking violently.

Vincent holds her gaze for a moment longer, then releases her roughly, letting her fall back onto the bed in a crumpled heap. “Stay the fuck out of my way.”

I push off my knees, glancing at Damien, who already has his phone to his ear.

“Yeah,” he says into the receiver, voice cool and businesslike. “Body in room 708, Regency Hotel. Clean it up. Make it disappear.” A pause. “Ten minutes.”

He hangs up without waiting for a response, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Time to go,” he announces, already heading for the door.

Vincent takes one last look at his father’s corpse, then at Angie, still crying, curled into herself like she can make herself small enough to disappear.

“What now?” he asks, sliding his clean hands into his pockets as we enter the elevator.

Damien leans back against the wall. “Now?” He glances between the both of us, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “We go see the woman we love enough to kill for.”

I grin, leaning back against the seat, letting my head fall against the headrest.

Willow.

The only person who matters.

The only person worth all this blood.

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