Page 137 of Ruthless God

Alyssa lets out a bitter laugh. “Too bad love and hate aren’t all that different sometimes.”

The words settle over the room, heavy because they’re true. I think of my mother. I think of the rage that still lingers in my gut, and the ache that comes with it. Because I don’t just hate her. I still want something from her. And I hate that I do.

I swallow hard, voice quiet. “Did she ever try to leave him?”

Alyssa shakes her head. “No. Not once.”

Bonnie whispers, “Because she was never allowed to.”

And just like that, I understand her more than I ever expected to.

“Girls, I’d like to speak to you.”

We all freeze like we’ve just been caught sneaking out after curfew. Their mother stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable, her posture perfect. Not a single hair out of place. Oh, crap. How much did she hear?

But she doesn’t look at me. Not once. Her gaze is locked only on her daughters.

“Alone,” she adds in a smooth, controlled tone.

Like she already expects obedience.

Alyssa’s jaw tightens, but she says nothing. Bonnie glances at me, uncertain. I don’t wait for their mother to acknowledge me because I know she won’t.

I stand.

“I should go.” My voice is casual, like I don’t feel the weight of what just happened. I force a small smile. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Bonnie’s lips part like she wants to say something, but Alyssa nudges her, giving me the smallest nod. I take the out. Because no matter how much I like my half-sisters, this is a conversation I don’t belong in.

I slip past their mother, her perfume sharp in my nose, her presence icy and immovable. She doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t acknowledge me at all.

But I get it now. She doesn’t hate me. She hates what I represent. And I can respect that.

I make my way toward Claudius’ wing, but my steps slow. Because suddenly, I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. I don’t want to sit in silence, replaying that woman’s cold dismissal in my head. I need to do something. To take control of something. I’m sick of being ignored. Sick of being left out. Sick of feeling like I’m just waiting for the next blow.

I exhale sharply, making my decision. I’m going to find my father and get some fucking answers.

I find Blanc exactly where I expect him. Sitting at the bar in the study. He has a drink in hand, his shoulders tense, his eyes dark with thoughts he hasn’t shared with anyone.

I step inside, the click of my sandals snapping him out of whatever daze he’s in.

He glances at me, expression unreadable. “Cecely.”

I don’t hesitate. “Why am I really here?”

His brows lift slightly. “Excuse me?”

I cross my arms, holding his gaze steady.

“Don’t bullshit me. This isn’t just about Gabriel. Or safety.” I pause, let the words sink in. Then I hit him where it matters. “And it sure as hell isn’t about family.”

His jaw tightens. Good.

I step forward.

“So tell me the real reason you finally decided to acknowledge me.”

His grip on his glass tightens. He doesn’t answer right away. But that’s fine. Because I’m not leaving until he does. Blanc takes a slow sip of his drink, stalling. I don’t move. I don’t blink. I just wait. And when he finally speaks, I know it’s a distraction.

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