Page 64 of Ruthless God

“Is that your father?” I ask, tilting my head.

Claudius doesn’t even look at it. “Yes.”

I study the features. Sharp jaw, stony expression, that same intensity lurking behind his eyes.

“You look a lot like him.”

He hums, a low, almost amused sound. “There’s a younger version of me that’s howling in rage at that statement.”

“I take it you weren’t close?”

His entire demeanor shifts. The lightness, if it was ever there, vanishes. His jaw tightens.

“No.” The word is clipped. Final. “We weren’t.”

There’s something buried in those two words, something bitter, something sharp. I should let it go. But I don’t.

Because if Claudius Irons, who is cold, unshakable, always in control, can still bristle at the memory of his father?

Then whoever that man was?

He must’ve been a monster.

I don’t realize I’ve spoken aloud until Claudius answers.

His voice is quiet, but there’s a weight behind it. A truth too heavy to be ignored.

“He was.”

A chill creeps down my spine.

He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t fill the silence with unnecessary words.

But then, after a beat, he says, “And he taught Gabriel everything he knew.”

My breath catches.

A slow, cold understanding settles into my bones.

I look at the portrait again, at the man who shaped them both—one son dead, one standing in front of me, and a ghost who might still be out there, hunting me.

And suddenly, I’m not sure which of them is more dangerous.

14

Claudius

I watch as Cecely pales. Good. She should be scared.

The truth isn’t pretty, and if she’s just now realizing the depth of the world she’s been dragged into, then she’s already too late to escape it.

But then she moves. Instead of retreating…instead of shrinking into herself…she wanders the room, her gaze moving over the ornate furniture, the grand fireplace, the shadowed corners. Like she’s mapping it out. Looking for something.

It gives me a moment to really take her in.

She’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Simple and nothing extravagant. But on her, even something that basic looks irresistible. Because it’s not just what she’s wearing. It’s the way she moves. There’s an unconscious grace, a temptation in the curve of her body, in the way her hips shift with every step.

She’s not trying to be enticing. Which, of course, makes it even more tempting.

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