Page 67 of Ruthless God

“He had to be stopped.”

Cecely doesn’t blink. Instead, she leans forward even more, eyes locked onto mine.

“That’s vague.”

I exhale smoke, watching as it drifts between us. “That’s the truth.”

“Okay, so you saw him fall because you pushed him.” Her voice is calm and even. “Are you the one who recovered his body?”

My eyebrow lifts. “What kind of question is that?”

“Don’t act shocked.” She leans back, crossing her legs, her expression unreadable. “You just told me you killed someone.”

I say nothing.

She says, “Humor me. I’m establishing a timeline.”

I take another slow pull from my cigar, letting the smoke curl through the air before answering.

“His body wasn’t recovered for a few days.”

“Why?”

I exhale sharply, irritation curling at the edges of my voice. “Jesus, woman. Do you hear yourself?”

Her expression remains unmoved. “It’s a reasonable question, Claudius.”

And just like that, something shifts. Hearing my name on her lips does something to me. Something I shouldn’t like. But I do. It slithers under my skin, settling somewhere dark and dangerous.

I take another drag from my cigar, masking the way my pulse kicks up, the way my muscles tense in ways that have nothing to do with anger.

This woman…she’s going to be a problem.

Finally, I say, “His body wasn’t recovered because I pushed him off the cliff during a storm.”

Her lips part, questions already forming, accusations maybe, but I hold up a hand, cutting them off before they can leave her mouth.

“The night he died, we were fighting. I told him he needed to stop.” A sharp flash of memory dances through my mind. Gabriel’s eyes burning with fury, the rain drenching us, the wind howling like a beast. “He challenged me to a duel.”

Her brows furrow, but she stays silent, letting me speak.

“We both agreed to meet on the cliff where one of us wouldn’t be leaving.”

The words come out matter-of-fact, as if they don’t carry the weight of years of conditioning. Because that’s what it was. Just the way dear-old-dad always had us solve our problems. A fight to the death, wrapped up in honor and blood. The only difference? This time, he wasn’t there to make sure Gabriel lived. And I wonder… If he had been, would I be the one who went over the edge instead?

I know the answer. I would have. It’s the same way I got the scar on my face. The same way I have countless burns on myback. My father did whatever it took to protect Gabriel. Even dying for him.

“I can still hear his screams, you know?” The words slip out quieter than I expect. Not weak—never weak—but weighted. Heavy. “The way our eyes locked as he fell.”

For a moment, I’m not here. I’m back on that cliff. Rain pounding against my skin. Wind roaring in my ears. And Gabriel— His face twisted in rage, in shock, in something I still can’t fucking name.

I let out a bitter laugh, one that tastes like ash and regret.

“Fuck. It felt like it took forever for him to hit the water.”

I can still see it. His body twisting midair, arms outstretched, gravity swallowing him whole. And then he was gone. Taken by the waves.

She says my name. Softly. “Claudius?—”

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