Page 145 of Empire of Ache & Ruin

I love you, Archer.

Even if he didn’t say it back, earlier when I finally uttered those three words, I know he loves me too. It’s why he came for me, why he risked his life to get me out of here. He loves me as much as I do him.

Archer, please don’t be dead. I don’t think I can survive any of this without you.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Hunter grips my arm tighter, brushing his lips over my cheek and the corner of my mouth.

“Don’t touch me.” I taste bile in the back of my throat.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Our time will come sooner than you think.” Hunter presses his lips to mine so hard, myown teeth cut my bottom lip.

He pulls back, and I punch him in the face. “You disgust me. You shot Archer in the back, you fucking coward,” I scream at him.

“Shh.” He slaps his hand over my mouth, picks me up by the waist, and shoves me in the cellar room. “He had it coming. And you know that. Since he arrived, he’s been a thorn in my side. He took you from me. You were mine.”

“You didn’t have to kill him,” I yell at him. “And I was never yours. He’s going to come back for me. And when he does, he’s going to make you pay.”

“Enough.” Dad strides in and locks the door behind him. “What the hell happened?”

“You asked me to bring her back.” Hunter points at me. “I did what I had to do.”

“He killed Archer.” I launch at Hunter, punching and scratching.

“I said enough.” Dad grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. “Go make sure he’s dead and get rid of the body.” Dad’s cold voice sends a shiver down my spine. He waits until Hunter is gone, then turns to me. “I told you. You didn’t have to go back to that man.”

“Archer is my husband. And I love him. You can’t keep me here. He will come for me.” I wipe my cheeks then realize my hands are covered in his blood.

I glare at it as more bits and pieces of my recurring nightmare flicker in my head. It’s been so long since the last time I had any night terrors. But seeing Archer unconscious on the asphalt, bleeding to death, seems to have unlocked all those scary scenes from my dreams. The dark shadows and faces are becoming clearer and clearer.

“You’re staying with me and that’s final, Paloma.” Dad makes to leave.

“You don’t get to give me orders anymore. You’re a liar.” I glare at him with all the contempt I can muster. I hate him for what he did to Archer’s dad. He killed a man and stole everything from him. “And a killer.”

“What did you just say?” Dad stops with his hand on the door handle.

When he turns to look at me, shadows dance on his face, making him look menacing. This is the real him—a man willing to kill to appease his greed.

“I hate you.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “You killed his father. And for what?” I gesture toward the upstairs. “Money? Sex parties? What? What is more important than a human life?”

“Everything.” He raises his voice to a thunderous level that startles me. The fury in his eyes makes me take a step back. He prowls toward me. “You have no idea what it takes to survive in our world. You’re spoiled and fragile. You’ll never know what I’ve had to do to protect you.”

“I know what you did.” I swallow. “You killed Archer’s father. One day soon, you will answer for your crimes one way or another. Archer will make you pay.”

Dad slaps me hard across the face. I stumble back, but he grabs me by the hair and slams me against a rack of wine. Bottles tumble over and crash on the cement floor. The red liquid splatters everywhere along with shards of glass. More images from my nightmares flicker in my head. The wine inches toward me. I try to get away from it, but it still reaches my ballet shoes, staining them. My hands shake while I stare at all the blood.

“I gave you everything any girl could ever dream of—a first-rate education, the best tutors, the latest fashions, rare diamonds, a mansion.” He stops to inhale then yells in my face, “I made you the Swan Queen.”

“I never asked for any of it.” In truth, all I ever wanted was his love. I worked myself to the bone to be the best dancer for him.

“And this is the payment I get?” He points down at me and the mess around me as if the broken glass is my fault. “I am your father, Paloma. Do you understand? You will show me respect.” He grabs my arm and pulls me off the floor, so I look him in the eyes. Then, he wraps his fingers around my throat. “You look so much like your mother. I’d hoped you wouldn’t turn out like her. But I was wrong.” He squeezes until I’m gasping for air. “Who is Archer? What the hell did he tell you about me?”

“You killed his father,” I say, though my words are barely audible.

“Archer is Edward’s son?” He releases me.

My knee gives out from under me. I drop to the floor, coughing and fighting to catch my breath. A part of me had hoped Dad would deny it all. That he would tell me that it was all a misunderstanding, that he would never take a life. But instead, he’s towering over me, calculating his next move. And I realize, this is how Dad operates. He’s always looking for a way to blame his shortcomings on others. I’ve always known this, but it hurt too much to see it. This time, though, he’s gone too far. He killed a man in cold blood. It’s impossible to look the other way and pretend the man in front of me isn’t an absolute monster.

Archer was only ten years old when Dad set his house on fire and left them all to die. Dad walked away and just let it all burn. What kind of monster does that?

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