Page 9 of Goldflame

I swallowed my drink in one gulp. As the whiskey burned my throat, I forced a laugh and said, “I’ll kill him as soon as you’re in power.” My brother had always been uptight and obedient to Lucian, so I made my statement sound like a joke. But everyone knows jokes are only the truth in disguise.

I expected a stern look. A lecture about family loyalty or some bullshit about maintaining appearances. Instead, Adrian’s lips curved at the corners into what I swore was satisfaction. His blue eyes—same as mine, same as our father’s—held a sheen I’d never noticed before.

“Is that so?” He took a slow sip, considering. “And how would you do it?”

I hadn’t been prepared for that question, and it hungbetween us like smoke. For a moment, I saw something shift in the way he carried himself. A crack in his role as the perfect son. His whole demeanor changed—subtle, but there. The way his shoulders relaxed slightly, how his fingers loosened their perpetual death grip on his whiskey glass.

But that was impossible. Adrian was Lucian’s faithful soldier. He dated Aurelia just to keep her safe from our father’s attention, always the noble protector, and he never once indicated he wanted the old man gone.

Did he?

“A bullet between the eyes,” I finally said.

My brother grunted, finished his drink, then left.

At the time, I dismissed the entire exchange as a hallucination from getting punched in the head too many times.

Now, staring into my drink in my mother’s bedroom, that memory haunts me. What secrets did my brother have? Had he been the best actor of us all?

I suppose it’s useless to think about now. He’s…

Fuck, I can’t even think it.

It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, only that he’s in his room or off completing some mission for Lucian. Fucking some whore. That he’ssomewherein the world. Alive.

But I know that’s a delusion—my own desperate need.

He’s dead. I saw his lifeless body myself.

I down more alcohol, hoping it will kick in soon so I can black out.

“You must be ruthless,” my mother is saying. I think she’s been talking this entire time, but I’ve been spacing out. I glance at her just as she says, “Like you’re fath?—”

“Don’t fucking say it!” I shout at her.

She doesn’t flinch and, fuck, it makes me feel likehimfor a second. The bastard was always yelling at her. Hitting her. She’s become skilled at not reacting, at not giving him more reasons to abuse her.

I set my glass down with an exhale. “I’m… sorry. I’m sorry I raised my voice. But I’m not like him.”

Her warm arms wrap around me as she cradles my head to her shoulder. “I know, dear. I know.”

“I’llneverfucking be like him.”

“Shhh.”

I sag against her, welcoming the soft embrace as the first buzzing sensation from the bourbon works its way through my limbs. Lucian… I’ll get revenge for his death. Not because I gave two shits about the bastard—I want revenge on the person who took awaymykill.

I needed to kill Lucian and some dick from Victoria’s family stole that from me. Left me with an empty need I can never fill. Lucian’s killer also needs to die for the principle of the matter—no one kills a Harrow and gets away with it.

Not Lucian’s killer. Not Aurelia.

I’ll get the truth from her, by any means necessary. Maybe Adrian’s death really was an accident. And if it wasn’t well… I’ll deal with that later.

I sway, my mother keeping me balanced. The alcohol has a strong grip on me now, my senses numbing. Mom guides me to the bed and we both sit.

“Adrian’s coronation was supposed to happen on the twentieth,” she says softly, letting me position myself on the bed so I can lay my head in her lap. She strokes myhair. “Now that he’s gone, you must lead what’s left of our family. What’s left of the family business. Get revenge for your dear, misguided brother.”

Everything is slowing, the edge of my eyesight turning to fuzz as the damn thoughts in my head finally stop circling me like vultures. The room spins a little and it’s comforting.

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