Page 75 of Ruthless King
After everything he’s done to me. Everything I’ve been through since his return.
I deserve to see him now, no matter the reasons.
Or so I tell myself.
And there is one place he would go—the one structure haunting us both.
25
DON
Havienna laughs as I approach, the place where everything began. Once my haven, these old stone walls were the last place I experienced my family intact—and the hell where I watched it fall apart. And now? This house is the very purgatory where my Safiya returned with a vengeance.
It’s an irony even someone as twisted as Antonio Salvatore couldn’t devise. The little cub grew into a tiger, and she got the revenge her parents could only dream of.
Damn her.
Damn…
As the moon rises high in the sky, I park near the abandoned garage behind the house and climb out, staggering toward the old structure. All it contains now are canisters of lighter fluid and dust-covered wood for the fireplace.
With the liquor bottle from Salvatore’s in hand, I head for the house, leaving the car behind without even looking at the trunk.
This damn house. It mocks me as I enter through the kitchen in utter darkness. Even after seven years, I know the floor plan by heart. This modest room with its old appliances was where Olivia spent more time burning our meals than preparing them. Still, it was in her nature to try something over and over until she succeeded.
Safiya was the same way. She excelled at proving wrong anyone foolish enough to doubt her. And yet, at her core, she was sweet. Kind. A girl who strived for peace above all else. Vin, as good as he was, could be stubborn, prone to grudges from time to time.
But never her. Not Safiya.
At least, until now.
I don’t think I’ve fully let myself process it. I haven’t pored over the mental image of her all grown up, trying to compare it to the little girl I knew.
With the speed of an old man, I move to the staircase and climb it, wincing at the memories. Her room was the last on the left, beside Vin’s.
My heavy breathing echoes in the air as I curl my hand around the doorknob. Turn it. Push it open.
A cloud of dust swirls to lift, illuminated by a stream of moonlight. I don’t bother to switch on a lamp. Even in the darkness, I can tell it’s the same. Her pink walls. The wooden bed frame pushed against the wall. Her nightstand—even her old bell is there, something Vin devised for if she needed help, and no one was in view.
But that’s all that remains of her. Everything else I had packed up. I had been too much of a coward to do it myself, assigning Fabio to the task.
All of her books, her toys, her little dresses. Gone.
And, like the pathetic son of a bitch that I am, I wish I had them now. Something to tie me to that lost little girl, my Safiya.
Something tangible to torture myself over.
As it stands, I only have my own fucking memories. With a sigh, I raise the bottle I took from Salvatore’s. Crouching on the edge of the tiny bed frame, I drink.
And drink.
Intoxication isn’t the aim this time—just relief. Numbing myself numbs those memories of her, if only for a second.
But this place persists, driving the past into my skull despite my blurring vision and fractured thoughts.
My girl. My sweet, innocent Safy.
I will never forget the look on her face the day I left her behind.
