Page 1 of Unspoken Lies
PROLOGUE
IGNACIO
Staring at the lime green paint stripe across from me with unfocused eyes, I listen to the door of my new cage as it slams shut.
Prison. Fuck.
I knew this was a possibility for moving against my best friends, my brothers in arms, my lovers. The Carlysle Kings. It’s always been us against the world.
Until her.
My stepsister has never done anything that we expected her to. She didn’t back down when we pushed, in fact she just regrouped and kept going. We weren’t expecting her.
Fuck, I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with her either. That’s for damn sure.
Liliana and Rachelle are my curve balls in this life, and I had to listen to the former cry during my trial while I was accused and charged with the murder of our girlfriend. I didn’t do it.
In fact, I did everything I could to save her. Yet, she's gone and I’m in this cell while her murderers walk free.
Their fingerprints weren’t on the shovels, mine were. No one saw them in the woods, but eyewitnesses appeared out of nowhere, begging to speak against me. And then Rachelle died in the hospital, and the doctor even spoke at my trial about everything that had been done to her as an expert witness for the prosecution.
Life isn’t fair, and I wouldn’t let my father save me from this. His eyes filled with tears as he watched me go, knowing this is the twist of fate no one saw coming.
I need a place to mourn and plot my revenge, so I can destroy the boys I once called mine.
CHAPTER 1
LILIANA
Gracias a dios. It feels odd to be thanking God after He took my heart and loves from me, but if I had to spend one more second at Carlysle Prep School, I think I would be forced to use my own gun on myself.
I don’t say that lightly, either. My world feels bleak and sad, and watching officers take Nacio away from me felt like a punch to the gut. My father and Mr. Emil had to hold me up while I broke down in the courtroom at the sentencing… and then I shut it all off afterward.
I won’t be weak or allow others to see my sadness. The Carlysle Kings that remain don’t deserve to laugh at my losses, and I damn sure don’t want to share the weight of it.
“Fucking free,” I mutter, walking down the steps on the last day of senior year. I won’t be returning for the graduation ceremony, and my father fully supports this decision.
I finished, that’s all he’s ever wanted for me. This high school diploma that will open doors no other school will allow meaccess to. I’m going to go to college if I have to, and then I’m returning to take my place in the family business.
It’s my legacy, and there’s no one to tether my sanity to anymore. I may as well allow my father’s depravity to eat what’s left of my soul. My sadness has quickly turned to righteous fury, and Dad has allowed me to help him with some of the executions he does for Mr. Emil.
I know Mr. Emil doesn’t like it, but I’m walking a razor sharp tightrope of grief. Is this why Rachelle used to cut herself? Did her life feel as if it was moving spirally like a top that’ll never fall?
Blowing out a breath as I walk across the parking lot, I raise my hand in acknowledgment of those saying goodbye. It’s clear to everyone that I’m not the same. Even running the newspaper as the editor fell flat for me after losing Rachelle and Nacio within hours of each other.
When the hospital pronounced her dead, the cops picked Nacio up soon after, and then things moved so quickly that my head is still spinning. My father said that court cases don’t typically move as fast as Nacio’s did. This was personal, a cover up for a botched murder.
So now, he’s rotting in prison and ignoring my letters, tearstained as they are. I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t write them at all if it didn’t feel so wrong not to. They help me feel connected to something, anything.
Fuck, everything feels upside down. I knew there was a chance of losing Rachelle with everything she was up against with the Kings. I was just hoping that we’d be able to outsmart them.
Unicorns don’t exist, and love makes you break. That’s what I learned from this experience. It sucks, and the pain is so bad that I often can’t breathe.
So I pretend, and force myself to push through when the black spots fill my vision. It’s almost become a game to see how long I can go.
See how fucked I am?
“Lili!”
