Page 71 of The Kings
Dad meets my gaze, unflinching, and nods once, ready to unfold yet another dark chapter in the Hughes family saga. “Felix.”
‘Unapologetic’ doesn’t even begin to cover the cool detachment in his voice. He might as well be discussing the weather, not dropping life-altering bombs about secret siblings.
“Seriously? Felix?” I scoff, incredulous.
He stands there, stoic as a statue, the epitome of mob royalty in his tailored suit that screams power and danger.
“Elizabeth,” he starts, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“No, I want to know why—why keep it from me?” My eyes narrow as I study his face, searching for any hint of guilt or regret. I find none, and it burns like acid in my veins. “Why would you do that?”
Dad’s expression remains unchanged, unfazed by my turmoil. He’s seen and done too much in his life for this shit to shake him. His composure is maddening, but also something I strive for. Seeing him with his don’t-give-a-fuck attitude forces me to calm my tits and take a deep breath.
“Mostly, I did it to protect you. Your legacy, your future—I couldn’t let anything jeopardise that. Not even Felix. His hatred is… well, you saw.”
“Yeah, I fucking didsee. He tried to kill me. He’s been stalking me and everyone on campus, trying to make a power play. He wants what I have, doesn’t he?” It’s obvious Dad knows what happened at his house, saw it on the security footage, probably from Paris. It’s why he didn’t pick up; he was on his way back.
“Seems so,” he answers, cool as steel.
“Seems so,” I repeat, my tone matching his. “And you failed towarnme about this.”
His eyes narrow as my attitude is edging really close to his back-up and shut-up zone. But not this time.
“Damn it, Dad!” I push back against the swell of emotions, the hurt slicing through me sharper than any blade. “How long have you known about Felix? How many years did you lie to my face?”
Dad’s face changes, like he’s peeling back a layer of that hard mafia boss exterior. His eyes, usually as cold as the steel of Felicity’s blade, soften with something that looks almost like regret. “Lizzie,” he starts, his voice low and heavy with an emotion I can’t quite place, shivering at the nickname he usedwhen I was a child. “I should have been straight with you from the start. But I only got wind of Felix a few weeks ago.”
I stare at him, trying to process his words through the racket of thoughts raging in my head. A part of me wants to believe him, but trust doesn’t come easy in our world. It’s a fragile thing, easily shattered by lies and secrets.
The proof is right here in front of me.
“Only a few weeks?” I repeat, sceptically. “And you thought what? That it was best to keep me in the dark?” I narrow my eyes, the weight of the revelation sinking into my chest like a stone. “How did you not know you had a son?”
Dad’s face is a mask of indifference again, the cool facade of a man who’s gambled with fates and fortunes all his life. “It was the night before I met your mother,” he begins, his voice even, betraying no emotion. “A one-night stand…”
“Fuck, eww,” I groan, and he rolls his eyes.
“… because when I saw your mother the following day, I knew she was the one I wanted by my side, the one to wear the Hughes name.”
A lump forms in my throat as images of my mother flash through my mind—her bright smile, her unwavering strength, how she held our world together with an ironclad will. I blink rapidly, pushing back the tears that threaten to spill over. But I push it all aside to deal with the matter at hand.
Fucking Felix.
“So you know about the break-in while you were in Paris?”
“Of course I did. I came here directly to deal with it.”
“Right.” I sniff, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “Peace offerings and family secrets. Just another day in the Hughes empire, hmm?” My attempt at humour falls flat, swallowed by the shadows of the townhouse.
“Eliza,” he says, but I’m already turning away. The fire in my veins urges me to keep moving, to never stand still long enoughfor the past to catch up. “You need to leave this for me to deal with.”
“You mean Felix? My half-brother, who tried to kill me? I assume he rocked up once he knew who his dear old dad was and decided he wanted a piece of the game. Am I right?”
His eyes are steel. “Makes no difference. I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it? Like you handled not telling me I had a brother?” I press closer, watching as his facade of control wavers. “If you are telling me the truth and you only met him a few weeks ago, how does this asshole even know our fighting tactics? He matched me move for move. He had a knifeexactlylike mine.”
“I saw the fight on the cams,” he murmurs. “The skill he has is unsettling.”
