Page 50 of Hupotasso
I shake my head at his knowing expression. He’s always one step ahead, damn him.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how important it is I prove my ability to father a child, Jag.”
He nods.
We both know that to cement my inheritance to my title I need to procure an heir after marriage. If I was indeed ‘shooting blanks’ as Angie had suggested, my title would revert to Viper.
Jag studies me over his glass, his eyes speculative.
“If you were anyone else I’d advise you to have a high-profile affair and produce an illegitimate child. But we both know you have to follow through with repairing the reputation of The Families and The Games, so that avenue is closed.”
“Not necessarily,” I shrug. “I have every hope that Sophie’s pregnant. As soon as it’s confirmed, she’ll return to Spider, and our plans to destroy him can progress.”
“You’re sure?” He frowns. “She literally only just dropped Spider’s baby.”
I smile, and he shakes his head.
“Pregnancy aside, I came today to tell you something I’ve discovered.”
“Oh, yes,” I sit, prepared for yet more half-assed speculation.
“I found the lost footage of you killing the director.”
I sit up a little straighter. I knew cameras were rolling unattended that night, but I hadn’t known there was footage.
“What did it show? Him begging for his life and me snuffing him like a candle?”
“That,” he nods, sitting opposite me and crossing his legs, “and him telling you that Angie was a spy, but not the kind you thought.”
I frown.
“I don’t remember that.”
“No, I’m sure you don’t,” he snorts. “You were in a Falcon rage and blind to everything. But I’ve followed up, and the fact remains that, yes, he said she was planted, but he didn’t sayby Spider OR The Free Men. In fact, he intimated something altogether different.”
“Different how?” I scowl.
“I’ve followed a very faint trail,” he leans forward, fixing his eyes on mine, “that leads back to The Families. Angelina’s involvement in The Games has royal bloody fingerprints all over it.”
I down my drink and lean back in my chair, still steadily meeting his gaze. The hairs on the back of my neck have risen, I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. But I can’t accept it. I won’t.
“Bullshit.”
37
I peruse the library shelves as I have most nights for the past few months, and select a slim volume, opening it up to read the first page just as I hear the door snick open.
Turning, I grit my teeth and slam the book shut as Viper seems to slide across the floor towards me.
I’m here late. Dinner finished hours ago, and I’d played my usual role. Every aspect of my life now feels like I’m an actress on autopilot, a prisoner on death row just marking time. Only the books take my mind off my terrible existence. Tonight, I’d wandered back down to this area of the castle to find something I could read that would help send me to sleep. I’ve already exhausted any book I could find that might offer a glimmer of advice or help with escaping this castle, from the map of thesewer system to the type of tiles on the roof. Nothing had offered a solution so far. I’m in the history section now hunting down what I can learn about this family and vampires in general.
“A little bird told me,” Viper sniggers, walking too close and staring into my eyes, “that my brother thinks you’re Spider’s minion.”
I step back, scowling, and turn to go, but his hand shoots out and grips my upper arm, spinning me back to him.
The book falls from my hand as I raise my arms to push him away.
“What the fuck? Let me go!”
