Page 51 of Forgive Me For I Have Sinned

CHAPTER 20

Alaric

I’m brooding in my office, seated at my desk, contemplating after I let Sergio escort Veronica out of the meeting and had Portman take her wherever she needed to go. He notified me she wanted to be dropped off at campus. I can’t get the traumatized look on her face out of my head when Gino called her a ‘bitch’ and a ‘cunt.’ It was as if she shut down entirely, her body tense and voiceless. It was also as if an invisible curtain had fallen over her.

Something triggered it, but I couldn't understand what or why. People have called her worse, but I've never seen her shut down like that. I expected a fast retort on her end but nothing.

She was magnificent in there. She is brilliant, with her sharp mind and astute responses. She knew what the right decision was. It was spot on to what I had concluded myself. After she left, I pulled the plug on Gino's' funding and terminated all his contracts with my company, but I wasn't done with him. I wanted to go after her, but I had something to take care of. Something that couldn't wait. My phone buzzes on the glass surface of my desk from an incoming message.

C: Ready when you are.

A: On my way.

I rise from my desk, casting my gaze at the wall to where I had her restrained, recalling the taste of her on my lips. Yet, an invisible chain bound her to a hellish realm—a nightmare created only for her. An inferno where she remained ensnared, devoured from within, and I couldn't reach her.

Once on the highway, I accelerate the car, hurtling into the darkness for the twenty-minute drive. Drizzling rain obscures the illuminated streets as I reach the ancient house nestled in the woods. Concealed behind trees, the house appears abandoned, deliberately crafted to avoid attention. Only a barely visible black road hints at its presence, either concealed by the speed limit or by those already acquainted with its existence. Only the Consortium visits this place. The house has a wood wrap-around porch missing two slabs of two-by-fours and an old, rusted swinging bench. The house might look abandoned to some, but out here, that's the look we were going for, so it's not easy to find.

There are sixty-six members, but only ten I truly trust concerning Veronica.

I walk up to the door, and it opens with a scream from the hinges. "Where?" I ask.

I follow him inside, where the old fireplace is burning, casting the only light in the room. Ten cloaked figures with plague masks encircle a man confined to a chair.

A cloak and mask are promptly placed in my hand. I quickly pull it over me, ensuring my anonymity as I step into the circle. Gino is bound and gagged, attempting furtive glances and struggling against his restraints. Faint red marks on his wrists reveal his prior struggles. His muffled screams fill the room as I near.

Extending my hand, I receive a pair of black leather gloves. Slipping them on, I permit the removal of the gag, granting him speech. "Who the hell are you?" he gasps; voice hoarse from his screams.

Dressed in his work attire, his shirt stained and evidence of incontinence at his feet, he trembles in fear. His panicked eyes dart around the room, his demeanor a stark contrast to the arrogance that once resided in them.

"Gino, Gino, Gino," I echo mockingly. "What shall we do with you?"

"Alaric, you son of a bitch! I–"

"I would watch your tone and choice of words. Such impudence led you to this predicament like calling someone a bitch and a cunt."

"You can't be serious!" He laughs hysterically, but I see the fear in his eyes. I'm feeding off of it.

"I'm afraid not."

"She's just an intern! I get it, you're sleeping with her, but she ruined my company–"

"You did that all on your own. I'm not here because of your company. What your company is worth is nothing to me. Her actions in those five minutes surpassed your two decades in this business. The issue, however, is your blatant disrespect for what belongs to me."

"I-I didn't know," he stammers. "I heard she's nothing but a bitch and a whore."

The contemptuous words kindle a fiery rage within me. Valen hands me a sharpened butcher knife, and the man's eyes widen in horror. "P-please. I'm sorry," he pleads. "P-please, please. I promise not to say anything. I saw nothing. Just…release me."

"My concern for your future utterances has waned, Gino." Raising the knife, its gleaming blade catches the firelight. "Your fate was sealed the moment you insulted her."

I bring the blade down repeatedly; each strike a visceral manifestation of the trauma she endured. The splatters of blood decorate my mask and gloves, echoing the rhythm of my swings. The memory of her face, that vulnerable expression, fuel my unrelenting fury. I continue until my arms can no longer bear the strain.

"Jesus," Draven says when I'm done.

"Jesus isn't going to help anyone that has hurt her. I suggest you spread the word. Veronica is mine."

* * *

Returning to the campus library, I delve into the history of Kenyan and the Order. Victoria's induction into the Order wasn't due to birthright; I look up and stare at the old wooden shelves. The library is dark except for the light in the hallway and the small lamp I have on by the brown desk in the corner, casting shadows on the leather-bound books, their words akin to scriptures. I recognize how history underpinned governments and beliefs, ours veiled within cryptic texts penned by the privileged. Countries adopt them to create a way of life, but ours is a secret, hidden in riddles inside books penned by assholes with fat bank accounts. Temptation, greed, gluttony, and sin. A way to cover it all when it's committed. It's all a prophecy, you're born or married into it.

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