Page 54 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Arabella

This was the first time I’d spent an extended period alone in Sebastian’s bedroom.

I would’ve escaped to my own, except Sebastian had scowled and demanded I rest specifically in his bed.

I would have protested more if he hadn’t placed the gentlest kiss on my lips before leaving.

And now even after returning to my own room to get dressed, I found myself back here unsure why my heart was thudding so harshly, or why my chest felt tight.

My hips ached, the bruises throbbing. But when I thought of them, I didn’t think of the man, I thought of Sebastian, and how he’d made them his own.

I’m not calling you belle because of your name.

I refused to acknowledge this change between us, as if the dynamic had shifted into something more… intimate. So instead of sitting with the weight of it, I pushed it aside and reached for his drawers, letting curiosity get the better of me.

There were no hidden weapons, or something else equally as nefarious tucked away. It was almost a little disappointing .

Ignoring the art on the wall entirely because I didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with the sex print just yet, I looked over his side of the bed in his nightstand, pausing when I realised he had a row of books tucked neatly away in the little cubby hole.

Slipping to my knees beside the bed, I picked up the closest one and flipped through it.

They were mainly thrillers, a little fantasy, and even some fiction in French that I barely glanced at.

But what caught my attention was the large black device that had been placed down beside them, the word ‘C-pen’ written across it.

I’d noticed something similar in his office, and frowning, I held the power key and clicked ‘reader.’

“Scan text,” a small robotic voice came from the device.

Picking up one of Sebastian’s books, I followed the instructions, delighted when the device started reading out loud the same text I’d just scanned.

Placing it back where I’d found it, I opened another drawer, pausing when I realised that was where he’d put my phone. Turning it on I placed it on the bed beside me, the battery flashing red, but still the screen filled with missed texts ranging from several weeks to days old.

Gabriel:

You have no idea what you’ve done, baby.

You should’ve just agreed to stay mine, and then this wouldn’t have happened.

Your dad misses you. I miss you.

Let me handle this, okay? I’ll save you.

Why aren’t you answering your fucking phone?

Is he the reason you’re not answering your phone? Because you look pretty fucking happy being his prisoner, Ara.

I swear, if he’s touched you, he’s fucking dead.

Last warning, baby.

Three hours ago.

Dad:

I’m sorry about everything. Just call me.

My finger hovered over his contact, my chest tightening at just the thought of talking to him. Swallowing the sudden metallic taste, I clicked call, expecting to go straight to voicemail.

“Ara?”

I breathed through my nostrils, trying–and failing–to stop the panic growing at just his voice. “Dad?”

“Why the fuck has it taken you this long to call me?” he seethed, but panic underlined his tone. “That monster destroyed my hand. He’s a fucking animal!”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond, deciding to concentrate on the anger that was burning beneath my ribs rather than the growing pain.

“Ara, are you not even going to say anything? He broke my hand with a hammer!”

“Is that all you have to say? After what you tried to do to me?” I hissed. “You’re lucky that was all he did.”

“What do you want me to say? I fucked up, Ara. I panicked, and everything’s gone to shit.” There was a pause, a heavy exhale. “I shouldn’t have said you were like mum. You’re nothing like her, I know that. You were always the strong one. You always did what was right for us.”

“Dad–”

“You have to fix this, Ara,” he said quickly, desperation spilling through the phone. “Be my brave girl. You’ve always been that. Just get through this, gain his trust, and then we can set it all right. We’ll get our payback, just like I’ve planned. After what you made Mum do, you owe me that–”

I hung up, turning the phone off as soon as Dad tried to call back.

I wanted to laugh and then cry until every single one of my tears were spent.

The man who’d raised me couldn’t care less that he’d orchestrated his own daughter’s rape.

He only cared about what he could get from it.

He dared to use Mum as an excuse, like her death could somehow justify the choices he’d made, that he’d traded his daughter’s safety for his own survival.

It made my stomach twist and my heart clench. He’d always done that. Weaponised the past, using my guilt to manipulate the situation in his favour.

And I’d let him. For years I’d let him pull my strings, hoping that maybe one day he’d look at me and see something worth loving. Hoping that if I was just good enough, quiet enough, strong enough… he’d finally forgive me for something that was never my fault.

But now it hit me. The brutal, suffocating truth.

He didn’t love me, not since Mum had taken her life. I reminded him too much of what he’d lost, so instead of protecting me like any other parent, he’d used me.

I never knew I could hate someone so much, and yet still love them because he was all I knew. All I had.

“Ara?”

My head jerked up, finding Chip standing in the doorway with a frown. “Oh, hi.” I rubbed at my cheeks, expecting them to be wet. But they weren’t, and for some reason that eased the pain inside my chest.

“Are you okay?” His eyes scanned my body. “I’d heard you’d been–”

“I’m fine,” I interrupted, giving him a strained smile. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

He eyed me warily, clearly unconvinced. “I didn’t expect to see you,” he admitted. “I thought maybe the attack would’ve scared you off. I was worried.”

It probably should’ve, except Sebastian hadn’t initiated it. And he’d been the one to hold me while I’d broken apart and then pieced myself together. Except I didn’t say that out loud, because even in my own head it sounded too raw. Too honest.

“Is your mum around?” I asked, scanning the space behind him. “I’d really like to talk to her.”

It had been over a week since I last saw her, and honestly, the idea of kneading bread dough until my arms ached while she told me stories sounded like the healthiest way to deal with my emotions right now.

“Oh, no. She was fired a while ago,” he said carefully, waiting for my reaction.

“Wait, she was fired?”

He nodded, even his movements cautious. As if he was expecting me to break. “Mr Devereaux’s currently interviewing for a new head of household. Until then I’ve taken over when I’m available. If not, Mr Devereaux has been getting all the meals ordered in.”

“Oh.” The word came out small, flickering with disappointment.

Chip’s smile was soft, almost awkward. “Also, Mr Alexander Ackworth’s waiting for you up in the drawing room. ”

I frowned, because I’d never had a guest since no one really knew I was here. “Who?”

“The uncle. Mr Ackworth’s insistent on seeing you without Mr Devereaux present.” His eyes searched mine before he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Want me to ask him to leave? I can make up an excuse that you’re sick or something.”

I swallowed past the unease. “No, it’s fine. I’ll see what he wants.”

“Are you sure about this?” Chip frowned, expression etched with concern. “You should be resting, not wasting your energy on him .” His voice sharpened on the last word, as if even saying it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Is Sebastian’s uncle that bad?”

Chip pursed his lips, turning to the hall. “You have no idea.”

Following, he walked me over to where Sebastian’s uncle stood over the chessboard, frowning at the pieces from when Chip and I had last played.

“Charlie, how… quaint of you to be working for my nephew. I assume that’s your mother’s doing?” Alexander barely glanced in my direction. “Where is Mrs Potter?”

Chip’s shoulders tightened. “Here’s Arabella, as you’d asked.”

“Hmm.” Alexander finally turned his attention to me, his gaze sweeping over with a glint of displeasure.

Rude. “Charlie, please bring up some tea. Your mother knows how I like it.” He dismissed him with a sweep of his hand, while simultaneously gesturing for me to take a seat opposite him. “Miss Grey–”

“Please, call me Arabella.”

His smile was forced, almost fake. “I’m very busy, so I’ll make this quick,” he said, sitting back in his chair with an aura of superiority in his expensive suit and shiny shoes. “You’re a problem.”

“Excuse me?”

“I told my nephew to get rid of you.” His eyes narrowed. “And yet, here you are. Still clinging to Sebastian like a leech.”

“You seem to think it was my choice to be here.”

“Oh, but you do,” Alexander replied, his smile curving with quiet cruelty.

“You could’ve asked anyone for help, and I have it under good authority that a certain Detective Graves has been sniffing around.

Rather persistently, in fact. So forgive me if I suspect your presence here isn’t as helpless or innocent as you pretend. ”

My nails dug into my palms. “I have nothing to do with Gabriel.”

“And yet ever since you’ve arrived, he’s taken a sudden and very personal interest in matters well outside his jurisdiction as a detective.

Sebastian’s business, the club, the accounts.

Even the supply routes.” Alexander’s gaze sharpened, his tone cool and deliberate.

“Quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you say? ”

“Is there anything else?” I asked coldly. “Or did you come all this way just to insult me?”

“I’ve come to offer you a deal.” Alexander paused, a muscle feathering in his jaw. “I’ve prepared everything you’ll need to… escape, shall we say. I have a driver waiting to take you to the airport, and I’ll pay for you to travel anywhere in the world.”

He pressed a single finger to the pile of papers on the table between us, ones I hadn’t even realised were there.

“I’ve already organised a replacement passport,” he continued. “And I’ll provide you with enough money for you to survive for the next several years, maybe even longer if you live within your means. All you have to do is leave. ”

I glanced down at the papers before returning my attention to him. “Why would you offer me that?”

Alexander’s eyes, the same colour as Caden’s, stared at me coldly. “I’m going to be honest with you, Miss Grey. I may have a… strained relationship with my nephew, but he is blood. Which means I will do anything to protect him.”

“Protect him from what? Me?”

Alexander went to reply, but his attention flickered over my shoulder.

His posture tightened as Chip placed two cups of tea on the table and then disappeared back down the stairs.

“Sebastian needs control to function,” he continued once we were alone.

“He’s been like that since he was very young, and it’s only gotten worse since he lost his parents. Without control, he becomes… unruly.”

“Unruly?” I echoed, and Alexander’s eyes narrowed on me like I was an idiot.

“He seems very proprietorial over you, and I believe if he accidentally harms you when he’s–”

“Unruly.”

“Yes, Miss Grey,” Alexander growled, clearly unimpressed with me interrupting him. “If he accidentally harms you, or if you turn out to be the snake I suspect you are, it could push him into a spiral none of us may be able to pull him back from. And if that happens, I won’t be nearly as forgiving.”

I ignored the silent threat. “You think I’m harming him by being here?”

“It’s possible.” Picking up one of the China teacups, he took a sip, only to immediately spit it back out. “This is ghastly. Where’s Mrs Potter? She’d never allow such swill to be served to guests.”

I didn’t touch my own tea, my hands aching from where I clenched them so tight. “Let me get this straight, you’re going to give me a passport and enough money so I can what… run away?”

It was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it?

Except now the thought of leaving left a strange hollowness in my chest.

“Exactly, but only if you agree to never return.” I watched as he set the cup down with a grimace, my nails continuing to dig into my palms.

“What if I don’t want that?”

“It’s your choice.” Alexander picked up the paperwork, holding it out to me. “So, Miss Grey, what will it be? To continue to wilt in my nephew’s shadow, or will you accept your freedom?”