Page 117 of The Devil's Deceit

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t mean to…” She covers her face. “It’s abhorrent. Sick.”

“When he told you what he’d done, why didn’t you call Dad?” Saskia demands. “If it’s so horrifying to you, how could you have stayed with him?”

She drops her hands, turning watery eyes on my sister. “I was afraid of what he’d do. I’ve never stood up to him. Never. I didn’t know how.” Tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m a weak woman. I’ve always been in George’s shadow. I’m sorry I’ve let you down, but I was so frightened.”

“We’re not blaming you, Alice,” Dad says. “We understand.”

I fire a glance at Xan. He doesn’t look like he understands one bit, but he’s got too much respect for Dad to disagree.

“Wh-what happens now? To George, I mean?”

Dad’s lips flatten. “What happens to him is no longer your concern.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

“Like I said, it’s not your concern. You are still a part of this family, and Oakleigh is your home. You are welcome to return to the farmhouse, join us on our monthly dinners, and attend any events you wish to. But what happens to George is up to us.” Dad gets to his feet and pokes his head into the hallway. “Alan, please escort Alice back to the farmhouse.”

Dad’s butler enters the office. On unsteady feet, Alice stands. She scans each of our faces. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers before leaving with Alan.

“Poor bugger,” Tobias murmurs.

“I’d never stay with a man who didn’t respect me as an equal,” Saskia announces. “It’s fifty-fifty or it’s fuck all the way off.”

I chuckle. “The unfortunate sod who gets paired with you has a bundle of trouble on his hands.”

She grins. “You know it, brother.”

“Alexander, you’re with me,” Dad says, already heading for the exit.

“Whoa, hang on.” Nicholas shoots to his feet. “I’m coming, too. I want to hear first-hand what that fucker has to say for himself.”

“Me, too,” I say.

“And me.” Tobias stands.

“I’ll sit this one out,” Saskia says, and both Imogen andVictoria nod in agreement. “And to be clear, it’s not because I’m a woman who can’t stand the sight of blood, but if I’m in the same room as him, I may just rip his throat out, and he deserves to suffer for far longer than that.” She walks over to Xan and hugs him. “Make it painful.”

Imogen winces. “I understand your thirst for revenge, but don’t do anything detrimental to your own mental health. Please.”

Xan gathers Imogen into his arms and holds on for a few seconds, his nose buried in her hair. Victoria moves into Nicholas’s body until there isn’t a millimeter between them. My heart pinches painfully. I wish Grace were offering a similar kind of support, but until we clear the air and decide whether or not we can forgive one another for our decisions and actions, it’s better she isn’t.

We file out of Dad’s office and make our way to the bowels of Oakleigh. I haven’t been down here in years, and it’s easy to remember why. These old houses were built with cellars as storage, not as livable space. The smell of damp crawls up my nostrils, and spiders webs hang in the corners. It’s cold, dark, and thoroughly miserable.

Exactly what George deserves.

Dad unlocks the third door along and enters. We follow. George gets up from the only chair planted in the center of the room. A single bulb hangs from a wire above his head, and I’m pretty sure I heard the scuttling sound of a rat making its escape as we arrived.

“Charles.” George hangs his head, avoiding all of our gazes. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dad asks. “Raping my wife and lying to me for more than thirty-five years, or getting found out?”

That’s Dad. Right between the eyes.

“I-I never meant to hurt Fiona, or you. You’re my brother, and I love you.”

Dad snorts. “Fuck you, George. You were jealous because I was the first born, the heir. You always wanted what I had, and Fiona was no different.” His voice cracks.

I put my hand on his shoulder, lending some support. This must be fucking torture, and a fresh deluge of hatred fills my veins for the man who’s caused all this pain and suffering.