Page 45 of These Shattered Memories

T he air in the Sanctum is thick, the heavy expectation of what comes next almost overwhelming. The golden serpent etched into the black granite walls seems to shimmer in the flickering light, a silent witness to everything unfolding.

I keep my eyes trained on my father, but like he can feel me, his eyes land on me and he smiles. There’s something about it that makes me uneasy. Despite the warmth emanating from the candles that litter the room, a cold sweat runs down my back.

He tears his eyes from me and looks through the room. “However, before we can cast our votes, there is something I must bring to your attention.”

A low murmur runs through the Keepers. Across the circle, Hayden meets my eyes. My father waits for silence, but his expression doesn’t shift. I know that look. It’s the same one he wore with a whip in his hand. Coiled, patient. Snake-like.

“Zaina was not just my wife. She was a leader. A mother. The backbone of The Snake. She brokered a peace deal with The Scarlet Ravens. She gave us unimaginable influence in Senna. It is clear that her strength held us all together.” He pauses to take in a shaky breath.

“But in her final moments, she was betrayed by someone she loved deeply; someone she trusted above most.”

“Speak plainly, Jonathan,” Cordelia’s cool voice cuts through the room, disturbing protocol. “This is no time for riddles.”

I go tense, keeping my face carefully blank. He’s building toward something, and I can see it before he says it.

“My apologies, Cordelia.” He turns back to me, triumph gleaming in his eyes. “My wife’s death was not an accident. She was murdered. And her killer stands among us.”

The room erupts. I barely hear the uproar—my mind is already sprinting ahead, assembling the puzzle I should have solved sooner.

“What are you saying?” James Tartt hisses out.

My father’s voice slices through the noise. “Rowan, would you like to tell them, or shall I?”

All eyes shift to me. I draw a quiet breath, unclenching my fists, only to clench them again. Xander shifts beside me, a subtle step forward.

Protective.

“You all know Zaina demoted our third son two years ago,” my father continues. “He resented her for it, blamed her for his failures. So, he plotted against her.”

My heart pounds against my ribs, a sharp boom against my chest but I bite it down, tilting my head. “Are you suggesting I killed my own mother?”

His smile is like a razor. “The evidence speaks for itself.”

At his gesture, a guard steps forward with an envelope. My father retrieves it slowly, theatrically, pulling out pages.

“These are records of payments made from Rowan’s accounts. One, to a mechanic who serviced Zaina’s car—just days before her death.”

I don’t flinch. But inside, everything coils tight. I hear my own laugh because of course, how could I be such an idiot?

“So, it’s you,” I say. “You’re the one behind Haze. You killed Hawthorne, Daniel Tang, Trist. All of them. It’s been you all along.”

He smirks; eyebrow raised. “What are you talking about, Rowan?”

“This is your coup. You pin this all on me, maybe Hayden and Xander too then clear the way for your own nomination. Remove us from the picture, and suddenly, you’re the only option left.”

“You sound insane,” he shoots back.

I tilt my head. “Then tell me, why Haze? Why go through all that trouble for a drug that is killing people?”

Around us, the sanctum has descended into chaos. Members of The Keepers speak between themselves. The paper my father was holding being passed around the room, but I know that flimsy evidence won’t hold up for shit.

“You’re delusional,” my father says, looking as unaffected as I’m trying so hard to sound. “Your mother cast you aside. You retaliated by murdering her.” He turns to the rest of the room, voice rising. “If he could betray his own blood, what makes you think he won’t betray you?”

“He’s lying,” Hayden grits out from where he stands.

Another loud spring of debate erupts. Some are nodding at my father’s words now that he’s tugged on their biggest insecurities. Some look on with doubt, but I can tell my father is swaying them. I need to get a handle on this quick.

“If you’ll give me the chance, I can show you the payments made from his account, the messages, and all the secret conversations.” He makes another gesture and the guard who handed him that paper hands the Keeper beside him an envelope. Kingston White, my mother’s second Enforcer.

I keep my face neutral, watching faces contort and shift, the uneasy buzz settling over the room.

I want to reach over to my father and kill him with my bare hands.

I want him writhing on the floor as I choke the life out of him.

Hate I have kept hidden over the years seems to rise to the surface all at once, a volcano ready to erupt.

Next to me, I know Xander feels the same. I know more than anyone he wants our father dead for everything he did to him, but we can’t kill him here. Firstly, no weapons are permitted in the sanctum and secondly, if I kill him, that will only decrease my legitimacy.

I need The Keepers to side with me willingly, show them that my father has lost his mind, that he is the one who is guilty, not me

I meet his gaze now, letting the murmurs continue.

“No need to bother yourself, Kingston,” I murmur, letting my shoulders relax.

The old man with deep brown skin looks up at me, surprised.

“All you’ll find in there are fabricated bank statements, or some artificially made recording of my voice, maybe even a transcript of a supposed conversation I had with this mechanic.

There will be no photographic evidence, no video, nothing, just made up lies. ”

Kingston fishes out a paper, reading it over his face solemn. I smile, because he knows I’m right. “You all realise what this is, don’t you?” I continue, turning to look at my father.

His face twists. “And what, pray tell, is this , Rowan?”

“It’s everything you’ve just accused me of.

A desperate attempt to seize power,” I say simply, taking a step forward.

My shoes echo softly against the granite floor.

“You’ve always wanted this, wanted what we had.

Is that why you beat us, flayed our backs until they were bloody and raw, all because you knew you could never have a sniff of the power we would eventually wield?

Did you feel emasculated because she was The Head of The Snake and not you?

She made you her bitch, and it drove you insane. ”

“This is ridiculous!” someone exclaims but I can’t tell who. I’m too focused on my father.

His smirk falters for the briefest moment before settling back on his face again.

“You’ve always been a coward, Father,” I continue, my tone icy.

“Hiding behind others. Manipulating them to do your dirty work. You wanted to feel powerful, so you stole Hawthorne’s research, figured you’d come across a gold mine.

You probably didn’t expect so many dead bodies.

And now you’re standing here, making up lies, because you know the only way you could ever become Head of The Snake is by getting rid of me.

You were never going to win a single vote tonight, which is why you’re doing this. ”

He laughs, but it’s feeble. Around us, the room has settled, looking between us with curious eyes.

“But in case you didn’t realise, Dad , if they didn’t pick me, they were going to pick Hayden or Xander.

You would have been the last pick in this room because no one respects you.

No one thinks of you as capable. You were and still are an aristocratic trophy my mother could tote around at dinner parties. You were and always will be her bitch.”

He grits his teeth. “Watch your mouth,” he snaps.

I grin. “No, I don’t think I will.” I turn to The Keepers. “I say we continue the vote. If you’d like my father to be your Head, then so be it. I won’t fight it.”

The Sanctum holds its collective breath as my words hang in the air. The golden serpent etched into the walls gleams brighter, almost alive, as if it’s revelling in the tension.

My father’s face twists into something ugly—a mix of rage and desperation.

I’ve struck a nerve, and everyone here can see it.

He’s always hated being second to my mother.

It was obvious growing up, but I never imagined he would sink so low.

His most important duty was to remain her most loyal ally, and he failed at that.

It doesn’t help that he’s been a pathetic excuse of a father, too.

“If my father is the leader you want, let the vote decide. But before you choose, ask yourselves this: do you want a Head who engages in illicit drug deals which go against The Snake’s code and murders people for it?

A Head who has put us under The Judiciary and the police’s scrutiny?

A Head who conspires with Scarlet Ravens to destroy his family?

A Head who murders his own wife for some misguided push for power. ”

“He’s lying!” my father howls, his composure unravelling. He’s sweating now, his brow glows in the candlelight. Another thing about my father, behind the cool facade is a rabid animal.

I sweep my eyes through the room. “Have I manipulated any of you? If anything, I’ve kept all your secrets, hidden unspeakable indiscretions that would get you exiled from The Snake. I’ve protected all of you and I’ll continue to do so because, unlike my father, I don’t need threats to win.”

Heads bow; eyes avert. They all know I’m right. I smile as I look at my father. “If you think I’m lying, then let them vote, let them choose you.”

“You’re—” Just as he opens his mouth, the door to the sanctum opens, and a guard walks in, completely impervious to the tension in the room and walking over to whisper something into Xander’s ear.

Everyone watches him. It is against strict rules to disturb a Choosing Ceremony, and this man may as well be signing his death sentence.

Only, as he whispers, my body goes rigid because I hear the distinct words: Detective Alexander Kimura slipping from his mouth.

I turn to look at him, my heart slamming against my chest just as Xander nods. And just then, Alex appears at the threshold of the door. For a moment, my breath catches, unsure if I’m asleep and have fallen into some kind of dream, but looking at his wild eyes, I know this is real.

What the fuck is he doing here?

“Rowan,” he breathes, relief soft in his voice.

“What is this?” my father snaps.

“He says the police have a warrant,” the guard explains. “He said if we brought him here, he could stop it.”

“And you believed him?” my father all but shrieks.

“Let him go,” I instruct the guard who is holding Alex’s arm in a way that makes me twitch.

As soon as the guard releases him, Alex rushes to me, and it’s like he’s all I can see. I don’t care about all the people staring at us. I pull him into a tight embrace, burying my face into his neck.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper against the shell of his ear.

“It’s your father,” he says, keeping his voice just as low. “He’s behind this.”

I let him go. “I know,” I say. “We were just in the middle of that right now.”

Alex looks at me, confused, but he holds up his phone to me. “This is proof that your father gave Hawthorne that faulty car and used the same mechanic who worked on your mother’s car to tamper with the brakes.”

I look at the phone, then at him, caught by how much I love him. Alex is here to my rescue, here to back me up—to protect me despite the danger this puts him in. My heart stutters and my eyes sting.

“What the hell is this?” Cordelia demands, breaking the spell. “What’s going on?”

“This is the truth my father is desperately trying to hide,” I say.

“He murdered the creator of Haze for her research and went on to murder my mother. If I take a wild guess, I’d say he was going to ask you to declare him Head of The Snake and convince you all to enter the Haze business for more control over Senna. ”

Alex moves closer to me and my hand finds his, squeezing slightly to thank him. Cordelia takes the phone from Alex’s hand and Kingston peers over her shoulder to read through.

The room descends into a new buzz of chaos, bees in a smoked hive, confused and frantic. Across from me, my father’s face twists and in the midst of chaos, he reaches inside his robes and pulls out a gun. It’s silver-plated, and it shakes in his hands as he points it at me.

Gasps echo through the chamber, some Keepers jumping off the dais to flee the sanctum. Time seems to slow.

I stare the gun down, watching the way my father’s hands shake. “So, you’re going to kill me?” I ask.

“You murdered your mother and now you’ll destroy The Snake. I can’t let you get away with it.” Rage blazes behind Jonathan’s eyes and in that moment, I understand he’s going to shoot.

And he does…