Page 85 of Volatile King (The Kings of Wayward Academy #6)

E dmundo

There was no doubt that this had been the best Christmas I’d celebrated in a very long time.

The food had been flowing all week, friends were many, and of course, Lilya was back in my life.

I felt reborn, like I’d been set on pause until now.

Not that I didn’t love many aspects of my life, including Victoria, but I’d been holding my breath for this moment, terrified that it might never happen.

Ren laughed at a story that Marcus was telling as we enjoyed breakfast together. This really was my Christmas miracle come true.

Glancing at Nash, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. I’d felt that uncertainty, the pain of not knowing, but the unknown had given me hope. Nash’s hope had been destroyed in such a horrific fashion…my heart ached for him. From one father to another…it was unbearable.

I’d discreetly reached out to everyone I could think of who worked in the dark underground and had confirmed that Lawrence had indeed killed a major player.

But no one could tell me more. Sadly, thousands every year fell prey to a system of depravity that would haunt people’s dreams if they knew it existed right beneath their noses.

It was always the people you didn’t expect.

The little old woman next door, the dentist you’d known since childhood, or the lawyer you hired who was only pretending to help you.

It was easy to see that Lilya was the only thing keeping Nash glued together right now. She seemed to have a similar effect on all of her boyfriends. That thought was still blowing my mind, but I had to admit they were dedicated to her, and they made her happy.

We had also celebrated the twins’ birthday. I was thankful that Theo and Blake had been spared the twisted initiation that Lawrence had forced on the other boys.

Myles had explained in great detail what that entailed.

Lawrence had taken a code of honor, loyalty, and trust, and turned it into an absurd, ritualistic, and totally pointless rite of passage.

Omert? was sacred in Italy, and as the proverb says, Cu é surdu, orbu e taci, campa cent’anni ‘mpaci . “He who is deaf, blind, and silent will live a hundred years in peace.” To tarnish it with such depravity…disgusted me. There was no doubt in my mind that Lawrence had warped it to quench his own thirst for power. I wasn’t surprised, really—it was so very Lawrence.

In celebration, Lilya had wanted to take them out for separate special days.

She had been adamant about them each receiving time alone with her.

For Theo, Lilya had chosen a history museum with antique and one-of-a-kind motorcycles before enjoying a five-star meal.

She had taken Blake out for breakfast and then to an aviary where he got to work with falcons for the afternoon.

On the actual day, Ella, Ethan, and Lip joined us all for a movie marathon.

I’d fallen asleep halfway through the first one.

I was sure all of this burned Lawrence’s ass. I imagined him seething over Nash’s accomplishments. Lawrence had been outwitted and strong-armed out of his company by his son. He’d lost control of everything, including the space he used for all his dark fantasies, and the money to keep it going.

It was too bad that Sheila’s phone hadn’t proved helpful. The phone number she had for Lawrence went dead the instant Nash shot her.

The clean-up crew confirmed my suspicions.

There had been a camera in the bedroom with a short-distance wireless feed.

Lawrence had been watching…and he knew. Nash had been so close to ending it all.

My men found his hideout four houses down from Sheila.

I didn’t have the heart to tell Nash, and there was no need now that Lawrence had scurried on again.

With Sheila’s death, Nash had stripped away the last of what his father coveted, but that also made Lawrence more dangerous than ever before.

So far, Christov’s home had been a bust. My men hadn’t seen Lawrence’s snivelling face there at all, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in contact.

Sabastian’s enrollment in Wayward told me that Christov knew a war was coming, and he wanted to keep his son safe.

It might have been the single bravest thing he’d done in his spineless, miserable life.

“Papa, what do you think,” Victoria asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. Blinking, I looked at her and then around the table.

“I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you want to know?”

“We were discussing having a New Year’s party here at the house. Would you be open to that,” Victoria asked.

My eyes danced between Victoria and Lilya. They both seemed interested in the party, but I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Please, Papa,” Victoria begged, and I sighed.

“I’ll allow it, but with the condition that I approve the guest list. It cannot exceed thirty people with both of your friends combined.”

I expected Victoria to throw another tantrum, but she shocked me when she smiled.

“Done. I only want to invite a few people,” she said.

“Same here,” Lilya said, smiling.

It was good to see the two of them getting along, even if it was only to get me to agree to a party. It was a start.

“Alright, I’ll make the arrangements for refreshments and decorations,” I said, standing from the table.

Marcus touched his ear and then looked at me. I knew right away that something was wrong.

“We have company,” Marcus said as the front door opened.

Nash jumped up, pulled his gun, and stood in front of Lilya. I respected the approach, but unfortunately, his gun was no help in this situation.

Patricia stormed into the dining room like the hurricane of chaos she was, with an air of entitlement swirling around her like bad perfume. The entourage carrying her bags looked as run-down as the last set of employees she’d hired and fired. There’d been so many I’d lost count.

She stuck her nose in the air and looked around like she had expected destruction. Although I owned the house, I’d allowed her to decorate it to her preferences since I rarely came here, but Lilya had changed that.

“Mama!” Victoria got up from the table and ran for her mother. Patricia gripped her in a brief hug before pulling back and looking her over.

“You’re getting too fat. No man will want you looking like…that,” Patricia said, and Victoria’s shoulders dropped.

I didn’t have to see her face to know how devastated she looked. I shook my head at Patricia.

“Do not listen to your mother. You look beautiful,” I said, stepping forward.

“Oh, Edmundo…I didn’t see you there,” Patricia said, tugging off her black gloves and coat. She didn’t even look as she tossed them behind her, expecting her assistants to catch like a dog.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” I said. “What are you doing here, Patricia? I don’t remember inviting you.”

She sauntered into the room, her hips swaying and reminding me of a snake slithering back and forth. With one glance, I recalled why I hadn’t spent a single minute in the same room as her in years.

“I didn’t realize that I needed an invitation to see my daughter. Especially when you drop this ridiculous news on her that she is not the true Genovese heir.”

Victoria had ignored my direct order that no one was to know until I said it was okay. I looked at her and shook my head.

“I’m sorry, Papa. I needed someone to talk to,” she said, looking at least a little remorseful.

“What kind of lies are you telling our daughter? Why would you even say such a vile thing,” Patricia asked, and I cocked my eyebrow at her.

Nash stepped aside, and Lilya stood up from the table.

The look on Patricia’s face was priceless.

Lilya looked almost identical to her mother, but with my grey eyes.

I hadn’t wanted Patricia to know about Lilya until after Lawrence was six feet under, but I couldn’t deny that the shocked expression as all the blood drained from her face was worth it.

“No…this can’t be…you…” Patricia stuttered as she looked between me and Lilya. “How is this possible?”

“The how is not your concern, but it is true,” I said.

Lilya stepped away from Nash, and my chest filled with pride as she walked straight up to Patricia without an ounce of fear.

“Hello, I’m Lilya,” she said, holding out her hand. Patricia ignored the gesture and fixed her glare on me.

“This is not possible,” Patricia said as she brushed by Lilya and stomped toward me. “You said you had a vasectomy.”

That would be news to anyone else in the room other than Marcus, and my nostrils flared as I took a deep breath.

“Thank you for airing my medical procedures in public, maybe you’d like me to name off the list of work you’ve had done?”

She glanced around the room and huffed. “Edmundo, just tell me how this is possible.”

I was tempted to toss her out without any answers, but I might as well get this over with.

“Yes, I did have one. It was to ensure that I would never get you pregnant if you ever managed to drug me,” I said, not caring who was in the room to hear how diabolical of a human she was.

Patricia’s face turned bright red, like I’d said something completely outrageous.

“Don’t look at me like that, we both know you are capable of it, and you tried twice…

unsuccessfully, because I’ve never trusted you.

” Her mouth fell open. “You thought I didn’t know, didn’t you?

You should know by now…I know everything that you do. ”

Patricia’s head snapped to her assistants, and she pointed. “Get out! All of you, get out and take my things to my room. This is a family conversation. How dare you stay in here and listen. Go, now,” she ordered, before turning her furious gaze to me once more.

“ Fermatevi !” They all froze. “Signora Genovese will not be staying here. Take her things back out to the car.”

“Don’t you dare or you’re all fired,” she seethed.