Novels by Nerak

I finished bathing, the hot water causing my skin to turn red. I stepped out of the shower, took the rough towel, and rubbed it over my body with energetic, almost violent movements, as if trying to rip away an invisible layer of dirt that persisted on my skin.Once again, I deliberately avoided looking into the foggy mirror. I went straight to the room's closet, pulled out a pair of dark jeans, and a navy-blue button-down shirt.I dressed mechanically, buttoning it up to my neck to hide the cold I felt inside.Exactly thirty minutes passed before I took my university bag and opened the bedroom door.I went down the spiral staircase, expecting to face the firing squad that was the Bayron family. But as I entered the main dining room, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Frederick wasn't there. Richard wasn't either. Only my mother was sitting at the table, drinking tea from a porcelain cup."Good morning, sweetheart," she said, looking up with that sweet, uninformed smile that alwa

The digital stylus slid over the illuminated screen of the tablet with a monotonous, almost surgical rhythm. A straight line for the east wing hallway.A dense square for Frederick’s private office. A blurred circle for the blind spots that the security cameras of the Bayron mansion left clear in the back garden.My eyes burned, bloodshot from the accumulated exhaustion of hours of insomnia. When the digital clock in the upper right corner marked exactly 3:00 a.m., I finally let the stylus drop onto the quilt.I let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to dissipate immediately into the absolute silence of my room.I set the tablet aside and threw myself onto my back, feeling the mattress cushion my fatigue, and reached my hand toward the nightstand to grab a manila folder that burned my conscience.I opened it over my head, holding it with hands that wouldn't stop trembling slightly. It was my family’s financial statements.Bank accounts that used to overflow with zeros and were now a d

My hand burned, but Frederick didn't even blink. His head barely moved to the side. He looked back at me, and this time, the glint in his eyes was pure sadism."That’s what I wanted to see," he whispered.Before I could react, he grabbed my wrists with brute force. With a quick movement, he shoved me against the office's side wall. My back hit the wall with a dull thud. He raised my hands and immobilized them over my head, squeezing them with just one of his large hands."Let me go, you son of a bitch!" I shouted, struggling, trying to kick his legs, but he shoved his knee between mine, immobilizing me completely. "Don't you dare touch me!"Frederick placed his free hand on my neck, not to choke me, but to pin me against the wall. His fingers squeezed the tendons at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him."Are you going to keep pretending, Luke?" he asked me, his face inches from mine. "Are you going to keep pretending that you aren't hard right now?""Go to hell!" I spat dir

LUKE’S POV"I’m already done with that stupid practice, Frederick! Leave me the hell alone once and for all!" I shouted at him, turning my back on him while my boots echoed loudly against the entrance marble.I could still feel the trembling in my knees from the suicidal car race, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter. I walked toward the mansion’s large oak doors, wanting to bury myself in my room.But I didn't get far. Before I could cross the threshold into the great hall, I felt his fingers close like a vice around my bicep. With a violent and expert yank, Frederick forced me to spin, slamming my back against his solid chest. His mouth brushed my ear, and I could feel his erratic breathing, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine."Don't be impatient," Frederick hissed, his voice vibrating with dark satisfaction. "In this family, there’s a sort of ritual when someone passes their first real practice. You can't just go to sleep as if you hadn't sho

Frederick kept his hands firm on the leather steering wheel, but his eyes never stopped searching for Luke through the rearview mirror.He watched him like someone contemplating a work of art that had just revealed a fascinating crack.The boy was sitting in the passenger seat, his breathing still somewhat labored, but with a calm on his face that bordered on insulting after having shot a man.Frederick broke the silence with a voice that carried a mixture of irony and dangerous curiosity."Are you aware of what you just did, Luke?" Frederick asked. His voice was an icy whisper that cut through the hum of the engine.Luke didn't even blink. He ran a hand through his new haircut, messing it up with an indifference that made Frederick grip the wheel tighter."I shot a traitor, Frederick. Isn't that what you wanted to see?" Luke responded, turning his head to hold his gaze through the mirror. "Or maybe it disappointed you that I didn't miss."Frederick let out a dry laugh, a vibration lo

Frederick pulled his Glock 19 from the holster on his back and, with a fluid movement, extended it to Luke by the grip."Kill him," Frederick ordered.Luke looked at the weapon and then at Frederick."You want me to kill him?""Yes. Andrew is useless to us; I no longer care if he lives or dies, but I want to see if you have what it takes to be a Bayron. Shoot."Luke took the weapon. The metal was cold and heavy in his hand. The mercenaries stood still, expectant. He looked at Andrew, who was staring back with pleading eyes. Frederick expected Luke to tremble, to vomit, to return the weapon begging for mercy. Instead, Luke raised his arm with terrifying steadiness.BANG!The shot resonated like thunder. Andrew let out a gut-wrenching scream. Luke hadn't hit him in the head. The projectile had pierced his right shoulder, at the exact point to shatter the joint without touching a vital artery."What the fuck did you do?" Frederick roared, snatching the weapon back. "I said kill him!""