Chapter 3: The Brutal Betrayal

"I’m the only one you can trust, Raffy. Remember that."

The words echoed in the marble hallway like a threat. Ignatius had gone to the main house for a "business meeting," leaving me with a heavy silence and a stomach full of lead. He thought I was sleeping. He thought I was the same docile, broken boy he’d pulled off the kitchen floor.

I crept toward the oak double doors of his study. My hands shook as I gripped the handle. It didn't budge. I pulled a bobby pin from my pocket—a trick Leo taught me when we were kids and he’d lost his house keys for the tenth time.

Click.

The door swung inward. The room smelled of expensive leather and old blood. I moved to the mahogany desk, my feet sinking into the thick carpet. I needed to find Leo’s gambling debts. I needed to see the numbers, to understand how my brother could be so cruel.

I pulled open the bottom drawer. A heavy, leather-bound ledger sat inside. I flipped it open, my eyes scanning the columns of names and figures.

There. Thorne, Leo.

My breath hitched. I traced the line across the page. But there were no losses at a casino. No betting slips. Just a date—the date the creditors trashed my apartment—and a payment entry next to it.

Payment to: Miller. Amount: $5,000. Status: Scripted Incident.

The air left my lungs in a violent rush. I flipped the page, my fingers tearing the paper in my haste.

Thorne, Leo. Payment to skip town: $10,000. Condition: Do not contact brother.

The room spun. The walls, the expensive books, the gold-leaf ceiling—it all turned into a blurred, nauseating mess. Ignatius didn’t save me. He didn’t pay a debt. He bought a crisis. He paid Miller to terrorize me. He paid my only family to abandon me.

Every tear I’d shed on his shoulder, every moment of "gratitude" I felt for my savior—it was all a performance directed by the man who called me "precious."

Thump.

A heavy vibration shook the floorboards behind me.

I spun around, the ledger slipping from my numb fingers and hitting the floor with a loud slap. Ignatius stood in the doorway. He wasn't wearing the robe anymore. He was back in his black suit, his silhouette sharp against the hallway light.

"You were always too curious for your own good, Raffy."

He didn't sound angry. He sounded bored. He stepped into the room and kicked the door shut. The lock engaged with a heavy, metallic thunk that resonated in my teeth.

I backed away, my hands flying up to sign, but my fingers were too stiff, too terrified to move. You lied. You paid them. You sent Leo away.

Ignatius laughed. It wasn't the warm, rich sound from before. It was a cold, jagged rasp.

"I didn't lie," he said, walking toward me with the slow, measured gait of a hunter who knew the trap had already sprung. "I told you your brother left you. I just forgot to mention I gave him the plane ticket. He took the money without a second thought, Raffy. He didn't even negotiate for your safety. He just... left."

He stopped inches from me. I could see the reflection of my own terrified face in his grey eyes.

"Why?" I mouthed. No sound came out. It never did.

"Because I wanted you," he whispered, reaching out to grip my jaw. His fingers dug into my skin, bruising and firm. "And you don't look at men like me unless you're desperate. You needed a hero, so I built you a villain. I bought the building. I bought the debt. I bought the thugs."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my forehead in a mocking benediction.

"I bought you, Rafferty. Every tear you cried over that broken vase made you cheaper to own. And now? Now there’s no one left to call. No brother. No home. Just me."

He shoved me back, and I hit the desk, the sharp edge bruising my hip. He didn't look like a saint. He looked like the monster I’d been running from my entire life.

"Get used to the view, Raffy," he snarled, his eyes dark with a terrifying, possessive hunger. "Because you're never leaving this estate again."