Chapter 4

Daemon

As Bene droned on about the latest happenings, I nodded absently, keeping my face neutral. I was sure he thought I was listening when I was far from it.

My jaw clenched as I recalled her deep set dark eyes that were piercing mine only moments ago.

Julienne Williams.

I couldn't take my mind off of her.

I could still recall the moment she'd appeared on the podium. Auctions like these sickened me to the core and were it not to keep appearances I would have shut it down , much less attended. But as my uncle would say, there were some necessary evils, and this was one of them.

I sat, merely waiting for the event to be over and then I saw her.

She was a vision in white, her porcelain skin and dark hair making her look like an angel. And those eyes... they had sparkled with defiance, even as fear lurked beneath.

I had never been one to indulge in fantasies, but something about her drew me in. Desire had coursed through my veins as I watched her gaze shift, terror evident. I wanted to protect her. Wanted to do…something.

And then the auctioneer said her name and my world stopped.

Disbelief filled me as I looked at her. It couldn't be.

It wasn't until I faced up against her and saw the flicker of recognition that my thoughts were confirmed.

What were the fucking chances?

I could still recall the last fight my father and I had two years ago, the final straw in our relationship. It was the day he'd told me he was going to remarry. I was furious. How dare he betray the memory of my mother?

I'd stormed out for the final time, leaving a parting shot by telling him to enjoy his life with his gold digger wife and her leech of a daughter. That was the last time I'd seen him.

I had never met them, but in my anger, I had conjured up images of two greedy manipulative women who tried too hard to compensate for their appearance.

I'd never expected to ever meet my stepsister, let alone find her so desirable.

Julienne was nothing like the image I had created in my mind and I fucking hated it. She was seduction freaking incarnate and her smart mouth moments ago proved it. She looked so afraid, yet she didn't hesitate to defend herself, her gaze turning defiant. It had taken everything in me to not move to her and smash against those pretty lips-

“Sir?” Bene's voice brought me back to reality.

I cursed silently, shutting out those thoughts for another time as I focused on him.

“Is there anything else?” I asked, impatiently.

“Your uncle wants to see you tomorrow,” I snapped to attention at his words, clenching my fists.

My uncle had been the one to mentor me, making me the way I am. If he wanted a visit it meant something important.

“Tell my uncle I'll be there,” I said firmly, keeping it in mind

“Is there anything else, Bene?"

Suddenly the air shifted and I noticed him stiffen and hesitate, his eyes darting away from mine. It was the first time I'd ever seen him look so tense. What was he hiding?

“Out with it, Bene,” I spat out,

“It's about your father, sir.”

Bene's words hit me like a ton of bricks. First her and now this?

“What about him?” I demanded, my voice low and menacing.

I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't expect his expression to turn somber.

"I've just gotten news from City A. I'm sorry, sir. He's... he's passed away.” He said,

Everything stilled. And then it slammed into me.

No. That couldn't be possible.

I inhaled sharply, looking towards him. This had to be a joke right? A freaking joke.

But Bene had never been a liar.

Grief and shock slammed into me, leaving me breathless and reeling. It took everything in me to not keel over.

I was no stranger to death. I had faced it and filed it out a hundred times before I'd gotten to where I was now. Death whether simple and quick or torturous and slow all led to the same goal, becoming nothing.

Of everyone, my father was the last person who should ever be mentioned alongside those words.

He was dead. Luciano Medici was dead. My papa was dead.

Memories flit through my mind, not just of the past two years, but everything after. All those times, all those arguments. All the resentment.

The man I had hated and loved was gone.

“Sir, Daemon,” Bene’s voice called out, bringing me back to reality.

Slowly, I felt the sinking sensation transform into a burn of rage.

“When did he die?" I growled out, my anger simmering. I faintly felt my fists biting into the chair, seeking for answers. For blood.

Bene hesitated once more and I was tempted to pinch it out of him when he spoke.

“He died two days ago. The reports say he died of cardiac arrest. The funeral took place yesterday."

I hadn't even been invited to my own father's funeral? It was like a slap in the face. I reared back, fury rolling out of me.

But that wasn't what had my rage boiling over. It was the fact that it just didn't make any fucking sense. I knew my father. Luciano Medici for all his apparent softness was a fighter. He was healthy and strong. How the fuck would he die of cardiac arrest?

Someone had done something to him. They had poisoned him, killed him somehow…

I stiffened instantly at the memory from moments ago, when Julienne was here. Her words…the look that flashed in her face when I mentioned my father before we were interrupted.

Something clicked into place and I sneered in rage.

“Leave,” I ordered Bene, who slipped away without hesitation. I was nearly trembling with rage.

She knew. She knew that my father was dead.

She and her mother had something to do with my father's death. What else would I expect from a pair of fucking golddiggers.

Suddenly, all I saw was red. I stormed out of the room, my vision tunneling as I rushed towards the room I was looking for.

Without hesitation, I barged in, pushing her against the wall as I brought out as I pulled out my gun. Her screams did nothing for me as I aimed it against her.

"You knew my father was dead," I snarled, my finger tightening on the trigger. “You killed him.”

“I didn't ! I don't know what you're talking about!”

“Liar!” I screamed watching her flinch back.

She had devolved to sobs, tears streaming down her face. But I wasn't having it. They were just crocodile tears, a desperate attempt to manipulate me.

Just like she and that whore of her mother did. Did she pretend like this when she killed him?

"You're a lying leech, just like your mother," I spat, my anger boiling over.

For a moment, I considered killing her. It was so damn tempting.

Yet as I watched her cry, another thought occurred to me. Sucking in a deep breath I tore my hands away from her neck, pulling the gun away.

She collapsed to the ground immediately, but I paid her no mind as I stormed out of the room.

“Magda!” I called out.

“Yes, Signore? Are you sending the woman home?” she asked and my jaw clenched.

“She's not going anywhere. She'll stay here, in this mansion as a maid from now on.”

“Yes, Signore.”

Thinking back to her crying visage, anger bubbled up inside me, but I kept it contained. I already had a plan in mind.

Killing her at once would be a mercy And I didn't do mercy, not when it dealt with my loved one.

She wouldn't go down easy, no. I would keep her here and torture her break her, until she admitted it. Then I'd make her pay for my father's death.

I smiled bitterly to myself, my heart cold with determination.

She would regret ever meeting me.