Chapter 6

"You should have been working beside me, but I guess I'll find someone else," he said, turning to face me. His expression was cold, unreadable. "When I discovered what your slutty sister did, I feared everything I had built—everything I planned—had crumbled. But then, surprisingly, Adrian seemed interested in you."

He paused, studying me with mild amusement.

"I wonder why he saw you," he mused. "But whatever the case, I'm glad the deal is still on. And you, my son, will take your sister’s place."

"No," I interjected, my voice shaking but firm. "Never. I won’t do it, Dad. I won’t be what you want me to be."

I forced myself off the floor, my body aching from the weight of his expectations.

"I'm not my sister. I don’t cower in fear or cry my eyes out. I am a man, and I will defend myself from you. I won’t marry that devil, and I won’t let you, a greedy bastard, dictate my life!" The words rushed out, sharp and unfiltered. "And if you think you've done enough for me, then stop. I’ll pay you back every damn dime you ever spent on me and Evelyn."

His lips curled into a smile. I frowned. Did I say something funny? Why is he laughing?

"I don’t need your chicken change," he said, eyes gleaming with something sinister. "It's nothing compared to what I want."

He held my gaze for a long moment before giving a half shrug.

"You’ve got so much of her in you," he said, almost wistfully. "That’s why I wanted to keep you close."

Then, as if he had already dismissed me, he let out a sigh. "It’s rather unfortunate for your sister, though. She’ll have to bear it all alone."

He turned and started walking toward the door.

His words sent a chill down my spine. Bear it all alone?

My stomach twisted. "What are you up to?"

He shrugged. "Nothing that concerns you."

I knew that tone. I knew that word. Nothing never meant nothing with him. It meant disaster.

"I dare you to touch Evelyn," I roared.

He barely looked back. "I doubt that bark of yours could hurt a fly. Unlike mine, which can kill."

Realization hit me like a punch to the gut. He’s up to something. And it’s not good.

Evelyn.

I hadn’t spoken to her in a while. I had been too distracted—too caught up in trying to expose Adrian. My fingers fumbled as I pulled out my phone, dialing her number.

Switched off.

"Dad!" I bolted out of the room, my heart pounding against my ribs, each beat hammering with urgency. My breath came in short, frantic bursts as my mind repeated the same, chilling thought.

She’s in danger.

And my father was behind it.

I found him just as he reached a door at the end of the dimly lit hallway. He paused, sensing my presence, and turned his head slightly. The air between us thickened, heavy with unspoken words and bitter hatred.

"Don't you dare hurt Evelyn!" My voice ripped from my throat, raw and edged with fury. I barely recognized it—shaking, unhinged, desperate.

He exhaled slowly, then turned to face me, one brow arched in mocking amusement. "I’m afraid I already have." A slow, cruel smirk curled his lips. "What are you going to do about it?"

The floor felt unsteady beneath me. Rage clawed up my chest, a wildfire spreading too fast to control. Every fiber of my being screamed to lunge at him, to make him pay for whatever he had done, but my feet refused to move.

Because no matter how much I hated this man standing before me, he was still my father.

And that hesitation—that single shred of restraint—was all he needed.

"Nothing, as expected," he sneered, eyes glinting with vicious satisfaction. "You can only bark."

The words barely left his lips before my fist crashed into his face. The impact sent a sharp jolt up my arm, but it was worth it. His head snapped back, but to my frustration, he barely flinched.

He lifted a hand to his split lip, dabbing at the blood with the back of his fingers. Then, slowly, he grinned.

"If you thought I was still that weak little boy, you’re wrong," I growled, my breaths ragged.

His eyes darkened. "Then prove it."

I barely saw him move. One moment, I was standing, pulse hammering. The next, I was on the floor, pain exploding across my skull. The world spun, and for a moment, all I could hear was the deafening roar in my ears.

"Now that’s a punch," he mused, adjusting his suit like nothing had happened. He stepped over me with a deliberate slowness, reaching for the doorknob.

I forced myself up, every nerve screaming in protest. My head throbbed, my vision blurred, but I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop.

Because I knew—whatever was behind that door, it would break me.

I staggered forward, just as he pushed the door open.

And then I saw her.

Through a transparent window, Evelyn.

Chained to a bed.

Her arms strapped to the sides, her legs restrained and spread apart.

Tear streaks ran down her pale cheeks, her lips trembling with silent pleas. Her breathing was shallow, chest rising and falling in uneven, shuddering waves.

And beside her stood a man—a doctor, or at least someone dressed like one—slipping on a pair of gloves.

A metal tray sat next to him, the cold steel instruments gleaming beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

The room smelled like antiseptic and something else—something clinical, lifeless.

Something that reeked of violation.

My stomach lurched. My veins iced over.

"What is happening?" My voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

My father stepped inside, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders relaxed—as if he were watching a show.

"What do you see?" he asked, his tone almost... bored.

I swallowed, hard. I knew. I knew exactly what I was seeing. I just didn’t want to accept it.

I turned back to Evelyn, my pulse roaring in my ears. Her entire body was trembling. She looked... drained. Defeated.

She must have cried. Fought. Screamed for help.

But no one had come.

And now... I was the only one who could save her.

My father sighed, as if disappointed. "Don’t be foolish, Matthew. We both know exactly what's about to happen."

My jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

His smile widened. "Your beloved slutty sister is about to get an abortion so my plan can work out."

The words hit me like a freight train.

My breath stilled.

My stomach twisted, violent and nauseating.

I barely heard my own voice. "Did she even consent to this?"

"There was no need." He waved a dismissive hand. "My decision is the only one that matters."

His words were sharp, final. Cold.

Like this was nothing. Like Evelyn was nothing.

Like he wasn’t stripping her of a choice that should have been hers.

I looked at him then, really looked at him.

This man wasn’t my father.

Not anymore.

He was a stranger, a soulless shell wearing his face.

"Are you insane?!" My voice cracked, raw with desperation. "Do you even realize she could die if this goes wrong?"

He shrugged. "I suppose that’s a risk she’ll have to take."

A risk.

A gamble.

Her life meant nothing to him.

My throat burned. My hands trembled.

"Did you ever love us?" I whispered. "Even for a second?"

He met my gaze without hesitation. "Loving myself and my reputation is all I’ve ever lived for."

A bitter laugh escaped me. Of course. Of course.

I had spent years searching for something that was never there.

"You should be happy," he continued, his voice smooth, collected. "At least you’ll get to live your life the way you want."

My fingers curled into fists. Did I want this?

No.

I wanted freedom. But not like this.

Not at the cost of Evelyn’s life.

I turned back to her.

Her breathing was shallow. Her eyes glassy.

She was waiting for me.

Waiting for me to do something.

To save her.

But how could I save her when I was barely holding myself together?

"Don’t you have a conscience?" I demanded. "Don’t you have a heart?"

He smirked. "Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that question?"

My pulse thundered.

"Why should I be the only one with a heart?" My voice was hoarse. "You have one too—why don’t you save her?"

A trap.

I could feel it.

I was standing on the edge.

And he was waiting for me to fall.

He was winning. I was losing.

And the ball was in his court.

My next move could either save Evelyn…

Or destroy us both.