All Chapters of REBEL : THE DEADLY HIERESS: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

DANIEL Eight years is a long time to be silent. The kind that squishes against your lungs and throat in the mornings and in the evenings and refuses to allow you to breathe normally. I lost everything that day she left—the unborn child, her, and pieces of me that I never knew I had until they were gone. Now, the only thing I can hold on to is bitterness. Bitterness and duty. At first I was sad, yet now I'm pissed at the whole world. Klaus and I barely speak to each other anymore. Whatever brotherhood we had was murdered the day Catya was eliminated on my orders. I didn't regret it—not when the woman I loved' blood tainted every corner of my memory. His silence was the cost he paid for her devotion. I sit here at this family gathering my parents insist I attend, surrounded by the pretences of smiles and champagne flutes, watching others pretend their worlds are not as broken as mine. It's all a facade—this whole atmosphere. And I'm powerless to get lost in it. The music trails off as

REBEL Daniel gets mad but has no reason to; he was in the wrong, he will have to get used to seeing the reality and aftermath of what he did. "I've got nothing to say to you, Daniel." He dismisses me. Rather, he gets down to Michael's level, speaking softly. "Mike, your mom and I will go out to eat to talk. Klaus will take you home. Say goodbye to your grandparents. There are others relocating Mex as we speak—medical staff are already at home waiting for him." Michael nods. "Okay, Daddy." That title—Daddy—catches me off guard like a wall of bricks. My lips part but nothing emerges. I'm shocked into silence. My mother tries to speak, her lips trembling with words she must not say, but I headshake. It's not time now. Daniel doesn't look back as he takes my elbow in his and leads me off like some prisoner in his court. He doesn't even request permission, doesn't ask—it's the same sort of dominance I once found thrilling and now find… perilous. He opens the car door, waits

REBEL The sunlight slants through the tall glass windows, brushing gold over my bare skin. My head is pounding like a war drum, and my mouth tastes like regret. My body aches in places I’ve ignored for years—emotions I’d locked up, now clawing at the surface with wicked fingers. Daniel's sleeping beside me, arm thrown across my waist like he has a right to hold me there. I look up at the ceiling, not trusting myself to inhale too heavily. Because the second I breathe in too much, it all comes crashing back. The fight. The kiss. The bed. His teeth against my skin like I belonged to him. And the worst part? I let him. I swing my legs over the bed and stand up, slowly. Carefully. As if perhaps I might avoid the reality of last night if I just moved slowly enough. I find my dress rumpled on the floor and smooth it back on over shuddering fingers. I need air. Slipping out of the room, I don't even pause. I don't leave a note. Don't glance back. I just run. — I

ROBERT The air in the evening smelt of gasoline and rain, the kind of smell that had you believing something was going to happen. My phone buzzed once against the old wooden desk, and I already knew. News like that didn't take till morning. "Rebel's back," the message read. Two words, enough to make my fingers lock on the glass of whisky I'd been drinking. I stood up, working the kink out of my back, and walked across the apartment to where Louisa was curled on the worn leather couch. She glanced up from her book, her eyes sharp despite the softness of her face. Rehab hadn't killed the edge in her, just muted it long enough for me to haul her out. "You okay?" she'd ask, each time something twisted behind my eyes. "Rebel's back," I said, and the name itself made her stand up straight. She knew better than to think the rest, even if she didn't know the story. A knock preceded her finishing the sentence. Even. Measured. I opened the door to find Viktor standing in the doorway, rain

LOUISA The night was quieter than usual. I sat cross-legged on the arm of the posh leather couch that Robert had christened his throne, listening to the dark TV as the jumping light danced over the walls of the living room. He was across the room, bent double over some papers, his desk lamp casting the prominent planes of his face into relief. A face I once thought was that of my savior. A face that I couldn't help but hate and love recently. "You know, I never asked you why," I breathed, but it was sufficient to make him tense in his chair. His pen hung in mid-air. He didn't turn around, not yet. "Why what, Lou?" "Why me?" I swallowed a lump. "Why did you save me eight years ago?" The words burst out before I could take them back. Silence. The air grew heavier, more oppressive with each passing second he didn't react. I hated that. I hated him for rescuing me. For granting me this half-life. For pretending the past was a locked box we both gagged on. When he finally turned, the