Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Her bony hand taps my back with no emotion. When she speaks, it’s slow, as if every word is a hassle. “It’s been a long time since I last saw you. You grew up and became so handsome.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Call me Mom like when you were young.”
“It’d be better not to.”
Her shoulders droop, but she doesn’t fight it or even insist on it.
Though her beauty has faded, there’s still a delicate grace to her movements, a hollow reflection of what she used to be. My mother’s chronic depression has rendered her emotionally absent, her once-kind spirit dulled by years of belonging to the system.
I used to think Helena was different. She loved me and showered me with the affection her husband was incapable of, but then she retreated into her shell and left me for the sharks.
At the age of six.
After that, I stopped calling her Mom or thinking of her as a mother.
She’s just another pawn in their game.
“Honey.” She places her hand on my arm and it’s like being touched by a ghost. “Mom is sorry.”
“I know.”
“I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“I know.”
“Do you blame me?”
“No.”
“Are you just saying that to placate me?”
“Of course not.”
Her gaze grows blank, shadows settling within. “You speak just like your father. I don’t like it.”
I pat her head like she did when I was six—after I was waterboarded in Father’s dungeon to near death—and say the same sentence she said to me then, word for word. “You’ll get used to it.”
A sob tears from her throat as I walk past her.
If I were the same Kane from fifteen years ago, I would’ve stopped and consoled her. I would’ve taken her to the garden to watch the koi fish or brought her flowers.
But my ability to excuse her for not being able to protect me or to feel sympathy for her plight has long been stripped from me.
My mother is just an unfortunate woman who got caught in the jaws of power.
She gave birth to a weakling—me—and my father made sure to fix it.
I knock on a dark mahogany door and then push it open.
A drink in hand, my father’s tall figure is standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. He’s dressed in a tailored gray suit, his back straight and his posture upright, unlike the wife he broke.
He tilts his head in my direction, and it’s stunning how much I look like him. Same hair, same eye shape, same bone structure. The only difference between us, other than his grim gray eyes, is the creases of age in his face and his thin lips, which are always in a disapproving line.
Grant Davenport has always been my warden, not my father.
“Kane. You’re here.”
“You called.”
He walks to the liquor cabinet and pours me a drink, the amber color glistening under the study’s yellow lights.
My father offers me the malt whiskey, then takes a seat on the brown leather sofa and motions at the chair across from him.
I sit down, my legs far apart, projecting the commanding, relaxed posture he engrained in me through years of torture.
“Is there a reason behind my presence here, Father?”
“I can’t ask to see my son?”
“You can, but you don’t usually. If there’s a purpose, I’d appreciate it if we could reach it.”
A slight smile tilts his lips. “You’re a true Davenport.”
I hold my glass up. “I’ll drink to that.”
The alcohol tastes like fucking urine down my throat, but I keep up the façade he made sure I’d wear like a second skin.
“I’ll cut to the chase.” Grant leans forward in his seat and swirls the alcohol in his glass. “The Osborns are making a move.”
I raise a brow.
This town was founded by four families: Davenport, Armstrong, Callahan, and Osborn.
For centuries, we held a monopoly on the town, its politics, and people. Not only that, but we made sure to extend our influence to the rest of society.
It’s why Vencor exists. Once you’re backed by the extended wealth and connections the organization offers, your and your offspring’s future is set.
This is why we attract many businessmen, politicians, and the scum of humanity.
However, what the outsiders don’t know is that there has always been an internal rivalry between the four founding families. Each of them wants to rule, to cripple the other families and take hold of the reins.
Reputation is important, so one family has often publicized the other families’ scandals to ruin their social standing within the town and encourage/incite a member vote to restrict their influence.
When we were the target of such an attack less than a year ago because of my uncle who was caught on camera fucking a man, my dad banished him from the family and the state.
Homophobia runs deep in this town, and no gay members are allowed in. Doesn’t matter in what day and age we live. If you’re not straight, you’re not respectable.