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I find old ways boring.
I’ve waited years to deliver my blow that would break Florian in ways nothing else could.
After all, compared to his grandfather and father…he knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Death's cruelty.
To experience the despair, the pain, and the anger in the most despicable place where nightmares rule and vile creatures roam freely, enjoying tarnishing the innocent because they just taste differently.
I’ve learned a lot over the years from my father to keep the family legacy going, but I’m not his little bitch anymore, and besides, he can’t do shit now.
Follow the rules. Always follow the rules because different rules bring different results, and you want their ruin. Nothing else matters.
A chuckle slips past my lips as I grab the knife from the table and trace it over my veins, barely resisting the need to open up my old wounds and let them bleed.
I’m hungry for blood, but mine won’t do anymore.
This time around, everything will be different.
This time, I’ll personally cut the baby out of her fucking stomach, watching her bleed and die as I kill her kid and film it as a little souvenir for Florian.
Ah, what a glorious sight it would be.
To see him lose not only his child…but the woman he loves.
He’d go mad and never recover.
My plan has always been about Florian, and not the Price dynasty.
Because we have a score to settle.
And to win the game, I need to capture his queen.
Checkmate, Florian.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Every monster has a story.
And the time has come to tell mine.”
Florian
Florian, five years old
Thunder echoes in the air, the wind whooshing inside and billowing the white curtains backward, and I jump up from the bed.
Running to the window, I sigh in pleasure at the chaos outside, and my feet itch to dart to the garden and open my arms wide, welcoming the rain along with the lightning flashing across the sky.
Grandpa Atlas says beauty should be valued above anything else because in beauty, we shall find inspiration and the desire to move forward. While his words seem a bit confusing…I believe them when I look at nature.
Rain. Snow. Oceans. Even…volcanoes.
All these natural outbursts are scary but so magnetic at the same time that I can’t imagine anyone staying indifferent toward it.
And that’s the thing I hate the most.
Indifference.
“Where have you been?” Daddy’s harsh voice rocks off the walls, and I still, curling my fingers on the windowsill. “We’ve searched for you everywhere.”
