Page 61 of Maddening Fixation

The impact echoed across the courtyard.

No one spoke.

Only the wind answered.

It carried desperate sobs, whispered prayers, and broken pleas for mercy through the ancient estate.

My father stared at me with naked hatred.

My uncles avoided my eyes.

Let them feel helpless.

Let them understand what it meant to have your fate placed in someone else’s hands.

That was the lesson they had taught me.

Now I was returning it.

Justice.

That was all this had ever been about.

Justice for Sarah.

Justice for my mother.

Justice for the broken, frightened boy they had beaten without mercy, starved without remorse, humiliated without shame, condemned without proof, abandoned without a second thought, and cast into a prison they believed would swallow him whole—never imagining that Ravencliff would forge him into a man they no longer recognized.

“Son... this won’t bring ye the peace ye’re searchin’ for,” my second uncle’s wife pleaded, her voice breaking as she knelt in the freezing courtyard, dirt clinging to her bare knees.

Her hands shook as she clasped them together, tears carving pale tracks through the grime on her face. “Killin’ yer own blood... yer own family... because we sent ye to prison for what we believed ye did... please, don’t do this. Think of yer soul before it’s too late.”

I stared at her without the slightest flicker of emotion.

Even now, standing at the edge of death, she still believed I had murdered Sarah.

“Romeo!” Declan cried, his voice cracking as tears streamed freely down his face.

Gone was the arrogant bully who had once laughed while I was beaten.

In his place knelt a frightened old man. “We were wrong! We were blinded by lies... by pride... by favoritism. We should’ve listened to ye. Please... forgive us. Ye’re still one of us. Ye’re still a Flynn.”

Another uncle lurched forward on his knees.

“Mercy, nephew!” he shouted desperately. “We can make this right. The family fortune—it’s yers. The businesses, the estates, every account we’ve got. Take it all. Just spare us. Don’t become the monster ye believe we turned ye into.”

My third aunt burst into sobs.

“We’ll disappear tonight. We’ll leave Florida forever. Ye’ll never see any of us again. Please... for the love of God... show us mercy.”

Her words stirred nothing inside me.

Not pity. Not regret.

Nothing.

Soon the entire courtyard dissolved into frantic pleading.