Page 145 of Heartless Sinner

He’d written again after the dinner.

Holy fucking shit! I just had sex with Daphne in the Oval Office. It was so surreal. I don’t even know how to describe it. We talked, and she said she wasn’t mad at me. Seeing her in person, sneaking away and talking, made me realize that I didn’t just want to sleep with this girl. It isn’t a simple crush. She’s completely taken me over. I’m falling in love with her.

My vision blurred.

I blinked hard and read the last sentence again.

I’m falling in love with her.

I’d been falling in love with him too.

I pressed my lips together and turned the page, searching for more. There wasn’t any.

Not the next day. Or the day after that.

Brooks didn’t write again for a week.

When he did, everything about his handwriting looked different. It was angrier and messier.

I curled my fingers around the edge of the journal and read.

Everything in my life is dead. I’ve never felt so angry, and I don’t know how to release it all. Last night, someone shot my father. They wanted him dead. While they arrested the guy who pulled the trigger, there are more people involved.

The guy is ratting out everyone, and I can’t wait to watch all those fuckers pay for what they did.

I know they wouldn’t have stopped at ending my father’s life. Deep down, I knew all of us were names on their hit lists, like we don’t have beating hearts inside our bodies, like we’re not fucking breathing humans! They see us as nothing but people who either further their agenda or need to go down.

I don’t trust anyone anymore.

I’ll make sure anyone who knew about this suffers for the rest of their lives.

When I become a Night Son, that’s my new mission.

Take them all down!

Every last one of them!

I hadn’t known about the plan to shoot his father. That didn’t mean I didn’t feel guilt about it.

Brooks had been right in his entry. I’d become distant because of what I’d found out about his father. I wanted the president to pay for what he’d done to my family.

I’d wanted a scandal. Impeachment. His name dragged through the mud until the entire country hated him.

The Nixon kind of removal.

Not the Kennedy.

I’d never wanted anyone dead.

I loved Adelina. I loved her mother.

And back then, even if I’d been too afraid to admit it, I loved Brooks.

My father and his yuppies had used me as a pawn in a game I hadn’t even understood I was playing.

And Brooks paid for it.

We both did.