Playing The Game - Book Four in The WSU Series

- Chapter Twelve -

Two and a half years ago.

He's dead.

I stand over his body, his lifeless body. God, Giovannis dead. Because of me. Because of his love for me, he's dead. "Don't cry," my fathers' voice appears behind me, his tone cold and cruel— if I cried, it would show emotion. A weakness. "We have people surrounding the place, no one gets in or leaves without me knowing. But, The Bliss Family has been invited," my heart instantly drops at the name. "No," I whisper, why on Earth would they be invited? Kian killed Giovanni in cold blood— he has no right, he shouldn't be here.

Like the dark itself it appears quick, turning my gaze to the entrance, The Bliss Family walk in together, the Empire that they have built surrounds New York. My father keeps his distance from them, he hates them— I don't blame him, everything they stand for, I'm against. I'm against my father, but at least he doesn't kill people. My gaze locks with Kian whose dressed all in black, his necklace shining in the light as the top three buttons of his white shirt are undone. His stare is as deadly as he is.

He's changed, he's exactly like his brothers and father.

My dad grips my wrist quickly before lowering his voice, "don't do anything rash," and then he releases his hold on me. "I can't promise that," I whisper before taking a side door out into the large hallway. It only took ten seconds before I'm not alone— I knew he'd follow. He always finds me.

"If you're here to apologize, save it," I don't turn to look at him as I feel his body getting closer to mine. He doesn't touch me, he doesn't have to— he has a hold over me, one I can't shake. "I'm not going to apologize," he won't openly admit what he's done, Kian Bliss isn't stupid, he's calculated, he thinks everything through before acting. "You disgust me," I turn on my heel to face him, except he isn't as close as I would have guessed. "You'll get over it," he shrugs, it's like he has no regret, no guilt. "What's happened to you?" I question, more to myself than him— he isn't Kian.

"I grew up," his reply dull, he's seventeen, no longer a boy, his families past, their darkness finally caught up to him. "I don't..." I stop, not knowing what to say next. I don't know who he is— and I used to be the only one who knew him. "What are you doing here?" I ask instead, "my family got invited, it would be an insult if we didn't show."

"You didn't come for me?" My question comes out quiet, "no." I laugh a little, of course, he didn't come for me. I'm so naive to think otherwise, "what was this to you?" I hold back my tears, "what was I to you?"

"A game."

My heart cracks open, a game. "I was a game?" I echo his words, "it was a fun game," his twisted smirk returns. No longer a smile— I haven't seen him smile in a while. I take a step towards him, breaking the distance between us. His scent fills my lungs— his smell is intoxicating, Kian Bliss is a drug that I got addicted to.