Blood & Bond [Book Five of The City of Eternity Series]

5.4: Rebellion

Valentyna

I couldn't take my eyes off Kye as he turned in the elevator. His hands gripped the cart tightly, fingers drumming against the metal in a fractured, anxious rhythm. He wasn't looking at us anymore; he was staring at my father—intense, unwavering. The kind of stare you don't dare break. And I understood all too well. I was afraid to meet my father's eyes, too.

As the elevator doors slid shut, enclosing the group of men who had practically fled from my father's presence, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. I was frozen in place, my heart racing. Father watched us—those stormy, unreadable eyes locked on me and Alex. He was holding back, a faint crease in his brow revealing the razor-thin line he walked between fury and something far worse: indifference. I could almost see the war waging behind his calm exterior, as if he were weighing whether to let his anger continue or rein it in for the night.

Would he unleash more of the wrath he had so liberally poured over his subordinates, or would he decide, just this once, to be glad we were here? Namely, glad to see me. I hoped for that—but I prepared myself for the worst. His brow had been furrowed even before the elevator doors opened to reveal us.

Father's eyes narrowed as they landed on Alex—sharp, calculating, as grey as a sky threatening storm. Alex, standing tall beside me with my shopping bags in hand, stiffened. We were so alike, Alex and I, except for his rebellious streak, always simmering beneath the surface. It wasn't enough of a reason for Father's constant tension toward him, though. That tension had been there as long as I could remember, taut like a spring, ready to snap. But what else could it be? Could it really be as simple as Alex not being a girl he could dote on?

"You know the rule," Father began, his voice low and controlled. He made a point of standing from the desk, approaching us calmly, a few heavy steps trodden before stopping a few feet from us. The emergence of his words through the silence sent a cold shiver down my spine. "Back by five."

"I know—" Alex began, his voice steady, though the undercurrent of frustration was unmistakable. He never did like being scolded, especially not when he felt he was in the right. They were constantly butting heads, refusing to see eye to eye, and finding any reason to go off on one another.

But Father had no patience for excuses, no interest in explanations, and certainly no desire to engage in another one of their battles. He was all business, cut and dry, focused solely on what mattered in the moment. "She's important," he cut in sharply, his voice rising—not in volume, but in intensity. It was a kind of intensity that made me flinch, my skin crawling under the weight of his words. "I won't allow anything to happen to her."

The guilt that had been clawing inside me all evening surged up her throat, threatening to spill over. I could feel it bubbling inside her, twisting her insides into tight, painful knots. I had to say something. I had to take responsibility, had to shield Alex from the brunt of Father's wrath, even if it was just this once. He wouldn't take it out on me. He couldn't.