Grand Duke Cajarte

Chapter 6

Grand Duke Alcide Cajarte

The bottle of the wine felt cold against my palm, as I pour the red liquor into my vulnerable glass. I held the stem between my fingers and disturb the drink in circular motion. Rich flavor that I smelled, urging me to gulp it in one shot.

It was a hectic afternoon. My office was filled with work and I couldn't help but close my eyes and massage my temple. However, it was just like a blessing from hell. The King had sent me a gift, a high-quality wine. That's how this vintage end up in my grasp, successfully tempting me to screw its cork.

I raised my cup while looking at the front, where the golden frame was placed. Almost occupying the space of my wall. Dares to cover the night paint.

"Cheers," I coldly invited them without nothing to celebrate to begin with.

They did not move an inch. It was still the same after a long time, unchanging features that made me growl. Their eyes pierced back as I stared at them. With a grin on my lips, I sip on the lid.

"Ken Cajarte," I put down my glass. "How was life in hell?" The man that I loathe, was forced to lay down under his tombstone. Leaving me alone to take care of his mess.

In the picture, he wore rags that never been washed. His untaken care beard grew even darker just like the bags around his bloodshot eyes. There were visible wrinkles on his forehead and his body were just like bones.

"Fifty thousand million golds, father." Once again, I poured wine into my glass when I drank every last bit of it. "You like that sound, right?"

It was just the monthly income of what Celtic earns. If he was alive, surely his dripping drool will stain the glittering floor. And his feet will run fast as early as the morning to head in a gambling place.

Thankfully. He's dead before my life will be bury again in debt. "Regretting now? Your son has made to the summit of pyramid."

He didn't retaliate to my words. That will be absurd if he can, rising from burying him six feet below the ground seems unbelievable. A chuckled has slip from my mouth. If the devil permitted, instead of lying corpse, probably you already turned into undead. However, that curse was not cruel enough for a sinner like you.

"Disgusting Bastard."

I clench my jaw before taking a light sip while arrogantly throwing him a glare. Beside that man, was a beautiful woman. Sheila Cajarte, my warm-hearted mother that no longer breathes the same air with me.

She was wearing her dirty-white torn dress that betrays to hide her milk skin filled with bruises. If only it wasn't stained by hideous filth, she will remain pure and elegant. I tilt my head for until now, I've never understood her yearn for father's affection.

"You should've have been the one who closed their eyes," I stated as she looks at me with gentleness. Judging the things that I've been doing to achieve this position.

If only she was still alive. With my current wealth, I would have given her everything she wanted by now. Business, a small flower shop of what she always dreams. She can't own one before because she earns a little amount of bronze for selling common medicinal herbs at the busy street.

The warm liquid flow into my throat and I can feel the ecstasy affecting my mind. As the memories of the past that been long forgotten had kept coming back whenever I glance at their portrait. Vision of my mother's sufferings before she died was replaying in the back of my head endlessly.

And I will curse that bastard for it seems he casted a spell unto my broad shoulder to make me work diligently. Not ever wanting to go back to the life, once I have. For me to survived in this wicked ground, I had to wipe out the battlefield.