Dark Vow (Blackwoods College)

His father snorted. “I can’t say I’m shocked. I’ll tell you something, Robyn. My wife was not always like this, but bitterness can change a person.”

“Oh,” I managed to say.

His father shuffled some papers on his desk. I didn’t know what to think. I expected this man to be terrifying—and while he was certainly intense and intimidating, he wasn’t the complete nightmare I thought he’d be.

Instead, he seemed almost kind and understanding.

I was missing something.

Calvin described his father in letters. Every single time, he painted a picture of a maniac. The kind of psychotic, self-absorbed creature that tortured those he loved in the name of making them stronger. Calvin wrote about a challenging childhood, about abuse and pain and anger.

But this man didn’t resemble the nightmare I’d constructed in my head.

“My wife was kind once. I suspect Calvin doesn’t remember that.” If Calvin remembered or not, he didn’t move to say so. His father continued. “But life changes a person. I’ve worked hard to establish this family, to raise up the Solar name, and to drag the company into the twenty-first century. Without hard work, sweat, and blood, none of this would be possible. Calvin’s mother thinks breeding is enough. I think breeding is only part of the equation.”

I caught a sharp undertone. Calvin’s father leaned forward, staring at his son.

“Breeding only matters if you’re willing to work,” Calvin said softly as if he were reciting scripture. “Nobody is born the best. Winners are made.”

“That’s right, son. It warms my heart to hear my own words parroted back.”

“It’s hard not to, considering you’ve been drilling it into my skull since I was a baby.”

“Lucky for you.” His father watched him carefully. “Are you serious about marrying this girl?”

“Yes,” Calvin said without hesitation, and that was the first time it sounded as though he weren’t lying or holding back.

His father nodded. “Good. You know I’m pleased to hear it.”

“But I have conditions.”

I sat up straight. I didn’t know about this. I assumed he was coming here to show his father that he was willing to play along—but having conditions of his own was interesting.

“Go ahead.” His father tilted his head like he was watching a curiosity unfold in front of him.

“I want Noah and Raymond stripped of their shares. I want Noah’s trust cut in half, and I want him written out of the will. I want Raymond to forfeit his stock options in the company if he’s going to retain the Solar name. I want Noah thrown out of the family.” Calvin leaned forward, shivering with rage. “I want them destroyed.”

Calvin’s father leaned back. I expected him to seem outraged, but instead he only smiled and nodded slowly, as if he’d wanted this all along.

“I see you’re finally embracing the competitive spirit.”

“They took things too far. It’s time to stop being kind.”

“I always said you were weak, Calvin. You were too willing to give second chances.”

“I’m finished with chances.”

“Very well.” His father tilted his head. His gaze was predatory, like a hawk circling a field, searching for a mouse to kill. He smiled, his lips pulled back to show too-white, too-straight teeth. It was disconcerting, like a spirit drifting from the mist.

“You know I’m the best man to run the Solar company. The Latvian deal proves it, even with the odds stacked against me.”

“Your brothers did go to great lengths to try to stop you.”

“You knew?” Calvin didn’t sound surprised, but I felt a deep sense of shock on his behalf.

“You think I don’t know everything that goes on in my company? I knew what you planned and I knew your brothers were going to counter it. I’m pleased you managed to work around them.”

Calvin took two breaths to compose himself, though his expression barely changed. I sensed the anger in the air like electricity, and I could taste it on my tongue. His father looked positively exalted, like he was bathing in Calvin’s rage and enjoying it far too much.

I began to see the beast beneath the surface. He seemed so mild-mannered at first, but as the conversation wore on it became clear that this man had no conscience and no desire to help others. All he cared about was domination, control, and victory at all costs—even if it meant hurting or killing his sons in the process.

This was the logical endpoint of a kill-or-be-killed mindset. This was might makes right incarnate. This was a warlord, a broken mess, a demon from Hell.

The worst part was he wore a normal human’s face. But beneath all that was blackness.

That was Calvin’s future. I saw it plainly. I couldn’t turn away once it became clear. Calvin sped toward his father like a freight train, morphing into a twisted version of himself, and one day he’d wake up and find that the man he once thought he’d become was only a distant memory, replaced with sorrow, and longing, and anger, and death instead.