Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

“All of the chaos she enticed.” Hector rolls his cigar between his fingers. I turn to face him and Scarlet. Two people I never had an interest in knowing, yet I’ve woken with the will to do it anyway. “Lucan was fighting to keep me alive so that I could” —I flick my hand up and down my stomach “—and Veronica wanted to kill me, but in a way that would destroy Brantley, so she became close to him, knowing he would never allow anyone near me if he didn’t trust them completely. She was smart. Planned her destruction when he was a child, but she was angry. I don’t think it was from Lucan either, though getting someone pregnant at twelve is nauseating, but even before her life with Lucan, who apparently gave her everything, she had a rough life. She rolled all of her events into one task, and that was to destroy. She knew if she used the curse, she would have an excuse to take me when the time came. It was all a cover-up.” I take in a deep breath. “As soon as Brantley and I finally started getting closer, Lucan knew Veronica would begin the first phase of her attack, so he started sending ‘texts’ to me. To entice Brantley to get jealous and push us together faster, I’m assuming. It didn’t work because I never told Brantley about the texts, not until recently. Then when he started coming to me in my sleep, he came as Brantley in hopes that it would draw some unspoken trust out of me, but he didn’t realize I would catch on that it wasn’t him. He still enjoyed tormenting something that belonged to his son—” I wince, suddenly exhausted. “I think they were both severely unstable, but I think above all—” I look around to all of the people sitting in this room. All wide awake and listening. Tillie is still sobbing into Nate, as is Madison with Bishop. “I think they just really liked the game and being the instigator of it all. Both of them were working against each other, but they enjoyed it. I don’t know what kind of mind games and riddles you all played in the past, but I get the feeling it’s a generational thing that skipped me—until Lucan and Veronica.”

Brantley rests his hand on mine. His thumb glides over the rock on my finger as his other is on my lip. “I don’t think I’ve told you this—” The corner of his mouth turns up slightly. Not enough to call it a smirk. “But I love you.”

My heart flatlines.

Saint

Burying both Cash and Bailey was emotional. We had one ceremony at a local church in Riverside before we drove to the EKC plot and buried Cash, before driving to the manor to bury Bailey. Being back there was hard, to put it lightly. It took me thirty-four minutes to exit the car, and even when I did, my knees buckled. The house is a danger zone right now while it’s under construction, as well as a crime scene, but they managed to clear a path, leading to the cemetery in the back.

I told Brantley to knock the house down, as I never wanted to come back here again, but he refused. He said he wanted to rebuild the areas that were damaged and use it for the next generation as they see fit, since he sure as fuck—his words, not mine—does not want any teenagers around his house.

It made sense.

But it also terrified me because amongst the funeral chaos and only now just settling into the penthouse in Vitiosis Hotel, I had somehow managed to forget that I was pregnant. When the background noise becomes too loud, it drowns out important areas.

“What are you thinking about?” Brantley asks from the doorway of the master bedroom. I look between him and the dogs curled up on the bed, with Medusa’s enclosure in the corner. I have everything I love in this room right now, only that’s not true. I’ve come to love a lot of people since Brantley finally opened the doors into my life.

“I wasn’t entirely honest with you all when I told you who helped me through the dark vortex that Veronica kept me in.”

“Oh?” Brantley says, his brows raised. “You don’t say…” He makes his way to the edge of the bed and falls on top, facing me.

“What, you knew?”

“Saint, you may be able to read everyone else because of your gift, but I can read you because of your soul.”

I smile at him. “Okay, fair point.”

“Carry on,” he says, gesturing for me to continue.

“Bailey was there, too,” I whisper through the pain in my throat. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of everyone because this is more personal.” I reach forward, squeezing his hands. I don’t ignore the way his body turns rigid at the mention of her name.