Merciless (Merciless 1)

“One of the many Talverys who will fall to their knees,” Stephan gloats and raises his glass to toast, but I don’t reciprocate.

“I thought she would, but she betrayed me last night,” I tell them and reach for a goblet of water.

“Betrayed?” Romano’s voice is low.

I nod and look to see how my brothers react to my words.

“I thought she was doing well?” Jase comments and leans forward in his seat to look at Aria, his stare commanding her to look at him, which she does, but only for a moment. Her head is held high, but her glassy gaze stares at nothing.

“She tried to kill Daniel,” I tell Jase and he gives me a look of shock but then turns to Daniel, who’s smiling.

“Kill you?” he questions Daniel.

“As if she could,” he says, leaning back in his seat. Aria struggles to breathe as we talk about her in front of her like her presence is a meaningless joke. But everything has a purpose.

“It was only a knife.” Daniel looks at me as he answers, and I reach for the one in front of me.

“This one?” I ask him, and Aria rocks forward a moment, her ability to stay strong being questioned. When I peer up at her, her eyes are shut tightly. “Look at me, Aria.” My words are lethal on my tongue.

Instantly, her eyes open and a scattering of tears lines her lashes. Instead of wiping them away, I hold up the knife and ask, “This one?”

She shakes her head gently. “No,” she says, the word a mere whisper. I can feel the pounding of her heart.

“Take it,” I demand as I grab her hand and put it over the handle of the knife. “Would you like to use it on him now?” I ask her.

“No,” she says and her voice trembles, but again she shakes her head and answers me. “How about on me?” I offer her. “Would you like to slit my throat, Aria?”

“No.” Her answer is a barely spoken breath and her grip on the knife loosens.

“I told Daniel this morning,” I begin, addressing Romano to my right and giving him my full attention, “that it was his fault. There was no fear of him and what he’d do to her.”

Romano considers me, his brow raising and his lips turning down into a frown before he nods in agreement. “Fear is powerful.”

“I choose other tactics,” Daniel speaks up and then looks at Aria as he adds, “I let her do what she thought she needed to, so she could at least feel that she’d tried.” His voice is neutral, devoid of the empathy I know he has for her. It’s all a show. That’s the real difference between us; Daniel likes to hide behind an image.

I am the image of what’s to be feared. It exists in my being and there’s no hiding it.

“Do you remember me, Aria?” Stephan dares to ask her, leaning across the table to be every bit closer to her that he can.

“Oh, she does,” I answer for her as she struggles to respond. “My poor Aria, I know this is hard for you,” I say and hold her tighter, although she’s stiff doing her best to stay seated on my lap.

“I imagine it is,” Stephan says and then adds, “She’s grown to be just as beautiful as her mother.”

My blood sings with both rage and vengeance, and it’s a feeling I adore. A smile creeps across my lips as I confide in him, “She sings for me, but the memory of you is strong enough to stop it.” I turn to Aria, letting my finger trail over her shoulder to slip a lock of hair to her back and then turn to Stephan. “I can’t have that.”

Confusion mars his face for a moment and I let time pass for a moment in deadly silence.

“I could give her a different memory to hold onto,” Stephan suggests and the laugh that creeps from Romano’s gut is tight with tension.

“I don’t believe Carter enjoys sharing,” Romano comments, but I hold up my hand to stop him, speaking only to Stephan.

“I do believe she needs a different memory. I’m tired of hearing her cry out in her sleep.” As I speak, Aria’s expression crumples and I pull her closer to me, forcing her back to my chest and whisper in her ear, “Should I let Stephan fuck you?” I don’t let them see the anger, the hate, the deep-seated pain of watching my songbird relive the memories in front of her tormentor. They can’t see yet, but they will suffer. I swear they will pay.

Deep in my core, I have the fear of breaking Aria, of pushing her too hard, but she needs this.

“Carter,” Jase warns, and I only shoot him a gaze of contempt. If this is to go as planned, Romano is the witness whose testimony matters. His perception is the only one that matters.