Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
After all, everyone is a sinner, deep down. Everyone deserves to be punished.
Even him.
The longer I dig, the more I’m beginning to realize that he’s never paid for his.
For all the hurt he’s inflicted on his sinners.
All the pain he’s inflicted on me.
All the suffering he made my mother endure.
“Can you even do one thing correctly?” he growls while towering over me from behind.
Even though I’m doing the best that I can, it’s still not enough for him. It never will be. This man will never be satisfied. He will never quit.
I pause for a moment while digging, taking a few deep breaths.
“You will never be able to take over if you just give up like that,” he says.
“Did it ever occur to you I might not want to?”
I don’t know why I say it, but I do. I can’t help myself. I’ve taken so much from him over the years that I don’t care anymore.
“Tsk, you’re just like your mother. Useless,” he says. “But I’ll make a man out of you.”
His words cut like a knife straight into my heart.
My mother …
She may have hated me for existing, but she was still a human being.
And he tormented her so much that she despised being alive to the point of trying to jump.
One month.
That’s all she was given after she tried … before he killed her himself with his own bare hands. She was asleep. She couldn’t fight him off.
My father’s assistant found her cold in the bed, with the markings still clearly visible around her throat.
No one said a word.
Not even me.
How could I when I knew what he was capable of?
When I saw with my own eyes what awaited me if I tried to defy him?
His rage was enough to kill my mother … and even though she hated me, she didn’t deserve that fate. She deserved justice.
I thought my father always said that no one is without sin and that sinners deserved to be punished. But did he ever get punished for his crimes?
“She deserved better than you,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Who?” he muses.
I’m seething with hatred. “My mother.”
He makes a face. “Why do you even care? She hated you.”
“Because you made her have me!” I yell, and in that same moment, I spin on my heels and strike him with the shovel.
I didn’t mean to hit him so hard.
But his voice and the words he spoke made me want to strike back at this menace.
It’s just like that girl once said at my mother’s funeral … Sins never do anyone any good.
When the blade makes contact with his skin, it crushes his skull, and his body flops sideways onto the forest ground. Blood oozes from his nose, mouth, and ears.
Hatred makes people do wretched things.
And it will always breed more hatred in return.
Chapter 18
Amelia
Present
I’m flabbergasted by his story.
He actually killed his own father for murdering his mother.
And all I can do is stare at him with my mouth wide open.
“I buried him in the same hole on top of the sinner he wanted to bury,” he adds.
I swallow. “Is that … out there in the woods in front of the house?”
When he nods, my whole body feels like it’s twisted into knots. I can’t believe he actually killed people, let alone his father. Well, I knew he said he had killed… but to hear the entire story straight up from his mouth is still hard.
“You must be scared of me now,” he says, sighing out loud.
I lower my eyes. “Well … I did ask for it.”
“Right.” He folds his arms. “I’m not ashamed of what I did. He deserved it.”
I lick my lips. “Because of what he did to your mom?”
“She hated me. But she didn’t deserve to die.” His nostrils flare as he pauses for a moment. “My father was unfit to rule this House.”
“And you are?” I raise a brow.
He steps away from me. “I never claimed I was. But this house has to continue.”
“Why?”
“Because there are people out there depending on us,” he explains, sucking in a breath. “And I have realized that this place offers a way out for those who have no other choice.”
For some reason, that last sentence really ticks me off. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“I know,” he says, looking me dead in the eyes.
The conversation grows quiet again.
I don’t even know why I wanted to know all this. I guess a part of me is trying to find out the reasons behind all his choices. The reasons for me being here. So I can maybe, maybe understand him a little bit better.
But I realize now that doing so would only mean giving him more ammo against him. Because understanding a man like him means I have feelings for him, something I cannot allow myself to ever feel, no matter how hard he tries.