God of Ruin (Legacy of Gods, #4)

Her words are cut off when I grab strands of her hair and pull until tears gather in her eyes. “The time where you can bullshit me does not and will not exist, Nila. Did you possibly think I wouldn’t find out that you were the one behind Rory’s foolish idea about Mia? He’s as thick as a brick, but you’re not. You’ve always been a conniving little bitch who uses your looks and resources to get anywhere you want. But here’s the thing, Nila. I taught you half of what you know, which you should’ve thought about before you went against your fucking maker.”

Her face reddens as I pull harder with every word. She tries to claw my hand free, but it’s no use. If I choose to, I can squash her faster than a cockroach.

“You’re the one who turned your back on the club and us for that bitch!” Her voice grows in volume as she lets her true face show through.

Greed and contempt stare back at me like a disgusting mirror of my old self. I’m no saint and fortunately never will be, but these types of frivolous, shallow emotions Nila represents have long since been washed out of me.

“So you decided to inflame Rory’s rage and point him toward Mia. Is that it?”

She purses her lips. “So what?”

“You had the audacity to touch what’s mine, Nila, and as I’m sure you found out through Rory’s state, I don’t react well to anyone threatening what belongs to me.”

Her lips lift in a snarl. “What does she have that I don’t?”

“Figures. One thing’s for certain, you fucked up and this is me telling you, I’ll fucking destroy everything you stand for. The friends you think you have? They easily switched to my side after a few words from yours truly. Your beloved papa’s company can effortlessly be crushed if my dad somehow pulls his investments. So here’s a helpful suggestion. Be afraid, Nila. All your worst fears will come true.”

I release her and she crashes against the side of her car, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“She’ll eventually see you for who you truly are and abandon you, Lan!” she shouts at my back. “You can never maintain a relationship, not with her or anyone else!”

I don’t listen to her blabbering as I head to where I parked my car and pull out my phone.

Eli was a good sport and sent me some information. Though it’s not much and by no means concrete evidence, coupling his findings with what I discovered on my own, I’m getting close to the whole truth.

Another text pops up at the top of my screen.

A smile lifts my lips when I find it’s from Mia. She attached a picture of the flowers she’s grown in the garden.

Ever since I found her there three days ago, she’s been going to the haunted house—that’s not so haunted anymore—whenever she has time.

It’s for the flowers, she says. But I often catch her trying to sneak and take a look in the art studio like a curious kitten.

When she was asleep, I hid the piece I was working on in a closet and locked it with a key. Other than that, she’s free to roam around—which can’t be said about anyone else who’s not Mum or Bran.

Lately, I often catch her looking at anything that casts a reflection—mirrors, the refrigerator door, the glass top table—opening and closing her mouth as if she’s trying to speak. She’s probably doing it subconsciously since she usually looks startled whenever she takes note of the situation.

That happens during sex as well. Twice now, she’s opened her mouth, struggled, and then only released a guttural scream.

In a way, it feels as if she’s battling to remove the mental shackles that stole her voice. I have confidence that after I get rid of the vermin who threatened her life, she’ll be able to finally be at peace with her younger self.

I stare at the text she sent with the picture.

Mia: Claudia, Stephan, and Emilia say hi.

Landon: Either you’re crazy and actually gave those flowers names or you’re also crazy and started talking to the resident ghosts of the house, who are in the process of sending me a stern letter about the recent renovations. No clue which crazy is more serious.

Mia: laughing out loud emoji x3 You’re effortlessly funny sometimes. And what do you mean that naming the flowers is crazy? Of course they need names now that they’re blooming. I’ll name the others when they grow as well.

Landon: You do realize they’re not pets, right?

Mia: Of course they aren’t. They’re my friends.

She’s so insane, I love it.

My smile turns to a grin as I type.

Landon: You better be done with all that voodoo by the time I get to the house. There’ll be nothing friendly about what I’ll do to you.

Mia: Promises. Promises.

My dick jumps in my trousers and I have to readjust so I don’t sport a major hard-on for the world to see.

Fuck me.

I’m definitely going to break a few road rules on my way there.

The new flirtatious version of Mia is completely doing my head in. In a good way.

I love that she’s more upfront about what she likes and doesn’t shy away from dropping to her knees when I’m trying to work. It’s a major distraction, but I prefer coming down her pretty throat to touching cold statues for sure.

Movement sounds behind me and I start to turn, but someone wraps an arm around my neck, catching me in a chokehold.

I lift my hands to push it away, but someone else yanks them behind my back.

The stronger they strangle the life out of me, the more lightheaded I get. The last thing I see is Nikolai’s manic face “Payback time, motherfucker.”





34





MIA





I’m undeniably undergoing a drastic change and the worst part is that I can’t describe it.

All I know is that I’ve never been happier in my life.

Free.

Wild.

With no limits but the sky itself.

It’s all because of the crucial role Landon plays in my life. Ever since he forced his way past my walls, I’ve been experiencing a curious sense of novelty, adventure, and happiness.

That’s when I realized that before him, I was only living, never truly alive. I was so caught up in my childhood tragedy that I let it shackle and dictate how I should live my life.

But it doesn’t matter how confident or determined I’ve been, I still let the monster control the very foundation of my being and steal my voice forever.

Maybe that realization is why the recent bursts of happiness I’ve been experiencing seem flawed with a huge black hole in the middle.

Unless I deal with it, I know the hole will keep widening and possibly devour the good. At this point, I’m no different than a kid building a house of sand on the beach and expecting it to remain standing after being hit by a wave.

I still choose to hold on to the vain hope and the sparks of happiness with the desperation of a drowning woman.

I just can’t consider any different circumstances where complete happiness and peace is entirely impossible.

In a dream, maybe.

If I wake up, I’ll never be able to survive.

My heart rate hasn’t gone down since I was texting with Landon.

That was an hour ago.

I finished taking care of my garden, removed my gloves, and freshened up, then waited for him.

And waited.

But there’s still no trace of him.

I’m by the tall window overlooking the entrance, but my car is the only one in the driveway.

I check my watch for the thousandth time.

He made it seem as if he would be here in fifteen minutes, but that’s clearly not the case. He couldn’t have texted me from London or something, right?

This is starting to worry me. Especially since he never replied to the subsequent texts I sent asking about his whereabouts. Lan always replies to my texts.

Always.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I check it so fast, I nearly drop it. My shoulders hunch when I see the name on the lock screen, then guilt gnaws at my insides for feeling disappointed.

I’m such a horrible friend.

Brandon: Hey. Lan is with you, right?

My chest tightens and a burst of uneasiness spreads down my spine.

Bran knows about us and even told me that Lan seems to be genuinely trying not to be his asshole self for the first time. However, he never asks about us or what we do. In fact, he’s the type who’d rather be spared the details, unlike Remi, who called for a ‘meeting’ so he could get the latest gossip.

So the fact that Bran is asking now deviates from a pattern and I don’t like that. I type with unsteady fingers.

Mia: Why are you asking?

Brandon: Just tell me if he’s with you or not. Please.

Mia: He’s not. We were supposed to meet, but it’s taking him longer than usual to get here.