87: Matteo Cross
KILLIAN
Her eyes widened, but she didn't speak. I could tell that she was drowning under her doubts. Arabella had done what she always does. She'd sown poison and watched it bloom. But it wasn't her venom that I cared about.
It's what I saw on Sera's face.
Guilt. Fear. And doubt.
"Come with me," I told her softly.
She hesitated, and I saw the war flash in her eyes. I didn't wait for her to decide. I walked to the closet, grabbed a shirt, and pulled it over my head with hands that were still stiff and aching. My body screamed with every movement, still healing from the drugs, the beatings, and the restraints that Arabella and Matteo used.
But this pain was nothing compared to the one roaring in my chest.
Sera followed me without a word, her face pale.
Roman was already waiting outside the door, straightening when he saw me fully dressed.
"She's still in the East Wing chamber. Matteo's in Interrogation Three," he reported. "Guard rotation's been doubled."
I nodded once.
Rafael was already there when we arrived, leaning against the glass wall outside the chamber. His arms were folded, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. He'd claimed that he'd quit smoking, but I had a feeling that all that stress had caused him to relapse.
His jaw ticked when he saw me, his eyes darting to Sera, then back to me.
"You shouldn't be walking," he murmured.
"Don't be dramatic."
"You nearly died, Killian."
"Yeah. It comes with the line of business," I drawled, stepping past him. "Where is he?"
Rafael jerked his head towards the steel door at the end of the corridor.
I started walking with Sera following closely behind me.
"Are you sure about this?" Rafael called after us.
"No," I answered. "But I'm doing it anyway."
We reached the chamber, with me entering first.
And there he was.
Matteo Cross. My brother. My former best friend. The man who once taught me how to throw my first punch now wants to put a bullet in my head.
He was chained to the reinforced chair, bloodied but upright. He kept his chin high, his eyes still full of that goddamn superiority he'd always worn like armor.
"Well, well," he drawled. "The prodigal heir limps in. Looking surprisingly alive, little brother."
I stopped in front of him and stared down at him, tension swirling thick in the air.
Sera lingered behind me. Rafael moved in beside her, his arms crossed. His expression had gone blank.
"What? You look pissed? Are you going to cry about how much I hurt you and hope you convince me that you're not the real enemy?" He mocked.
My fist flew before I could think.
The crack echoed in the room as Matteo's head whipped to the side. He spat blood to the side and laughed.
Bastard.
"That's the Killian I remember. The one who always played second but hit first."
"You drugged me," I hissed. "And tortured me."
"You destroyed me first," he snapped, the smile on his face vanishing. "You sold me out."
He looked so convinced, it pissed me off even more.
"I never sold you out," I hissed. "You were already gone."
"You took the company. The empire. You got the girl. You even got Dad's approval before he died, didn't you?"
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sera flinching.
And Matteo saw it.
Dad’s approval, huh? If only the idiot knew.
"She didn't tell you, huh?" he sneered. "That she was mine first? Betrothed to me when she was younger. We were supposed to rule together until you slithered your way into her bed."
"That betrothal was a fucking joke," I growl. "You never wanted her. You just wanted control."
"Oh, that's not true. We had sex—" he didn’t get to complete his statement, I slammed a hammer on his fingers. He howled in agony.
"You're pathetic. Can you hear yourself? What the heck is wrong with you?" Rafael cut in, his voice icy.
Matteo stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.
"Oh, fuck off, Raf. You always played the jester, don't try to be the moral compass now."
Rafael stepped forward, flicking his cigarette to the floor and crushing it under his heel.
"Yeah, I was the jester," he murmured. "Because I thought if I didn't laugh, I'd kill one of you."
His eyes locked on Matteo's. “But now? I don't feel like laughing."
Matteo shifted his gaze to me. "Rue is my daughter, you know that, don't you?"
"I don't care," I snarled. "Because even if Rue wasn't mine by blood, which I still don't believe, she is mine in every fucking way that counts."
Matteo smirked. "You sound like a desperate man."
"No," I responded calmly. "A desperate man would kill you. I'm not desperate."
He stiffened.
I glanced over my shoulder at the men behind Rafael.
"Keep him alive. But break the leg he favors."
"Left," Rafael said flatly, reaching for the drawer of tools.
"And Raf?" I paused.
"Yeah?"
"Make him feel it."
Rafael smiled coldly. "With pleasure."
Then I walked out with Sera.
We didn't speak until we reached the hallway. Finally, she stopped and turned to face me. "Killian..."
"Whatever happened before you met me... I don't care," I said. "I care about us. About Rue. About what we build. No ghost is going to take that from me."
Her eyes welled up with tears, and I took her hand.
"We're going to get a DNA test," I told her gently. "To shut this down forever. But know this. No matter what it says, Rue is mine. And so are you."
Her lips parted, her tears falling freely.
...
I'd almost made it out of the building when the door down the corridor slammed open.
"Killian!" Rafael called out.
I turned, surprised.
Rafael strode down the corridor with something clutched in his hand. A flash drive. His face was pale. His knuckles were white around the object.
"You're going to want to see this."
We headed back to the chamber where Matteo was still strapped, now groaning in pain, his left leg twisted unnaturally.
I followed him in with Sera.
"What is it?" I asked.
Rafael didn't answer. He moved to the monitor on the wall, shoved the drive into the port, and punched in a sequence.
The screen flickered, with blurry security footage playing on the screen.
The camera was shaky, but the audio was clear.
Arabella's voice was the first sound I heard. "He doesn't know. He still thinks Matteo was the one who took the fall."
The second was an unknown masculine voice. "And Killian still believes the raid was an accident?"
"Of course. He'll take the empire eventually. Matteo will fall. We'll pin the betrayal on him. By the time Killian finds out the truth, it'll be too late. We pitch both brothers against each other. Matteo is the weaker link, but we can use him to get rid of Killian and take over the empire."
I clenched my fists, anger sizzling inside of me.
Matteo looked up at the screen, blinking rapidly. "What... what is that?"
"Arabella," Rafael said grimly. "Selling you out. She was working both sides. You didn't get betrayed by Killian, Matteo. You were just in the wrong place with the wrong whore. And worse, there seems to be a bigger enemy."
"No." Matteo shook his head. "No, no, no—"
Matteo's face twisted. "That's not… She told me...she told me it was him! There were proofs!"
"She lied," I snapped. "She used both of us."
"No," he choked, staring at the screen as if he could rewind the past if he glared hard enough.
I leaned in slowly.
"I never betrayed you," I said. "But you were so desperate to be the empire's heir, you never even asked if I did."
Matteo looked down at his broken leg and his bound hands, then at me.
A ragged sob tore out of him. It was ironic how smug he’d been not too long ago.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Killian, I—I didn't know. I swear I didn't—"
"I know," I said flatly. "That's what makes it worse."
Tears fell from his eyes, trailing into the blood along his jaw.
"I thought you were trying to take everything from me," he choked. "The company. The family. Her."
Sera stiffened beside me.
"I don't want your empire, Matteo," I said. "I never did. I just wanted you to see me. To believe in me like I used to believe in you."
Matteo's sob turned into a full breakdown. "I'm sorry," he cried again, his head dropping. "I...I can't undo what I did to you. Or her. I...God—I didn't even know..."
Sera stepped forward. "Whatever Arabella told you, she lied. Just like she lied to me."
Matteo looked like he'd just been kicked in the ribs.
"But Rue..." he whispered.
Rafael snorted. "Rue's three. The timing doesn't add up."
I turned to look at Sera slowly, the rest of the puzzle clicking into place.
"Three?" I asked softly.