Chapter 130 Daxton’s Birthday
Kian
It’s been two weeks since that awful incident with Verena happened. I’d lived in fear, moved in with my parents until it felt safe to come out.
Safe.
That was what I believed until the last two nights. I pulled over at the gas station, stepped down to fuel my tank only to get attacked by this biker. The struggle that followed ended with me having several stab wounds.
It was only when he heard the wail of the police siren, that he got on his bike and fled. If it weren’t for that intervention, I would have ended up dead.
And that tattoo on the attacker’s arm, it was the same one I’d seen on Atlas’s biker friends the first time they attacked and beat me up for getting Verena pregnant.
Atlas was after me.
To complicate things, my uncle who hardly celebrated his birthday invited both my parents and me for a birthday dinner.
Something was wrong or about to go wrong.
I had no plans of honoring the invitation that screamed—death sentence—but dad said it was a chance to right all my wrongs and he wouldn’t allow me to miss it.
After the dinner, I would be taking the morning flight to Peru and lay low. Spend four to five years there until everything dies down.
My stomach churned with nerves as I rang the doorbell. I doubted that I could face Verena. After that stunt that I pulled, I was sure that her hate towards me had worsened.
I was right, she hated me.
The smile slowly faded from my face, uneasiness curling low in my stomach as she looked at me with so much hate that it almost made me sick.
That was the moment the harsh reality sank in. I’d lost her. Forever. Nothing could redeem me before her again.
Mum gasped. “Oh My God, you look stunning and…”
Verena’s eyes cut to my mum. “It sickens me when you try to act sweet to me or get along with me. Daxton isn’t here so cut the act already,”
Mum’s lips lifted in a sneer. “Daxton has filled your head with so much confidence that you are starting to forget your place. Look at you talking rudely to me. At this rate, one would think that the mansion belongs to you,”
A growl of disapproval rumbled from my throat.
“Mum…”
Verena scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I don’t think the mansion belongs to me. I know it is mine. Piss me off and I will have the security throw you out,”
“What!”
Dad cleared his throat behind us, Mikael helping him up the small steps. “Jana for Christ’s sake, can we have a moment of peace?” his voice was low.
The daunting look in his eyes had faded, and whenever I saw him this way, my heart always splintered into pieces. Dad had faced certain health relapses, a condition that the family doctor refused to share with us.
I didn’t know what it was but I knew it was life-threatening.
A night had never passed without Mum crying because she didn’t know what was wrong and how to help him. On the outside, she was sharp-tongued but on the inside, she carried a lot of pain only the nights were a witness to.
“I didn’t start anything—” I could see that subtle flicker of sadness in her eyes. “She started it first,”
“Where is my brother?”
“He is inside waiting,”
Verena stepped aside, exchanging pleasantries with Mikael as he walked past her. The only time she smiled it was with him.
I released a slow breath, mustering the courage to speak to her. “Hi,”
Her gaze slowly settled on me, anxiety clawing up my throat as I reached for the artwork that was placed against the wall.
It was a painting of her and my uncle. One that didn’t come from my heart. I didn’t even think about it, Dad was the one who suggested it for the sake of peace. If I could set it on fire, I would have.
“This is only for peace…” I reminded myself.
“I had this made for you by the popular artist, Ethan Swa—” my words cut off when those brown eyes with rage burning inside of them clashed with mine as her face fell into a deep frown.
The hatred that was smeared on her face.
It scared me.
I knew I did Verena dirty. More times than I was willing to admit. But the things I did weren’t that bad and I certainly didn’t deserve this level of hatred from her.
“Matilda,” she called.
“Yes, Miss Verena,” a woman came, wiping her hands on a napkin.
“Please take this from this man,”
Relief slammed into my chest because she accepted my gift until—
“And trash it,”
She shot one final glare at me and strutted away, her hips swaying by the side while I remained at the same spot with a heavy weight sinking into my chest.
My Uncle plated Verena’s food, while he kissed her cheeks before he sat at the head of the table. I rolled my eyes, fighting the anger that festered in my belly.
Stay Calm. Don’t cause a scene. Make it through this night and leave for Peru tomorrow morning.
I inhaled a lungful of air, forcing a smile onto my face. “Happy Birthday Uncle…”
Uncle Daxton turned his gaze to me—something was chilling about his eyes that unsettled me—but that smile on his face made it hard to decipher. “Thank you…Nephew,” Cold.
I blinked my eyes away, lifting the fork to my mouth, and for a second, thoughts about the Carbonara being poisoned ran through my mind. It was definitely something my Uncle was capable of doing.
For a second fear made my pulse rush in my veins until I flitted my gaze around and noticed everyone was eating the same dish. He couldn’t have singled me out, right?
I forced the fork in my mouth, chewing on fear and pasta. Panic filled my thoughts? Do I spit it out? What if—
“My mum,”
My uncle’s voice sliced through the voices in my head and I almost choked on the food in my mouth.
His mum?
This couldn’t be good.
He sliced his meat, raised a tiny piece to his mouth, and chewed. “She died on this day. My birthday,”
Silence.
The food went stale in my mouth, the tension in the room shifting into something cold while my heartbeat hammered in my chest.
“Why are you bringing this up?”
Dad’s raised voice took me back as I swung my head to him only to see the anger taking over his eyes.
A smile crept at the corner of my uncle’s mouth, a spark of dark amusement in his eyes. “The last I checked. She is my mum. Not yours,”
“Daxton…” Verena's voice cut through the tension.
He smiled at her. “It’s okay,”
“Sure?” She whispered.
“I can do this, Princess,”
Princess? Jealousy reared its ugly head as I shifted my gaze only for my eyes to clash with Mikael’s eyes. What was he still doing here? He wasn’t even family.
I glared at him and averted my gaze immediately.
“I don’t have many good memories of my childhood but I still remember watching her sing in Opera houses. Everything was so perfect. Perfect dad. Perfect mum. It almost felt like a fever dream. Then our lives went dark when he accused her of having an affair with her manager,”
A growl tore from Dad’s throat, my heart almost jumping out of my throat as he slammed his fist on the table—the plates rattling from the impact. “Daxton, what is the meaning of this?”
There was this look of indifference on my uncle’s face as he sipped on his wine and continued. “That night. He told her to quit her job as an opera singer. I was sitting on the couch, watching as she stood her ground—saying she would rather leave than give up her career,”
“That riled him up so badly that he hit her on the face and locked her up. She tried running away with me so many times only to be found, dragged back, and locked in the basement,”
I swallowed hard.
“I tried to save her,” his eyes melted as he stared into nothing while Verena held his hand tightly.
These two…
“One time, I walked into the police station and reported that evil man myself. Brother of the year,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Neil picked me up, assured me I was safe, told the police I was just a kid whose words didn’t matter, and then handed me back to my dad—who beat me and threw me in the basement with my mum,”
“We were imprisoned, the house heavily guarded, the maids fired after Dad spread the story that she was missing. Since I was homeschooled that year, I was sometimes allowed out of the basement. While the tutor wandered through the empty house, I cooked for my mum and sneaked the food back to her—she was fed only once a day. Neil saw everything and chose to turn a blind eye.”
“Sometimes she was allowed out of the basement, only to return before that monster came home,”
I blinked hard, trying to process what I’d just heard as I turned to Dad whose eyes had darkened.
“Then when the fire started, he was there. He could’ve saved her but he didn’t. Together with his dad, they covered my mum’s death who was pregnant,”
Uncle Daxton shifted his gaze to Dad, eyes cold and dark. “So the next time you run your mouth to your son, be sure to give all the facts…But I doubt that there will be a next time,"
While Verena sobbed quietly, I was fixated on what he just said.
What was that supposed to mean?
Dad barked out a scoff. “Rayna was no Angel. She was a whore who ruined my parents’ marriage and made my mum cry,”
Uncle Daxton smirked. “Blame your dad for not keeping his dick in his pants!”
Before dad could shout in rebuttal, mum raised her voice. “Enough!”
“Daxton, I know you feel wronged or…I don’t know. But why are you bringing up the past here?”
Uncle Daxton tilted his head, a smile creeping at the corner of his mouth. “Jana, you sure do know how to talk,”
He leaned forward, his gaze narrowed on her. “Do you want to know why Mikaelson lived with you?”
My brows furrowed.
“Because he is the product of the affair Neil had with the butler. Mikaelson is Neil’s son and one more thing, Kian’s name has been struck from the will and everything now belongs to Mikael.”