Chapter 49: Matricide

Mrs. Astor turned as the two of them stood close together in the doorway. She smiled.

“So good of you to join us,” she said. “I was beginning to think you were just going to lurk in the hall all day.”

She stalked towards them, giving Sonia a once over. “Sonia, dear, I would have much less of a problem with you if you stood to inherit anything. As it stands, Arabella has already had two eligible offers and I simply cannot allow her to risk our empire for something as frivolous as feelings.”

She looked at Lavinia. “You, on the other hand, were never an option. Though, I cannot exactly blame you for this whole affair. It’s Isaac’s weakness that led you here. He should have taken care of you when he had the chance.”

“Which time?” Cyril asked with a smirk. “When she was kept in his pantry or after you gave the order to kill her?”

He vaulted over the couch, coming to sit on the armrest. He crossed his legs and leaned forward. It was impossible to deny his beauty. Every detail in his face seemed sculpted, designed to be alluring. Every detail except for his eyes. Cyril’s eyes looked vacant. Not the same as Isaac’s had been under Mrs. Astor’s thrall, but there was something missing in his gaze.

“I am sorry, Sonia,” he said. “I’d have gone for either sibling too. It’s a shame we had to land on the same one.”

Sonia looked away, staring at the floor. Lavinia, puzzled, looked to Isaac. The scowl on his face was interrupted with a similar look of confusion. His eyes flicked between Sonia and his sister, seeing the panic on Arabella’s face.

“I probably should have let her have that conversation with you, Izzy. Though I suppose I would be open to a compromise. Inheritance is inheritance after all.”

“That’s enough, Cyril,” said Mrs. Astor. She moved to the side of the couch. “There is no reason to delay. Kill them while I get these two in order.”

“Oh, but I thought that would be a lovely family activity.” He tipped backward over the couch, laying across Isaac’s lap and resting his head on Arabella. She jerked her hands up, attempting to push Cyril off of her.

Isaac looked down at Cyril, considering his cloudy eyes. He glanced at his mother, an idea forming.

“Are our actions really so repulsive to you, mother, that you prefer this?” He asked. He grabbed Cyril by his collar, hauling him into a sitting position. “I would consider this a bit dramatic, even for you.”

“At least he wants the responsibility. He adheres to my wishes without needing to be forced to comply.” She walked behind the sofa, placing her hands over Isaac’s eyes. He froze.

“No!” Lavinia shouted. She rushed towards Isaac but Cyril stood, intercepting her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Don’t get involved, sweetheart,” he said. “It will be much easier if you just stand down.”

Isaac had stopped moving.

“Isaac, don’t let her do this to you. Focus.”

“That’s cute,” he twisted his arms around Lavinia, holding her in a headlock. His elbow tightened around her windpipe, making her choke and gasp for air.

From the couch, Arabella launched herself at Cyril, tackling both him and Lavinia to the floor. Lavinia scrambled to her feet, rushing back to Isaac. Mrs. Astor had let go of him, standing smugly behind the couch. His eyes were closed, moving rapidly under his eyelids. Lavinia knelt in front of him, taking his hands.

“Isaac, stay with me,” she pleaded. His hands twitched, his grip becoming a vice. Lavinia did not pull away.

“I would refrain from getting that close,” said Mrs. Astor. She settled onto the couch beside Isaac. “I’d hate to see your blood on his nice clothes.”

“Isaac-”

“Oh just give him time.” Mrs. Astor turned to watch Arabella and Cyril. They were on the ground in a tangle of fabric. There was blood on Arabella’s face, but neither seemed to be winning.

Isaac’s eyes snapped open. They were muddled, a grey haze over them. He looked down at Lavinia, considering her. The haze swirled, becoming less distinct. He let go of her hands and faced his mother, his posture becoming more relaxed.

“I think you’ve lost your touch, mother.”

She stood up, hand moving to clutch her necklace. Isaac got to his feet, moving toward her. His walk was slow, almost predatory.

“I’ll think I’ll miss the unadulterated violence,” he said. “I should get my fill now.” He advanced past her, walking to the fireplace. He pulled the poker from the fireplace. “I have been looking forward to this for a long time.”

He swung the poker hard, striking Mrs. Astor hard across the face. Her head whipped to the side, black blood splattering across the couch.

“How dare you, she growled,” as she wiped the blood off of her face. She tried to make eye contact with Isaac, her eyes flashing white. “You ungrateful bastard-”

Isaac stuck her again, knocking her head the other way. “You have no right to call me ungrateful. You’ve spent your entire life trying to mold me into something I’m not. You had two chances to have relationships with your children and you took neither. Instead, you hurt, ostracized, and tormented us. You made this family unlivable and this company a corrupted sham. Goodbye, mother.”

With an almost manic grin, Isaac took the fireplace poker and rammed it through Vivian Astor’s chest. She gasped, a horrible rattle shaking her body. She slumped forward, her eyes finally fluttering shut.