Chapter 28 Twenty Eight
Early August
The smell of smoke and alcohol blessed the room. The man in the turtle neck lit the cigar that was stuck in between his index and middle finger. This was the second one today.
He put the cigar in his lips and sucked in air.
Pathetic.
“Sir, you needn't bother, Dylan Xavier shot her.” Someone said from the shadows. The room had less lighting and the curtains were down, only an almost dying light bulb hung in the middle of the room.
“I know. You did a good job leaving him, you won't regret it,” the man said and waved his hands signalling the young man to leave.
“I can't believe I'm finally at this point after years of planning. That girl was the right piece for my plan,” he muttered.
Lucian let out a soft growl. The news hadn't spread about Annie's death, but he knew… Lucian knew everything.
He tossed the cigar in the ashtray and sighed. Dylan Xavier had everything he wanted and he craved that. After the death of his uncle, Dylan left and never looked back. He turned away from his own family and raised an empire… he still kept the name Xavier and that was more irritating.
His own cousin spat him in the face, that was when he decided he was going to be better than him. Dylan got married not long after and he suddenly wanted his wife, then his child… then Anastasia died. It was so easy to kill her. Her death was a thrill especially how he watched him blame himself.
Little by little Lucian was going to take down his brother and finally have his empire. Dylan was going to be so emotionally down that he wouldn't be on guard.
This is going to be fun. Lucian smirked.
Everyone knows that feeling.
A feeling of betrayal and frustration, one that could kill.
A feeling of hopelessness.
Dylan Xavier sat on the kitchen floor, he could feel her scent everywhere_ how she cooked and cleaned. She was everywhere in his house and haunted him even in his sleep. He had never felt this empty even after Anastasia's death. The feeling gnawed at him but he deserved it.
He deserved the hatred his daughter, Amelia felt for him.
A week had passed and it was early August, the weather was hot as the sun shone brightly.
It was noon, but he didn't care. He hadn't checked up on Amy or how Annie was doing because the doctor hadn't said anything or maybe he had, but he wasn't in the right state of reasoning.
A bottle fell on the ground and shattered. Dylan looked at his hands and then at the broken bottles, he didn't even know he was holding one.
“Fuck this,” he muttered beads of sweat running down his face and disappearing into his clothes. His hair was disheveled, he hadn't washed up for days now but that also didn't matter.
The event replayed in his head again and again and he felt all the more guilty. Amy couldn't look at him… she didn't even want to see him.
“I hate you,” she had said and for the first time slammed the door to his face. He didn't even know what was happening and had cancelled all the meetings, shut the estate and severed all connections with the outside world.
After Anastasia, he had promised not to love again, but he met Annie and it was undeniable that he would do anything for her. He tried everything just not to love her, yet he got all the more attached and ended up killing her. When he had finally found someone he could be normal with, he had fucked up and kill-shot her just because of his own rage.
Dylan bit his lips until it bled, but he could care less. He would do anything just to atone for his crimes and strangely prayed it made her feel better.
Just then, Sophia entered the kitchen and stared at her boss, he had never been so broken in his life even when his own father fucked him up. She watched the tears roll from his eyes to his bleeding lips.
“You need to brace yourself, sir, at least for Amelia,” she said and he looked up at her as though he just realized she was standing there.
“I killed her… mother said I would and I did… I'm a monster just like my father. How can I brace myself, Sophia, I can never forgive myself and Amelia hates me.” He let out air from his mouth. His eyes finally had colour_ obsidian black.
“You need to take a shower and I'll make something…”
“I won't eat anything Annie didn't make.” Sophia sighed and began picking up the broken bottle.
She had never seen him this down.
Let Annie live or he'd kill himself! She thought.
Amelia lay on the bed, her legs resting on the wall. She dialled a number and it picked on the third ring.
“Hi, beautiful.” Someone said and she rolled her eyes. “It's Amelia!” She snapped, surprised she called herself by her full name.
It's Amy, daddy calls me…
She stopped herself from thinking of her father.
Owen Winters laughed and strangely she felt at ease. “What's the problem, princess, heard your father shut the Winters out… actually shut us out.” He turned serious. Amy sighed. “He shot Annie,” she blurted out. There was silence for a while before he spoke.
“Annie is… dead?”
“She was taken to the hospital, no news. You know father knows his guns well, he mostly gives a kill shot.”
It's daddy not father!
She scolded herself.
“I thought they… you're lying sweetheart… Annie couldn't be… is she?” The young boy stuttered. He couldn't believe she was dead. He liked Annie a lot though she could be clueless at times. When Amy said nothing, he knew it was true.
“I'll tell father about it, he is so pissed off about Dylan shutting him out,” he stated.
“Can you come over then? Or you're in Paris?” She asked and he said nothing. “I'm in Paris and father wouldn't let me. Sweetheart I'm sorry,” he muttered so quietly that she strained her ears just to hear him.
Amy didn't want to talk about anything related to her father, she was annoyed with him and couldn't even look him in the face.
Amelia loved her father, she looked up to him, but that night, she had seen a different man. She still couldn't believe her own father would do such a thing. After what happened, he had shut himself out from everyone and began drinking. He was pathetic.
“Let's talk about something else, Owen,” she called his name and it surprised her. “Well… if you say so, beautiful. How was your day… no, I shouldn't ask that, it was obviously terrible… I …” he gave up. Amy chuckled. “You're weird, Owen.” She had said his name again.
“We all are, Amy. We're all fucked up in our own way especially children like us put in this sort of shitty business,” he said and she winced. He was right.
They said nothing for a while, then he spoke. “Well, I'm being treated badly in the new school I'm in because I'm different from my parents,” he said, easily changing the subject.
“Why?”
“You know, colour, father and mom are white and I'm… but it doesn't matter. I know I'm adopted but why should I care, Mr Winters loves me the way I am.” Amy said nothing. “I'm sorry,”
“Don't pity me, father chose me from the orphanage because of my eyes, and I'm grateful, Amelia.” He scoffed.
“You're tough,” she said and he laughed. “No, sweetheart, you are. I'll tell father, he'll help.”
“Thanks, Owen.” She was grateful and she meant it.
She sighed heavily, she needed to at least eat something.