Chapter 74 Seventy Four
NOTE: THIS SCENE MIGHT BE UNSETTLING FOR SOME READERS
OWEN WINTERS
Father's stature wasn't frail nor was it too built up. To say the least, what he loved better was deception rather than strength. Although we topped number one in arms dealing, I had never seen father use one before — he was an indoor mafia.
He stood with such grace before me and I noticed he now used a staff.
“Getting old I see?” I chided, making an attempt to calm the awkwardness between us. “I was in an accident, I'll be using it for a while. It's quite useful though,” he said, not giving in to my teasing.
Typical Winters.
“You didn't tell me you were involved in an accident?” I asked genuinely worried that his leg might not heal.
Father shrugged, his eyes looked tired and dark circles clung to the skin around his eyes. “You had a lot on your plate, but I'm good. As I said, the doctor assured me I'd be walking with two legs instead of three in no time.”
I scoffed partly relieved and partly nonchalant. “Let's cut to the chase, father. Why did you call me here?” I asked, subconsciously digging my hands in my trouser pockets.
Father sighed wearily, before turning to look at me. “It's about your dead brother,” he said and I almost laughed out loud until it dawned on me that Ash Winters was really dead.
Foolish me.
“As you know Dylan Xavier murdered him because he abducted his daughter, and tried to kill her. If he wasn't there on time, I believe she would have been a dead woman-”
With a baby. I wanted to say, but bit my lips shut. “That, I'll talk about with Dylan myself. How are you feeling?” he asked.
Though father's expression was blank, I knew he was dying to know, but I couldn't just let the old man have his way.
“Are you asking as your son or as partners?”
He rolled his eyes, but answered anyway, “I'm asking as the heir to the house of Winters.” I grinned, liking the way the statement sounded in my ears.
“Well, I'm fine, except I'm curious about something.”
Father cocked his head to the side, raising a brow to inquire his curiosity. “Mother mentioned something about the Xavier's…”
“Yes, yes, I know! We are quite popular especially with the women.” A deep voice resonated throughout the room demanding attention. Footsteps were heard as the man's boots hit the ground heavily. It was none other than Dylan Xavier himself.
He came into view walking towards us, then stopped halfway. He looked younger especially with his onyx coloured eyes that shone in the light, and his dressing seemed more… unlike him, respectfully. (White turtleneck shirt with black suit jacket that had a belt which he left flying).
“Keep staring and I'll pluck out those eyes, Winters,” he grinned evilly, his eyes unwavering, locked with mine and embarrassingly I looked away.
“Don't insult my son. You seem to have a knack for hating on sons since you killed one of mine,” Father countered.
“I had my reasons. Your crazy bastard of a son should've known who he was messing with, but I guess he wouldn't know considering his old news now,” Dylan said. His expression did not falter, his voice, though reverberated through the room, sounded regal, and his posture emitted what a mafia truly was.
“And tell me how keeping his body is reasonable?” Father asked, lines of irritation masking his face.
Unlike Dylan, father was impatient and loved to get what he wanted quickly without waiting to be told. “Ohh, that. I actually brought you a little present,” he said grinning from ear to ear. I sighed knowing at this point a fight would break out then a war.
“Should I just let them handle this?” I asked rhetorically, muttering under my breath.
As I turned to leave, Dylan's present came in. A body.
A freaking body.
Ash Winters’s body.
The slight but awful smell filled my nose as he hurled the body on the floor. I stared at the body, his veins were purplish blue and his body bloated. The body of Ash Winters lay on the floor, white and lifeless, fluid leaked from his nose and mouth and his eyes were open. They looked cloudy and bloated as well… it stared into my soul. A sickening feeling settled in my throat and I felt like throwing up.
Father held his nose, and I turned away from him.
Dylan sneered.
“Here's your present, lovely, yes.” If I hadn't known this man for a long time, I would've said he was a psychopath who loved the smell of an already decaying body.
“How cruel can you be, Xavier. This alone can cause a war between us!” Father was outraged.
“Does that matter, I'd win anyway.”
Who did this fucker think he was?
We all knew that even if a war were to start, the Xavier's had the upper hand and crushing us would be like stepping on a piece of banana, only that he wouldn't slip.
Suddenly, Dylan let out a sinister laugh and father joined.
“I got you this time, didn't I Winters?” He asked jokingly.
Father shook his head and that left me in utter confusion. “You did a great job taking out that son of mine, he was already a pain in the add,” he replied and I started to father up all the pieces.
Dylan killed Ash Winters.
Father made Dylan kill him.
Fuck! Those two were sick in the head.
I sighed, shaking my head, and turned to leave, but Dylan stopped me. “You promised to protect Amy, but failed, Owen.” I looked over my shoulder to meet his sharp gaze.
“I regret not killing him myself and…” he raised his hands, stopping me from finishing my statement.
“I'll take her from the hospital, I don't have anything to say to you. Have a nice day, Owen Winters,” he said with finality,and walked out without another word — not to me, not to father.
I looked over at father, but he didn't throw his usual glance at me. “Take out this body, and clean here,” he instructed some servants before walking out.
I was left alone in the room, watching as the servants carried the dead corpse of my enemy.
“I should head home.”