216 The Ghost Of YouÂ
Two Weeks LaterÂ
I raised the silencer. When my father opened his eyes, the gun was already pointed atÂ
him.Â
“This is another level of disrespect…” He eyed me closely. “You look well. Well enough to do this.”Â
My finger moved to the trigger.Â
“You aren’t gonna kill me, Ares,” he spoke calmly, pressing the button, and the bed slowly lifted him upright.Â
“You hate me, and I was never a good father to you, but we have an understanding, one that cannot be easily… shot at.”Â
I tilted my head slowly. “I have a question for you.”Â
“You may ask.”Â
“Hannah and Vincent Walker… Do you remember them?”Â
He huffed. “I see what this is about. It’s about that wife of yours, isn’t it?” She left you. I know, son. I know. And you have been looking for her ever since. Any progress?”Â
“..”Â
“I suggest you don’t waste your time. You can always remarry. You’re Don, the entire empire is yours, as befitting of our name, you’re a King. You’ll need a woman by your side, and then an heir. A son.”Â
“I asked a question,” I reprised, disregarding his words.Â
They mean nothing to me, everything that comes out of that mouth. The only thing I needed was to hear him say it.Â
He glared at me but replied. “Yes, I do recall that name, only when it was mentioned. I have blood on my hands as much as you do, son. It was just tragic that her parents were victims…”Â
I shot his leg.Â
Before he could cry out, I used my hand to cover his mouth, his noise muffled as heÂ
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216 The Ghost Of YouÂ
struggled. He couldn’t move properly because of the treatment, so all he could do was gape wide–eyed at me and tremble.Â
I leaned down to him, and his nostrils flared. “Shh… It would be more pathetic if you cried over something like that, don’t you agree, Father?”Â
His eyes darkened, his helplessness worsening everything for him. If there was one thing I knew about my father, it was that he never liked weakness.Â
He listened and stopped struggling, so I released my hand.Â
My father could really see it now, what he hadn’t noticed since I walked into this room; disbelief screamed on his face, as I appeared a stranger before him.Â
“Y–You said death was a mercy.”Â
“Not for you.”Â
I lost count of the times I fired muted shots, not until the white sheets changed red, IÂ
stopped.Â
I drew harshly on my breathing as my hand fell to my side, eyeing the masterpiece I had created. If there was ever a need for an orchestral, it would be now, because this was all too cinematic to let it pass.Â
I had told myself I would draw the line when it comes to spilling my father’s blood, so I let Agatha do her magic when she thought she was sneaky about it.Â
I should condemn myself for doing this… but all I felt was… nothing, except a sense ofÂ
pride.Â
I pulled the trigger for you, baby. I wish you were here to see it.Â
I walked out of the room, handing my gun to one of my men. Nico walked beside me, and I didn’t need to start asking.Â
“It’s been confirmed, Reed helped her. Which explains why we can’t find anything. He’s covering their tracks really well.”Â
Reed. I should have killed him when I had the chance. I thought he understood one thing I held above all fucking virtues. Loyalty. From my men.Â
It appeared I was wrong, and now he had disappeared along with the only woman who could put a bullet through my heart.Â
I faced Nico and grasped his collar. A frightened look took over his face.Â
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“Keep searching…” I said calmly, too calm that I didn’t even believe I formed the words without growling them out.Â
I had passed the point of rage or anger. All I felt was turmoil I can’t describe, and no ease could ever bring me peace, not until I found her.Â
~4~Â
My shoes echoed as I walked into the living room. My house lacked nothing, yet it had never been emptier. Like the heart of it has been ripped out, the colors transformed back to their original state, and devoid of warmth.Â
It had always been like that from the onset, but the months spent with Catherine had altered everything.Â
I looked towards the kitchen and saw the ghost of her, sitting on my counter, wearing just a cami and panties as she ate her cereal.Â
She was never the kind of person who did things in order. She was carefree and high–spirited, like a bird taking its first flight. I never realized how much soul she had filled my space with until now.Â
I walked close, hoping I could touch and feel the warmth of her skin, but she faded away. She reappeared in my living room next, watching TV with her legs to her chest, changing position to lie down, holding the pillows like the teddy I once set ablaze.Â
I moved close again, but she was already standing and going up the stairs. I followed, tracking a ghost, but she wasn’t one to me. She was real.Â
I stepped into her room, but I couldn’t see her anymore. Just like the rest of the house, there was no soul here. It was so hollow, I could hear the echoes of my mind; it was so loud, so strained.Â
I sat down on the bed, burying my hands in my hair. The pain in my chest intensified, and breathing became harder.Â
I let her slip through my fingers. I should have held onto her tighter, I should have… I should have given her my heart even though I didn’t know how to use the damn thing. It was better off in her possession than it ever was with me.Â
She was everything I ever wanted and more, and like a fucking idiot, like the damaged man I was, I destroyed it.Â
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217 Take Me Back To The Day We MetÂ