Page 120 of My Dark Divine
Yet, it still didn’t feel like enough.
I keep a measured pace as I walk down the corridor, each step bringing Lucas’s voice into sharper focus.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “After everything I’ve given you, after everything I’ve built, you dare to act on your impulses again!”
I creep toward the doorframe, my steps silent, peeking into the living room. Lucas faces West, whose palms press against the table, his expression one of surrender. The tension between them is suffocating, thick, and venomous, wrapping the room in a toxic haze.
“I don’t regret what I did,” West replies, calm and confident. “Every single one of them deserved it. From the senator to the last two pieces of shit. I can’t live in a world where those who hurt her share the same air she breathes. I will never stop protecting her.”
Lucas lets out a chuckle, a harsh, grating sound that rasps through his chest. “I thought that naïve hope of yours was long gone. But look at you, trying to make another girl fall for the piece of shit you’ve always been.”
My heart stumbles, a trapped bird in my chest, as I watch them together. I try to make sense of it, but my mind is a tangled mess of confusion.
“She’s not just some other girl,” West says defensively, flashing a sharp look. “Our wedding is in a few days, and she’s officially going to be my wife.”
His words act like a catalyst for Lucas. His anger erupts like wildfire, consuming him whole, and the room feels as though it’s holding its breath. It’s clear that anything West says sets him off; he doesn’t need a reason to get furious.
“So, what’s your plan?” His voice drips with mocking sarcasm as he spreads his arms wider, a chillingly calm smile spreading across his face. “You’re useless when you’re obsessed, West, and you know it. She’s going to distract you from the job, and I’d rather die than let that happen. I don’t need a whiny excuse for a man in my company while you’re running around obsessed with her.”
“This is more than just an obsession.”
A flutter of butterflies stirs in my stomach, and I bite my lower lip, trying to keep myself from melting and focus on their conversation.
“It’s even fucking worse!” he roars, his face twisted with frustration. “Your marriage was supposed to be fake. You were never supposed to develop any feelings beyond hatred.”
West pushes away from the table, bypassing it as he walks toward his dad. “I don’t understand. We did everything you asked. We helped with your campaign, we played your game, and you’re still angry?”
The air between them buzzes with an unspoken threat. Lucas takes a step closer, and West shrinks back, his eyes darting nervously around the room. My breath catches in my throat, and I find myself gripping the doorframe, tasting the pressure of the impending storm on my tongue.
West’s palpable anxiety spreads over me like a dark shadow as I watch them. My mind explodes with possibilities, a morbidtapestry of scenarios. I force myself to swallow, fighting to quell the rising panic.
“Of course I’m still angry, you fucking idiot. I won’t stand by while you ruin my business over her. You’re completely consumed, and it only keeps escalating! What will you do if someone crucial to my business looks at her wrong? Hm? What then?”
“Then I’ll gouge his eyes out. I don’t give a fuck about who they are or what positions they hold. I won’t let anybody hurt or disrespect her.”
“This!” he snarls, his finger stabbing the air. “This is what I’m talking about! It stops now, West. Or I fucking swear, I’ll?—”
“You’ll what?” West’s voice, previously subdued, now rings with defiance. He challenges Lucas, a spark of rebellion igniting in his eyes. “You’ll force me to kill someone close to her, just like you made me do with Amelia?”
The chill that grips my blood is a cold, unfamiliar feeling, and I blink rapidly, struggling to make sense of the unease that takes root in my chest. What the fuck is he talking about?
Who is Amelia?
“I’m not that young, naïve boy anymore, Dad. Believe me when I say I’ll kill anyone who hurts her. If you even breathe wrong in her direction, don’t be surprised?—”
A gasp catches in my throat as I raise my hand to my mouth when Lucas slaps West across the face. His head snaps to the side, and for a brief moment, the room is filled with a chilling silence. Then, driven by a fury he can’t contain, Lucas strikes again—harder this time—and the sharp crack of the slap echoes through the space. I watch in shock, memories from my past flooding back—fragments that remind me of the times with my mother or Zayden. Just like I once did, West remains unresponsive to the attack.
Come on, I think. Hit him back. Respond. Refuse to let him treat you like this.
But he doesn’t.
Then, the puzzle pieces I’d never expected to fit together snap into place, revealing a horrifying truth.
It was his father all along. The rumors about West fighting with everyone his eyes could spot weren’t true—he wasn’t the one throwing the punches. It was Lucas who kept beating him. I still remember the day we made our way to the airport, how he blasted the music to drown out the sound of his heavy breaths, and how his face was covered in bruises.
And his scars.
So many fucking scars.
