Opening the door, I do my best to school my fear and dismay into an impassive expression. Ethan is sitting in one of the chairs at my father’s desk. He looks as though he’s ready to explode, and his knuckles are white with tension at how hard he’s squeezing the armrests. If this were anyone other than my father, I reckon he’d have snapped by now, and I can see how hard he’s having to restrain himself from doing just that.
I look to my father whose expression is forcibly neutral, but I can easily detect the air of malice and superiority surrounding him, although it’s tainted with something else.
“Devin,” he acknowledges me, “I was just having a conversation with your friend about the work he’s done for us today, and getting to know him a little better.”
Alarm bells are going off in my head, and at my father’s words I notice Ethan’s hands relax and then clench the armrests again. I don’t miss the emphasis he put on the word friend, and I can feel the unease starting to rise again.
“Thank you for your help. Your work today has been exceptional,” I compliment, inclining my head towards Ethan.
My father’s lips twitch into a smile, “Mr. Drake’s work has been exceptional.”
I whip my head up to meet my father’s gaze in time to see his lips twitch into a scowl.
“Cut the bullshit, Devin. When I saw him this afternoon I recognized him instantly. I’m surprised you didn’t, especially with your... connection to him.”
I don’t say anything, instead I stare back at him, my expression stony-faced, as I think quickly, trying to work out a way out of this.
“You’re learning to keep your mouth shut, I see. I was just filling Mr. Drake in on a few details about that night. I thought he’d like to hear in detail how you killed Sebastian’s little whore.”
I grab Ethan by the shoulders when he leaps out of the chair and goes to take a swing at my father. If my father loses his temper there’s no telling what bloodshed will follow, and in Nathaniel Johnson’s eyes, Ethan is worth less than the dirt on his pristine shoes. He already had me kill Ethan’s sister, so he wouldn’t blink twice before ordering me to kill Ethan too. Little does he know that this time I’ll refuse and walk out of those doors before I do that. Sebastian is old enough now to hold his own, and he hasn’t got a little brother to be bribed with like I did when I was only two years older than he is now.
“He’s seen the security footage of that night,” I grit out.
To my astonishment, my father falters, looking at Ethan with narrowed eyes. I frown at him, wondering what could have caused him to hesitate like that. My heart is pounding fast, as I ask him the million-dollar question..
“Did something else happen that night?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ethan
Devin’s hold on my shoulders is the only thing stopping me from lashing out right now. I’m sitting in the chair, vibrating with barely restrained fury at the words this arrogant asshole, who is almost the spitting image of Devin, is spewing about my sister. He knows what he’s doing, and he doesn’t care how it’s making me feel, in fact he seems determined to create a violent response from me. Devin’s words stop me in my tracks, and I turn to look up at him before I glance back to Mr. Johnson, who is looking at me with an unfathomable expression on his face.
Devin is shooting daggers at his father, and his hands tighten on my shoulders. I’m shocked when I realize that it’s not to stop me, but to keep himself in place instead. I did see the footage of that night, but I couldn’t unscramble all of it. There were parts of that night which will forever remain a mystery to me.
“What did you do?” Devin’s tone is low and threatening.
“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.” Mr. Johnson looks coldly at me before refocusing on his son.
“He might have. But, I want to hear it from your lips, Father,” Devin responds evasively.
“Son, you made me proud. You did what I asked of you. You were always too soft when it came to Sebastian,” he begins, and I’m hoping Devin isn’t sidetracked by the obvious diversion attempts.
“Tell me what you did!” Devin booms, demanding an answer to his question.
His grip is almost painful now, and it’s distracting me enough to not lunge at Mr. Johnson who answers in a cold and clinical tone, “I didn’t believe you’d be able to go through with it. Your refusal left me in a tight spot, so I... took care of things.”
“You killed her, and you let me believe I’d done it?” Devin asks incredulously.
“You killed her son, but she would’ve died anyway. I spiked her drink with a lethal amount of ecstasy during the ball.”
I lose it. His callous words and complete disregard for Katy’s life send a white-hot fury raging through me. I lunge at him, punching him across the jaw. Devin grabs me, pulling me back and holding me to him, wrapping his arms in a tight band around my body.
“Let me go!” I snarl, struggling against him.
“No,” he replies, locking me into place.
Lifting my leg I kick his knee, and stomp on his instep. He lets me go with a grunt of pain. Shoving Devin away from me, I turn and straighten up, but an ominous click makes me pause. I look towards Mr. Johnson, who’s standing calmly behind his desk with a gun aimed directly at me, and another sitting just below his hand on the desk in front of him.
“I suggest you stop, Mr. Drake,” he sneers, aim never faltering. “Devin, take the other gun.”
“No, I won’t do it, Father,” Devin says, breathing heavily, back on his feet and moving to stand next to me.
“Damn it, Devin. Do as you’re told!” he bellows, but
