COLT
The room is exactly as I remember it. Rich, suffocating. Wood-paneled walls lined with expensive liquor, crystal glasses that have never touched the lips of anyone who wasn’t important.
The fireplace is lit, throwing long shadows across the study, making everything feel too warm, too decadent, too f*****g haunted because that’s what this place is.
A graveyard of deals made in blood. A kingdom built on the backs of men who thought they could outplay him. It’s funny how I used to play in this place like it’s a f*****g castle and I am the prince. Well, I mean, technically, I am still the prince except my father is not really a king or my life is some sort of fairytale.
"Hello, Father," I say as I twirl and watch how the old man’s eyes widened in fear. I roll the knife between my fi
