Claimed By My Father's Sin

Your Future Husband

♠️WORTH'S POV🖤

L©ND©N

"What’s your name, beautiful?”

“W...worth Cassandra Ashcroft.”

If he chooses me then it’s over. My eyes had left him for a while, just to find Father’s gaze on me—calculating, stern—and I had to look away almost immediately. I watched the mouth of the Sir who had introduced himself as Giuseppe in a non-British accent move, I answered his questions blank-headed, forgetting to act unpleasant because of the sudden goosebumps on my skin, sweaty palms, cold limbs and tightness in my chest. That couldn’t be because of Giuseppe’s gaze never leaving my cleavage, right? It was more than disgust. It was more like fear.

The reasons came to me in warm, liquid, dark, sticky red splashing onto my face, and Giuseppe’s hollow face before me, a metallic taste slipping between my parted lips. Giuseppe never even got to finish his sentence before his body jerked forward against me—heavy, unmoving.

A gasp managed to leave my lips as I stared down at the head of a dead man pressed against my chest. Horror filled me as I forgot how to breathe, now staring at the hole in his head..

The light orchestra playing in the room was replaced with screams and gunshots, and when I looked away all I saw was blood painting the once-clean golden floor. “Stop!” A deep baritone voice broke through the chaos in my head and why was the first thought in my head to run, the voice was calm yet threatening and commanding promising even more gore.

The gunshots had died, and I stepped back. Giuseppe’s body fell flat to the floor. My lips trembled and my hands felt like it was about to fall off. “Would you command your dogs to lower their weapons or do I have to, Ashcroft?” That voice again. I turned slightly, facing the room. My stepsisters, stepbrothers, Father and some of his guards remained unhurt, but my body couldn’t help this sight of blood an..and flesh. It was too much for me. My stomach lurched.

“Lower them.” I searched Father’s gaze and for the first time I couldn’t find that pride he always wore, but there was no fear either. My eyes moved to the dais where Father stood minutes ago, now replaced by a man in overall black. He only had to stand, but I could feel my lungs tighten like I was being choked, blood dripped from his hands and I don't need to be told before I knew who had caused this scene.

He was intimidation in an immaculately tailored black suit, a matching mask covering half his face, leaving his thin lips wearing a wicked smile and sharp jaws exposed. On his hands were leather blood dripping black gloves.

He was tall—really tall—but seemed young. As an observer I didn’t fail to notice the imbalance in his stance. When he moved a bit on the dais I noticed how one of his legs moved differently from the other—more deliberate, slightly stiff and…

“Can we get a private area, Ashcroft? A little conversation would do.” Father nodded immediately like this wasn’t the man who had killed men at his party.

Familiar storm-blue eyes met mine through the dark mask, and God help me, why do the eyes of a murderer feel so hypnotic? Every nerve told me to look elsewhere, but I couldn’t look away from those sharp yet calm pieces of crystal which measured mine.

“Lead the way, Ashcroft…” He looked away as he followed Father, none of the guards going with them.

As soon as they left, murmurs and tears filled the room and all I wanted at that moment was to run back to Mother, Goldie and my little brother, but my stepbrothers present wouldn’t allow it, telling the girls to keep shut. I leaned against a wall, waiting to be saved or to… die. I could just do myself a favor by pulling the corset tight until I suffocated to death.

After a hellish wait, Father and the devil’s incarnate stepped out. Father walked back to the dais, taking a long gulp. “The purpose of tonight is to find a husband…” I pulled my mouth tight so as not to taste the already-dried blood of Giuseppe. “No need, Ashcroft.” The murder of a man cut Father off. His hand went to the rope holding his mask as he tugged it roughly off. The mask fell to the marble floor, and when he lifted his head forward all I saw was perfection. Not even the long scar on his cheek could erase that perfection—like he was sculpted to please, but all that beauty promised nothing but danger.

He moved slowly with deliberate steps through the room and I wondered if he were searching for whose head a bullet would fit perfectly into next. I clutched my gown even harder, blaming myself for not standing where the other girls were. I realized I was the only one sticking to a wall. My brain, always picturing the bad side, had pictured correctly—his eyes came back to mine and he began walking closer. I forgot how to breathe through my nose and only let air escape through my lips. When he was just inches away from me, I shut my eyes tight, waiting to be the lamb.

His presence burned close now, a warm breath trapping me, but I didn’t dare open my eyes. “Your gaze wouldn’t leave me when I wasn't near. Now I am near, why won’t you look at me?” Silk, low, almost like a whisper pulling me to the depth of an abyss.

“Was that look of curiosity or fear, Worth Cassandra Ashcroft?” He knew my full name? I squeezed my eyes even tighter, feeling his warm breath against the crook of my neck… How? H…how did he?! “I took that letter out of a dead man’s hand. His blood had tainted that beautiful piece just like the one on your face. He was really mad after reading it until I wiped that look off his face with a peaceful death…”

A shiver jolted down my body as I felt something soft, warm and wet against my neck. My knees grew even weaker all of a sudden, my stomach doing strange flips as something like a tongue travelled down my neck, a rough hand catching the back of my throat as I gasped… I grew tense and somewhat dizzy at the same time. “I had vowed to his corpse that I would take his place, so Worth Cassandra Ashcroft, won’t you look at your future husband?”