CHAPTER 9: THE PRICE NAMED
1169 Words
CASSIUS
The study room was silent, except for the sound of the ticking clock. I sat behind the desk, a glass of whisky in my hand as I tapped lightly on the desk. The documents spread out before me, laid untouched. None of it mattered tonight.
Instead, her pleadings and tear stained face lingered in my mind. “Please, don't do this.”
The pleas of a girl who should have cursed her enemies rather than trying to protect them. I should have dismissed it–weakness disgusted me. Yet the echo of her trembling voice refused to die in my head.
My jaw clinched as I tightened my grip on the glass until it nearly cracked. Damn her. Damn those tears.
The door creaked open, my gaze narrowed. Aunt Nancy slipped in, her hands clasped. “You are still awake.” She pointed out.
I didn't look up. “Do I seem like a man who falls asleep easily?” I asked, my tone low.
She gave a faint smile. “Not often.”
Her steps were slow and steady as she approached the desk. “She's resting now. Though…” She paused, studying me. “she's restless in her dreams. I heard her whimpering more than once.”
I set the glass down with a sharp clink. “That's your concern, not mine.”
She tilted her head, her gaze, confident. “Is it? You gave her a room when no one else would.”
I shot her a warning look as she swallowed, “Don't mistake shelter for sentiment. She stays because I allow it. Nothing more.”
But even to my own ears, the words sounded hollow.
Aunt Nancy, perceptive as always, didn't press. Instead, she folded her arms tighter. “You could have thrown her out tonight. Yet, you didn't. Perhaps, there's more to your decision than you wish to admit.”
I leaned back, gaze darkening. “Careful…” My tone was calm, but edged with steel.
She bowed slightly, yet her voice remained steady. “As you wish, Master. But can I say one thing?”
I exhaled slowly. “Speak.”
“She doesn't hate you.” Aunt Nancy muttered simply.
A scoff escaped my lips. “Hate? She fears me.”
“Fear and hate are not the same.” Her eyes softened. “If she hated you, she would not have begged. She would have cursed you. But instead, she pleaded for mercy–not for herself but even for those who wronged her.
Her words lodged in my chest, unwanted but valid.
I dismissed her with a flicker of my wrist. “Enough. Keep her alive, keep her quiet. That's all I ask.”
She stared at me silently as if contemplating whether to say further or just comply with my order. Soon, she bowed and left, closing the door gently behind her.
Silence returned. Heavy and unsettling.
I poured another glass, staring at the liquid as if it held answers. My phone vibrated on the desk, a waiting message from my men: Your orders?
My thumb hovered over the screen. One word would be enough. Proceed.
Instead, I locked the phone and pushed it aside. Just for tonight.
Not for her, not for her tears. Strategy, I told myself. Punishment must be precise.
But still, as the hours dragged on and dawn crept closer, I couldn't shake the image of her eyes–wide, trembling and pleading desperately– not with hate but with something I couldn't precisely name.
Morning came too soon.
I sat at the head of the dining table, coffee steaming in front of me. The silence of the house, broken only by the faint clink of cutlery as Aunt Nancy set the dishes.
Footsteps padded softly against the marble floor. She appeared, head bowed, her bandaged temple– a constant reminder of her weakness.
“Good morning.” Aunt Nancy greeted softly but Daphne could only manage a faint nod. Her gaze flicked towards me for a split second but darted away quickly as she blinked.
I sipped my coffee slowly, saying nothing.
She took her seat after hesitating for a while, her hands trembling as she reached for the bread. Her appetite seemed lost, though she forced herself to chew, perhaps fearing my reaction if she left the plate untouched.
“Eat.” I ordered quietly.
Her fork slipped against the plate. “I–I am.” She choked.
I exhaled sharply. “Not enough.” My voice was sharp, an order not a suggestion. “If you want strength to keep begging for the lives of murderers, you'll need to eat well.”
Her brows furrowed but she obeyed, lifting another bite to her lips. Aunt Nancy shot me a faint glare of disapproval, but said nothing.
Minutes passed. The air grew heavy again.
Finally, she broke the silence. Her voice low and soft. “You…you won't really do it. Will you? You won't have them arrested?..Right?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly. A faint glimpse of hope filled her eyes as if expecting me to succumb to her wish.
I set my cup down with a deliberate thud, my gaze locking on hers. Cold. Dark.
“I don't repeat myself.” I growled.
She flinched, biting her lips. Her hands clutched the edge of the table tightly, knuckles white. “Please…”
Her words trailed off as it grated on me like a broken glass. Aunt Nancy cleared her throat softly. “Master–”
“Enough.” I snapped, my patience thinned.
Daphne froze, her lips trembling. Her fork clattering with the plate.
The silence stretched.
I rose slowly, pushing the chair back. My burning gaze never left hers as I circled the table, step by step, until I stood behind her.
She stiffened as her breath hitched.
I lowered my voice, close to her ear. “One last time, girl. Begging won't change me decision. Your family will pay.”
My jaw gritted.
She swallowed hard, her shoulders shaking. “Then I'll pay instead.” She breathed.
Her words threw me off guard.
I frowned, “What?”
She turned, eyes teary but steady, meeting mine for the first time without flinching. “You said nothing here is free. If you want a price for keeping me, take it from me. Just don't touch them.”
For a moment, the room was utterly still with a deafening silence.
Aunt Nancy gasped but I barely heard her.
My fist clenched at my side. A dangerous calmness surging through me. The kind that always came when I was about to make a decision no one could take back.
She had just offered herself.
Whether she understood what that meant or what I could do with that– was another matter entirely.
My lips curved into something dark, something unreadable.
“You have no idea,” I murmured, voice low, eyes darkening. “what price you've just named.”
- Writer
