The Blackwell Brothers

Chapter 9:Adrien Blackwell POV

"taking your pain away,is it working?" Her voice echoed in my mind as I drove away. I knew I had hurt her, and I shouldn't have acted that way. But I was confused - her scent, her melodious voice, her tiny hands... everything reminded me of my mother. It was as if she had reopened old wounds. The resemblance was uncanny - from her brown hair to her green eyes and pale skin, everything about her was reminiscent of my mom.

To keep her safe, I knew I had to stay away. If my dad found out I was seeing someone, he would try to threaten her, use her against me, or even hurt her if she refused to comply with his demands. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

I had known I loved her from the moment I first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a short, tight white dress that fell just above her knees, her brown wavy hair perfectly combed and cascading down her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and when we collided, I felt time freeze. In that instant, I knew I loved her.

But I didn't want to put her in harm's way. I didn't want to drag her into my chaotic world. So, I decided to stay away. However, I couldn't shake her off. She kept appearing in my dreams, and we shared several classes. I realized the only way to keep her safe was to bully her, to make everyone think I didn't care about her. Surprisingly, she always seems to take pleasure in the bullying. I've seen the look on her face when I ask her to do my assignments - she always looks happy. I've even caught her kissing and whispering to my textbooks in her room. It sounds strange, but I am always watching her. I have hidden cameras everywhere, and every night, I cast an invisibility spell on myself and watch her fall asleep. She sleeps like an angel, but snores like a devil.

She deserves better than me, and I know it deep down, but I just can't bring myself to accept it. Seeing her with somebody else tears my heart apart, and I f*****g can't stand it. I knew she was going to Travis's party, and that's why I went. She said she loves him, but her eyes said otherwise. I know she doesn't feel a thing for that boy. I've seen the way she looks at me, and I know her heart yearns for me the same way my heart yearns for her. After graduation, I'll tell her the truth about everything. I'll take her far away from this pack, I'll take her to a safe place, and I'll come back to this s**t hole of a pack to get my revenge. But for now, I have to play it low in order not to endanger her.

As I packed the car outside the pack house, I couldn't help but notice the atmosphere. It felt heavy with anticipation. The maids were scurrying around, carrying plates and decorations, while others were busy adorning the house. A banner reading "Welcome Home" hung from the ceiling, filling me with a sense of unease. Who could be visiting?

As the most powerful, strongest, and wealthiest pack in the west, we received a steady stream of visitors - from alphas to rogues. However, we had never gone to such great lengths to welcome someone before. Typically, we would simply prepare special dishes. So, who was this mysterious visitor?

The air was electric with tension. Everyone seemed to be in a panic, their faces etched with worry. It was clear that they had been ordered to ensure everything was perfect.

I halted a maid's frantic pace. "Who's visiting?" I demanded.

She glanced around nervously, hesitating before responding in a hushed tone, "Master Scott." With that, she swiftly fled the scene.

Anger simmered within me, threatening to boil over. Today had already been a disastrous day, and now this? That odious old man would certainly face the full force of my wrath.

I ascended the stairs with urgency and began knocking on the door, impatiently awaiting a response.

"Who is it?" a weak, raspy voice inquired, accompanied by a cough.

I recognized the voice of my ailing father. His prolonged illness was a deliberate consequence of my actions. I had covertly enlisted the services of several doctors, bribing them to administer a slow-acting poison. This toxin would gradually ravage his lungs and heart, but that was only the beginning. It would also erode his mental faculties, rendering him a shell of his former self. And when that day arrived, no one would be able to save him.

I took pride in orchestrating his downfall, and I was determined to ensure he suffered a slow, agonizing demise – a fate he richly deserved.

"Open the door, old man!" I bellowed.

The doorknob twisted, and the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit interior. The only illumination came from a solitary candle, casting flickering shadows on the walls. My father lay frail and weak, a tube inserted into his nostrils. His once-luminous black eyes had lost their sparkle, and his brown hair was disheveled, framing his gaunt face. He appeared to be teetering on the precipice between life and death.

I felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, impressed by the efficacy of Dr. Von's poisonous concoction. The doctor would undoubtedly receive his payment, accompanied by a substantial bonus.

"What do you want?" my father rasped, his voice punctuated by a loud, racking cough. He attempted to project an air of strength, but his eyes betrayed his vulnerability.

"Awwn, I almost pity the old bastard," I sneered, my tone dripping with malice.

"Why is Scott coming here?" I growled, taking a menacing step forward. My father flinched, but he quickly regained his composure, meeting my gaze with a defiant glint in his eye.

"He's coming back to reclaim what's rightfully his," he declared, his voice laced with determination.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what could that be?" I asked, my tone dripping with skepticism.

My father's response was a series of violent, racking coughs. He tried to reach out to me, but I stepped back, and he fell hard onto the floor, his coughing fit intensifying.

I watched him with a mixture of disdain and morbid fascination. What a drama queen. While I was enjoying this spectacle, I didn't want him to die just yet. Not now.

I extended a hand, helping him up from the floor. I gently placed him on the bed, patting his back in a mock display of concern. Glancing to my right, I spotted a jug filled with water. I poured him a glass, and he gulped it down, his breathing heavy and labored.

We sat there in silence, waiting for his ragged breathing to calm.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Answer my question," I snarled, my patience wearing thin.

"I don't have much time left," he rasped, his voice laced with urgency. "I want to introduce him to the pack before it's too late."

"That makes no sense!" I thundered, my anger boiling over. How could an alpha be so obtuse? Scott's presence would only complicate my plans. As a daddy's boy, he would likely lecture me on forgiveness, but I would never absolve this monster. He had taken my mother, the only person who had truly loved and cared for me, and he would pay dearly for that.

"I don't mind killing Scott alongside you," I seethed, my venomous words hanging in the air.

"If you don't want your precious little son to die, I advise you to keep him in London," I warned, my tone dripping with malice.

A faint, mocking smile played on his lips, a smile I ached to erase with a brutal punch to his jaw.

"Scott is the next alpha, and it's only fitting that he's introduced to the pack," he said. "He'll protect me and this pack from you."

I sneered, my tone dripping with mockery. "Wow, Father, you really have it all figured out."

His expression twisted in disgust. "Don't ever call me Father," he growled. "I'm no father to a monster."

I felt a surge of indignation. Was this the same man I had just saved from death? I should have let him succumb to his coughing fit.

Even on his sickbed, he couldn't feign love for me. He would pay for his transgressions – for killing my mother, for locking me in the basement without food or water, and for treating me like a piece of filth. His punishment would be slow and agonizing.

"You're no different," I snapped. "You killed your mate. I haven't killed anyone... yet."

He yelled angrily, "Don't say things you know nothing about!"

I smirked. "Oh, I know everything. You killed your mate because she didn't love you."

I gazed at him, and his anger was palpable. But I wouldn't relent. "You killed my mother because she wanted nothing to do with someone like you."

I scrutinized him from head to toe, my contempt evident. "I can't say I blame her. Look at yourself. She left you for a servant. Your mate hated you so much that she left you for a common servant. I almost feel sorry for you. Your mate couldn't even love you."

My laughter echoed through the room, and he lunged at me, delivering a weak punch to my cheek. I pushed him hard to the floor, grasped his neck, and pinned him to the wall. He struggled to break free, but I tightened my grip, watching as the color drained from his face.

"Who's the monster now?" I taunted, reveling in his distress.

But I couldn't kill him yet. His demise needed to be slower, more painful. Just as I was about to release my grip, a familiar voice intervened.

"LET GO OF HIM, BROTHER!"