Goldsin (The Chrysophilist Trilogy Book 1)
Goldsin: Chapter 17

“Please . . . P-please, I b-beg you . . .” The gasped words stammer out of his mouth, blood dripping down his chin.

I circle the bruised man tied to the chair in the middle of boxing ring at the Den. The stains on the floor suit the place, giving it that extra touch of violence. I should consider telling the cleaning company to leave them there.

I created the Den to escape the violent life Lucian raised me into. Ironic, really. Yet the type of violence that happens here is an art form, a way to release built-up tension. A way for me to retaliate since I can’t at home.

Yet right now, as I punch the asshole to death, I can feel the way Lucian was able to taint my sacred place without even having to take a step inside. Should I stop, or should I keep going—use his face the way I can’t Lucian’s?

The latter should be exciting.

Swollen eyes plead at me. “It wasn’t m-me. I s-swear!”

I choke down a laugh. How stupid does he think I am? I saw the surveillance footage of him breaking into Lucian’s office at Harrow Enterprise. I fucking saw that disgusting face twist with pleasure as he forced himself onto Marison, Lucian’s secretary, before hacking Lucian’s computer with a flash drive and stealing important information.

He couldn’t resist, could he?

Lucian sent me here to teach him a lesson: Don’t steal from the rich. But in truth? I’m only doing this for Marison.

Like they say, greed gets you killed.

“Let’s see if that small head of yours understood . . .” I inch closer to his face from behind his chair. With my hand resting heavily on his shoulder, I wait expectantly for him to repeat the words I instructed him to say earlier.

“I-I’m a—I didn’t do it!” He cuts himself off, voice booming through the empty place.

Grunting, I straighten up, my jaw clenching while my lips twitch with excitement at what awaits him. “Very well,” I drawl before throwing a punch to the side of his temple. The crack of bone vibrates down my spine, awakening something inside of me. “How about now? Are you over your bullshit yet?”

Blood splatters out, raining down on the floor, and I feel like a painter creating his next masterpiece.

The idiot’s head snaps back, eyes rolling upward in pain as I stare down at him.

He worked as an intern in the North America sales division. I know the pay wasn’t the highest, but it sure was more than he would have gotten working anywhere else. Someone must have put him up to this. There’s no way a guy like him would have come up with the plan alone. Then again, he did rape Marison.

He isn’t as innocent as he makes himself out to be.

I’m staring at him, head inclined to the side, when the earpiece I’m wearing crackles to life.

Her voice appears next.

“Lost for words? Let me help you with that,” I hear her say. My dick stirs, jaw clenching with all the venom she spits at Marcus.

Fuck.

And when I hear the unmistakable sound of gunfire I grunt with pain. A different kind of pain from the one Marcus is undoubtedly experiencing right now.

I planted a bug in the dress I gifted Aurelia tonight. Not because I don’t trust her, but because I couldn’t deal with the thought of missing out on witnessing this kind of rage coming from her. There is nothing hotter than a woman who doesn’t mind getting dirty to achieve what she wants.

There is nothing sexier than feminine rage.

When she told me about her mother I felt a weight fall on me. It was all too familiar. The treatment she went through is nothing uncommon in the Inferno Consortium—something even my own mother can’t run away from.

But Aurelia’s mom wasn’t treated like a human being for even a moment. It was only in those last seconds of her life that she was finally a person. That she finally lived to die.

“Are the things you did to my mom flashing back to you, huh?” Aurelia shouts.

Blood rushes through my body, and I see black.

My hands ball into fists, and I hear the sickening crunch echoing around me as I rain punch after punch down on his face. My rhythm is in sync with her anger—with her hard breathing as she relives what her mother must have felt. Everything, until Aurelia becomes her, letting all her injustice out through the wounds she inflicts on the guilty.

“Julian, please have mercy!” he whimpers through each punch.

But I only hear her instead. “All those disgusting, degrading things you made her do—did to her!”

An image of my mother flashes behind my eyes, her bruised body and defeated soul as she came to my room to read me bedtime stories even after what Lucian did to her. Even while she bled she put on a smile for my eyes only.

Her soft voice as she read each happily ever after. How her eyes shone even behind the makeup concealing the truth.

I hear Aurelia seething at Marcus, and I know she’s close to killing him. “Keep going, golden one,” I say under my breath even if she can’t hear me.

My fist connects with his face. Over and over again.

“No-no. Please . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he softly pleads, so faint I hardly hear it. Panic rushes over his features.

Then a gunshot rings out, and I grin like a madman as I hold the gun to his forehead, my shot matching the one coming from the earpiece.

Like two halves of one soul, both of us are silent as our panting encircles us, each with a dead body in front of us.

I step away from the dead man. His eyes are still open, staring blankly at where I was standing. I drop the gun to the floor and wipe my hands clean on his shirt. Then I send a quick text to Valentine to come clean up this mess.

Heading outside, I put my helmet on and turn my bike back to life. I need to go home and tell Lucian that everything has been taken care of. Then I need to find Aurelia.

There’s one perk of buying her the dress . . .

Since I bought it, I get to rip it off.

The corridor is pitch-black except for the artificial fireflies of the city lights at night glowing outside the windows.

I’m heading toward Lucian’s office, leaving behind a trail of bloodied footprints on the marble floor. The squish of my leather boots is the only sound as I turn the corner.

I need to be quick. The noises that came from her lips through the earpiece are now forever stuck in the crevices of my brain. I can’t unhear them. And the more I wait, the more my dick strains against my jeans.

Much as I like a little pain mixed with pleasure, this is a new level of torture.

I’m done being a patient guy. I have been for ten years. If you don’t count that night. And I don’t count that night.

I stretch my neck, combing a hand through my hair as I push away the memory . . .

The taste of her lips . . . The feel of her curves . . . The smell of her hair . . . The look on her face when she came.

Well, fuck. I didn’t even make it a second without falling into the trap.

A warm golden light filters out from under the imposing doors of Lucian’s office, but my mind is elsewhere. My lips stretch upward as that defiant little look Aurelia gets crosses my mind.

Ironic, isn’t it? The woman who breathes life into me is the same one stealing it away from others.

My hand is a millimeter away from the doorknob, eager to get this over with as quickly as possible, when a deafening shriek reaches my ears.

A scream I recognize all too well.

Bursting through the double doors, I search frantically for her as everything inside of me slowly decays. Whatever warmth was spreading through my chest is now replaced with a cold wash of dread.

“Mom!” I hear myself exclaim. She’s standing across the room, with her hair twisted around the fist of a man as his other hand roams every single inch of her.

A frown twists my features, legs trembling with pure rage. “What the fuck are you doing?” I roar, and the asshole leers, his meaty hand groping my mom’s breast.

I flinch to the side and crush Lucian with my gaze. He’s standing behind his desk, gratification playing in the sinister smile he sports.

“Ah, Julian, I was wondering when you were going to show up.” He rounds the desk, taking a step toward me. “I’m just doing what every dutiful husband does: exploiting what belongs to me.” He answers my question mockingly, hands outstretched as if to prove his innocence. As if what he’s doing is acceptable and I’m the insane one for questioning it.

That only fuels my anger.

“You sick bastard!” My voice is thick. I clench my fists and aim for his smug face. My elbow’s rising when my mom’s plea halts me.

“Please, Julian . . . don’t.” Her voice wobbles. Tracks of tears run down her cheeks, and my face contorts as I watch her.

Why are you letting him treat you this way? I ask her through the sadness flitting across my face. Why aren’t you fighting back?

“See how weak you are, boy?” Lucian’s raucous laughter prickles my skin. “Just like your mother.”

I keep my stare trained on my mom. Her eyes beg me not to fall for his jeers as a wave of helplessness begins to swallow me whole.

Inhaling a deep breath, I tune myself as far out as I can get. But something must be leaking inside of me tonight, because when Lucian says, “Go ahead—have your fun with her,” I lose it.

One fragment after another. An agonizing pain.

Buttons from my mom’s blouse fly everywhere as the man rips it open. Her whimper rings in my ears.

I clench my jaw. I try—I try—to do nothing like she wants me to.

I lower my gaze, but it’s pointless. Lucian grips my chin and forces it up. Forces me to witness my mom being degraded.

No. Lucian isn’t the one forcing me to do anything. It’s her. She forced me to when she begged me not to get involved, to do nothing.

“Look at her, Julian.” Lucian’s putrid breath slithers down my nape. “This is the price of your weakness.”

I feel my bones break, an ache pushing its way through my heart.

I want to push the man away from her. But I know if I do, she’ll be the one to suffer for it. Much as it kills me, if I do anything, she’ll be the one to die.

“Oh, grow some balls!” His hand falls to my groin, and he squeezes, his fingers tightening their grip on my chin.

Bile rises in my throat—not so much from his touch, but for how worthless it makes me feel to watch my mom being violated. To be nothing but a spectator to his vulgar display of power.

If only the bastard would find his pleasure someplace else. I’d give my body for hers to go untouched.

His laughter fills the room, accompanied by my mother’s grunts as she tries to wrench herself free, finally deciding to fight back. But he’s too strong for her. She’s using all her strength to get his hold off her hair while he unbuttons her pants with ease.

The action surges something within me, and I twist around, slamming my fist into Lucian’s face with all my force. The sound of his bones breaking temporarily soothes the wounds he carved into me.

I think all this is over.

How can I be panting? Why do I feel like I’ve exhausted all my energy with just one punch?

“Julian!” Mom screams at the top of her lungs, the word choking out of her.

Blood is trickling down Lucian’s nose when he looks back at me, the smug smile still frozen on his lips.

“That will cost her a lot, son.” He nods his chin to the guy, silently ordering him.

I fucked up.

A pit forms in my stomach as the man delivers a brutal punch to my mother’s beautiful face. The action mirrors the punch I left on the right side of Lucian’s face.

My vision blurs.

She falls to the ground, sobs wrenching from her dry lips, and I feel my body fall alongside her, heavy with the guilt I feel as it pulls on me.

I try to go to her—to comfort her, to hold her—but I can’t bring myself to move. I try to speak, but nothing comes out.

All I can do is stare as my whole body shakes. And shakes. And shakes.

I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

The words remain trapped, unheard by her—by anyone but me.

Then hands grab my shoulders, and I’m pulled back to my feet. Salt coats my lips.

“Why the fuck are you so soft for her?” Lucian questions. His brow furrows as he studies me. “Is it because you want to fuck her?”

His question shrouds my vision as a hollowness rips apart my insides.

He can’t be serious. This can’t be happening.

He shakes me hard. “Answer me!”

I blink the mist away from my vision and glance at him. “Fuck. You.” I spit each word at his face.

Something seems to flash behind his cold stare before he chuckles like I’ve just told the funniest joke. He pats my shoulder and says, “You think she’s worth anything? Look at her. She’s just a vessel for my seed. A plaything for men like us.”

“I am nothing like you.”

He hums, scratching his chin in thought. “You’re right. I’m not a pathetic excuse for a man.”

His comment falls flat as I hear my mom grunt in protest at her pants being pulled down her legs. The man’s grip is unwavering as he gets closer to having his way with her.

I look back at Lucian. “Let her go,” I demand. “She’s not part of this. It’s between you and me.”

His blue eyes frost my insides as we stare at one another, two sides of the same coin.

He whistles to the man, whose face is deep on my mother’s throat, and signals for him to leave. The grown-ass man whines and pushes her away before leaving the three of us alone in the room.

“Everything is always between you and me.” He sits back in his chair. “Next time I come to hear you’re spending your time on the golden one instead of doing what I asked of you, I’ll have you watch as your mother takes it from the whole Inferno Consortium.”

I fist my hands, itching to unleash my wrath upon him, but my mom collapses to the floor now that no one is holding her up, and my full attention falls to her. Her chest rises and falls in hastening movements.

“Clean yourself up,” Lucian commands as he looks down his nose at her. “And you.” He points a finger at me. “Start acting like the son of the most powerful man in Seattle. Heir, after your brother, to a criminal empire.”

I kneel beside her and dry her tears with my finger. Then I cradle her shaking body in my arms and whisper reassuring words in her ear out of Lucian’s earshot.

I share some strength with her as she looks at me, color gradually reappearing in her skin. Without hesitation, I pull her up with me and out of the room.

You know what happens to the kids you imprison? They grow up to build cages.

How can I want to live when my mom taught me the only way out is death?

Sometimes I wonder if the golden one will save me or if she’s already too late.