Goldsin (The Chrysophilist Trilogy Book 1)
Goldsin: Chapter 9

“Lucian Harrow,” I say under my breath. His name tastes like poison on my tongue. “What did you do to her?”

The words inked on the worn pages spiral in the backs of my eyes while my fingers tremble, holding onto the truth as it unfolds. The maroon folder Damien handed to me discreetly earlier now lies abandoned on the mahogany shelves nearby.

These are the missing pages from my mother’s diary, and the secrets hidden within them threaten to shatter everything I thought I knew about her death.

Full of dread, I read the words scrawled across the page. Words that suggest Lucian Harrow was involved in her suicide.

An uninvited memory washes over me.

Lucian’s blue eyes are vacant as he looks down at me from his towering height. A height so high for a little girl of only eight years old. A smirk tugs at his lips as he toys with one of his smelly cigars.

The sun shines over us, yet no light can reach us. No—only darkness is present. That heavy, slimy kind of darkness that suffocates the naïve mind of a child; shatters their perception of life.

“Remember your place, golden one,” he says. “You’re nothing more than an orphan who got lucky.”

His friends laugh, a raucous sound, as I flinch.

Why can they laugh? Why is it that when I do he gets mad?

This day is the day I’ll slowly learn who I’m meant to be . . . before learning who I really am.

The memory fades, and my stomach twists into a knot at the thought that my mother might not have taken her own life but was killed by one of the most powerful men in Seattle.

My thoughts race, trying to piece together the puzzle of my mother’s tragic past, when I notice something.

Damien is gone.

I didn’t even hear him leave the room.

Panic claws its way up my throat, making it difficult to breathe.

Standing here alone, with the weight of my mother’s darkest secrets in my hands, leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“Damien?” I call out hesitantly.

No response comes, and the silence seems to mock my growing alarm.

The walls of the library close in around me. Shadows dance ominously across the rows of books, cast by the flickering fireplace.

I can’t shake the feeling someone is watching me, lurking just beyond my line of sight.

Because I’m not alone. The ghosts of the sins inflicted on my mother are within reach.

Shaking the thought, I force myself to focus on my mother’s words. I finally have the missing pages of her diary—of her life.

The pages continue to paint a horrifying picture of Lucian Harrow’s depravity, and the more I read, the more certain I am that he played a bigger role in my mother’s death.

I try to ignore the cold dread pooling in the pit of my stomach as I absorb each harrowing detail, but the emptiness of the library gnaws at me. The silence becomes deafening as I strain to hear any sign of Damien’s return.

My discomfort is palpable, and it clings to me like a second skin, making it impossible to shake the sense of impending danger.

I lift my gaze as the dullest sound reaches my ears, whispered from the void. I stare at my empty surroundings, hoping against hope it’s Damien miraculously reappearing. But the library remains engulfed in silence, offering no comfort or reassurance.

So I continue to read. I can feel my mother’s pain, her shame and her fear, bleeding through the words.

“Master,” she wrote, describing her complete submission to him. But as the entries go on, her feelings for Lucian begin to evolve. “I thought he loved me. That I was his little gift. That’s what he called me when I pleasured him right,” she confesses in one passage. “But now I see the monster he truly is.”

The change in her perception of him is chilling, and it only serves to fuel my growing hatred for the man who took my mother away from me.

I want answers, justice, and most of all, I want Lucian Harrow to pay for what he did.

But these are just some of the pages in the envelope.

Maybe he didn’t kill my mother. Either way, from what I’ve read, he deserves to suffer at my hands, just as much as she suffered at his.

“Found you,” a voice growls behind me, warming my nape and startling me out of my thoughts.

As I turn toward the voice, the pages slip from my grip, fluttering to the floor like fragile leaves caught on a gust of wind.

“Julian.” The word whooshes out of my mouth, and my heart gets stuck in my throat as I scramble to pick up the letters.

I feel exposed under his piercing gaze—the same color as Lucian’s.

“Do you know the difference between me and you?” he whispers, stalking around me, his towering height forcing me to tilt my head up to maintain eye contact. “I’d chain you to keep you.”

I glance down at the red marks around his wrists.

“And once I do, I intend to exploit your body like an altar. Day and night.”

His last words slither down my body, goose bumps erupting in their wake.

I glare at him, my anger momentarily overpowering the ghastly effect of my mother’s words. “So what? You’ll pray for me?” I ask, clutching the letters tightly to my chest as if they’re a shield against his promises. But then I think better of it and swiftly hide them behind me, in the hem of my underwear.

“I’ll worship you. On my fucking knees.”

I hear the shuffle of feet and spot Emeric Grimward, Julian’s best friend and the son of one of the Inferno Consortium families. The purple mask he was wearing before is now clutched in his grip. He’s standing a few steps behind Julian, arms crossed over his chest.

Julian doesn’t need to follow my line of sight to know who I’m looking at.

“I brought reinforcements in case you decide not to cooperate.”

His lips stretch at the way my eyes round.

Before I can react, his long fingers wrap around my arm like iron bands, yanking me toward him with a force that makes me gasp.

“But before we can have our fun, you need to be punished,” he growls.

In one swift motion he hoists me over his shoulder. I kick my legs uselessly in the air as I struggle to break free.

“Put me down, you arrogant creep!” I pound my fists against his broad back in a futile attempt to make him loosen his grip.

Even Emeric seems surprised by Julian’s sudden hostility. To my annoyance, he doesn’t make any move to intervene.

“Keep it up,” Julian drawls. “I always did enjoy a challenge.”

His words only serve to fuel my anger, and I redouble my efforts to escape.

I twist and squirm in his grip like a wild animal caught in a trap. But Julian is relentless, his hold on me unwavering as he carries me through the corridors of Victoria’s cabin. The murmur of distant voices and moans provides a haunting soundtrack to my humiliation.

“Let go of me!” My voice cracks with desperation, my nails clawing at Julian’s unyielding grip. “You have no right to treat me like this!”

“Tell me what you’re hiding, and maybe I’ll consider it,” he shoots back. “Until then, you’re going to listen to me whether you like it or not.”

A rising tide of panic gnaws away at me.

It could be the rush of blood going to my head, or maybe my mother’s words haven’t really left my mind yet, but I swear his voice morphs into a deep, aged tone.

The voice of a monster.

I feel a dull ache in my chest, blood pounding in my ears.

“Master says I’m a good girl when I listen to him.”

“Master says I’m his little gift, and that gifts must be shared around. He likes sharing me a lot.”

“Master likes it more when I scream. So I scream. And I scream.”

“Master punished me today because I didn’t feel too well. He says punishments are necessary for stray girls like me.”

I draw in a sharp breath. A mask of blank terror blinds my vision.

I can feel the stares of onlookers as we pass through the crowded rooms. Their whispers only add to my growing sense of helplessness.

“Please,” I whisper. My voice is barely audible even to myself as tears threaten to spill over. “Please, just let me go.”

“Give me a reason.” His tone is cold. Unforgiving. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drag you back home and tell Lucian you’re responsible for DeMarco’s death.”

Dread crawls up my spine as my gut churns at the implication.

“Because I didn’t kill him, Julian.” The words taste like bile in my mouth. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Then prove it,” he demands. “Tell me what you’re doing here tonight. Why you had someone else’s blood on you.”

But as much as I long for him to let me go, for the chance to breathe without feeling the crushing weight of Julian Harrow, I know I can’t give him what he wants.

Because I killed DeMarco.

And now more than ever, I want to kill his father.

“Julian, please,” I beg. “Please don’t do this.”

“Sorry, love, but you’ve left me no choice.”

And with those chilling words, I know there is no more escaping the Harrows.

This has become a game of chance. I’ll either die at his hands or his father’s.

The chilly night air greets me like a slap in the face as Julian dumps me abruptly onto the damp forest floor. My tears and my sorrow reach a boiling point, and I push myself up. My hands slip slightly on the wet leaves covering the ground as I glare up at him with all the anger I can muster.

“Are you done throwing me around like a rag doll?”

The forest is eerily silent. The shadows swallow us whole as we stand among the trees.

“Start talking.” Icy blue eyes fix on me with an intensity that makes it feel like he’s peering straight into my soul. “Why did you kill DeMarco?”

“Julian, I told you, I’m not⁠—”

He cuts me off with a snarl. “Let’s try this one last time.” His voice echoes through the darkness. Jaw clenching, his hand snakes behind my back, untangling the knot of the makeshift bra and leaving me naked as he ties my hands with it instead, knotting the blindfold behind my back.

The material bites at my skin. I fight the urge to plead for the other version of Julian—the one whose mouth was tasting every dip of my body just half an hour ago.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on? You think I can’t see how you’ve wormed your way into this part of our lives?” His hand gathers my ponytail and he pulls, tilting my neck at an uncomfortable angle.

My neck’s bare, inviting his teeth to mark the unmarred skin.

“Julian, please, just let me explain,” I try again, but the cold, hard look in his eyes tells me any attempt at reasoning with him will be futile.

He’s too far gone, consumed by the darkness that has always lurked beneath the surface of his carefully crafted façade.

“Explain?” he scoffs, pulling my face closer to his. “How do you explain getting a party invitation from the daughter of the Inferno Consortium? How do you explain DeMarco dying of poison, his body found with dried blood coughed out all over his thousand-dollar suit—and a drop on this very spot?” His finger travels up from my waist to my breast, flicking past my nipple. He pinches the skin above it, leaving a red mark resembling the bead of blood. “What the hell were you hoping to achieve by killing him?”

“Nothing!” I cry out, feeling the weight of his gaze bearing down on me like a physical force. “Because I did not fucking kill him!”

“Don’t test me, Aurelia.”

I refuse to let him break me. I’ve come too far, sacrificed too much, to give up now.

I meet his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. “We can go on all night,” I spit.

A sudden flash of black catches my attention—something familiar on his wrist—and I remember the hair tie I saw on him earlier tonight. Something inside me snaps, and I lose myself amidst all the pain and anger I’ve been struggling to contain.

He doesn’t expect it. Yet his reflexes are fast. His hand falls from my hair and stops my knee from meeting his groin.

“Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?” My voice trembles with rage. “Wearing that tonight, of all nights?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The hair tie!” I push my knee up again, aiming for his dick in the hope of getting a hit.

But he stops me just in time. Then he flips me around, my back against his chest as he holds me still, his hand wrapped around my hair to pull my head back so he can look down at me.

“Why are you wearing it now?” I screech. “You bastard! What were you trying to obtain? Did you hope things would go back the way they were if I saw you with it?”

“Believe it or not, Aurelia, not everything is about you,” he retorts.

But there’s a hint of something in his voice that makes me pause.

“I never took it off.”

“Never?” The word comes out as a whisper.

My eyes glaze over as I think back to one of those tedious social events we were forced to attend when I was seven and he was ten.

We find comfort in each other’s silent company—well, I find comfort in Julian’s. I’m far from silent. All I do is chatter about Valentine disagreeing with me buying another doll. I’ve tried telling him how the dolls I already have need friends—a big group of friends, so they never feel lonely—but he just shakes his head and changes the subject. Julian, on the other hand, agrees with his lack of words—or so I’m choosing to believe.

I don’t have many friends. The guards who work for the Harrows prefer to keep their families as far from this world as possible, and the Harrow brothers are never around when I sneak up to their apartment. So to be finally sitting next to someone close to my age feels like a dream come true.

Between all my complaining, Julian turns to me and says, “I’ll buy you all the dolls in Magic Mouse Toys.”

My big eyes widen, giggles erupting at the exciting news. Magic Mouse Toys is the biggest toy store I’ve ever been in!

“Really? You promise?”

“I don’t need to.” He scoffs, seemingly offended.

“Okay then.” I nod, noticing how similar he is to Mr. Grumble from my book. Then I let out a gasp, the realization hitting me. “But we aren’t even friends! We need to be friends to give each other gifts.”

His brow arches as he watches me bite my lower lip in concentration. Then I slip my favorite black hair tie, embellished with a raven, off my wrist and onto Julian’s.

Valentine gave me the hair tie as a memento of my mother. He believes ravens share her personality.

“Here.” I clap my hands clean, satisfied with my ability to problem-solve quickly. “Now we’re forever friends.”

“Julian, I⁠—”

My words are cut off by the sound of snapping twigs and heavy breathing. Adrian appears in front of us, his face a mask of urgency.

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. We need to leave now. Father needs us,” he says between breaths.

“Can’t it wait?” Julian snaps, his gaze still locked on mine, so he doesn’t notice the way Adrian’s face contorts when he looks at him.

If possible, Adrian’s dark eyes darken even more, eyebrows meeting in the middle and jaw clenched tightly. His nostrils flare as he catches long breaths from running to us.

“No. It’s urgent,” he insists. “Both of you need to come with me. And fucking cover her up, will you?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” Julian says.

I shiver as my dignity takes the hit once again.

Julian tears his eyes away from mine, taking a step back to create more distance between us. Much as I want to feel relief at the interruption, I don’t know if I’ll be able to face Lucian Harrow tonight.

What could he possibly want from me?

Julian unties me in less than a second and slaps the blindfold onto my chest. I catch it before it falls and cover my nakedness. He’s looking everywhere else but at me, his eyes filled with uncertainty. But I can’t understand what for.

“Let’s go,” Adrian calls out, gesturing for us to follow him as he turns to leave.

Julian hesitates for a moment. Something flickers behind his eyes before he turns to follow his brother.

I stare after them, mind reeling from everything that just happened. The realization that Julian never took off the hair tie weighs heavily on me, adding another layer to the already complicated emotions swirling inside of me.

“Move that perky ass, Aurelia, or do you want me to put you over my shoulder again?” Julian calls back.

“What a gentleman,” I mutter, forcing my legs to move.

I follow the Harrow brothers through the dark forest as they exchange heated, hushed words with one another. I could try harder to listen to their conversation, but my thoughts are too consumed by other matters.

Julian is so close to putting all the pieces together. What if his father is five steps ahead of him? What if he knows about me?

We arrive at the place where Adrian parked his car. Julian came with Emeric tonight, so he’s driving back with us.

Adrian gets behind the wheel, leaving us alone for a fraction of a second. Before Julian can get in, I let the one question pestering my thoughts out.

“Julian,” I whisper, taking a hesitant step toward him. “What’s going to happen now?”

The words I don’t say stay locked inside of me: What’s going to happen now with Lucian? With us?

Without even turning to me, he replies. “Whatever needs to happen for me to protect my family.”

And then he shuts the door.

The weight of his words settles around me like a shroud. Suffocating and inescapable.

He may be wearing my hair tie, but his heart and his loyalty are elsewhere.

I’m sitting in the back seat, the air thick with tension, as our silence gets interrupted only by the crunch of the gravel road.

It feels like the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for all hell to break loose.

The missing pages burn a hole in my skin.

I won’t be so lucky next time. I need to be more careful. With my hands tied, Julian could have grabbed them from the hem of my underwear effortlessly.

Why didn’t he?

“Would you two care to explain why we’re being summoned by your father as if we’re his personal pawns?” I snap, my frustration getting the better of me.

“If you didn’t want to be treated like a pawn, you shouldn’t have gotten involved with our family,” Julian growls, not bothering to look at me.

“Involved?” I scoff. “You mean like when your brother seduced me and dated me to then fuck other girls at parties like this one? Or do you mean when you showed up and started treating me like your personal plaything?”

“Enough,” Adrian interjects. “We can argue about this later. Right now we need to focus on getting to Father before he loses his temper.”

“Whatever,” I mutter, seething with anger.

As we continue through the forest, the moonlight creates eerie shadows of the trees, casting an unsettling atmosphere over the road.

An hour or so later I see the ominous outline of the Harrow penthouse looming in the distance. Its dark windows stare back at me like the empty eyes of a predator.

I shudder involuntarily. I feel like I’m walking straight into the lion’s den.

Adrian turns us down the underground passage into the parking lot, the black metal gate opening automatically when it catches the sensor in Adrian’s car.

And we’re in. No escaping now.

We get out and head to the elevator. A lick of fear goes up my spine in anticipation of what could be waiting for me.

We arrive at their floor in record time. I’m one step away from the imposing door when Julian grabs my arm.

“Stay close,” he warns.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I fall into step behind him.

Adrian leads us down the candlelit hallway. The art pieces framing the walls look like living nightmares in the scarce lighting, nothing like the happy picture frames in our home. I feel increasingly out of place in this cold, posh tomb.

“We’ll find out soon.” Julian’s hand brushes against mine for a brief moment, sending a bolt of electricity up my arm. I glance up at him, feeling the striking difference between the Julian of now and the one of just an hour ago, in the forest.

We reach a set of double doors guarded by two burly men.

“We’re expected,” Julian says.

The guards exchange a glance before stepping aside, allowing us to enter Lucian Harrow’s inner sanctum.

As the doors swing open I brace myself for whatever lies ahead, knowing my life is hanging in the balance.

“Ah, there you are.” Lucian’s voice drips with disdain as he looks up at his sons from behind his massive oak desk. “I was beginning to think you’d lost your way.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Julian replies icily, his gaze frozen on his father, assessing every small movement. Mine moves toward Valentine’s stoic stare—frozen with undetected worry. I can see it in the crinkling lines around his eyes and the stiffness in his shoulders.

He’s warning me.

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Adrian interjects, giving Julian a sizzling stare—one that seems to resonate with Julian as they share unspoken words with one another. Then he continues. “Father, tell us, why did you call us here?” His tone shifts the moment he addresses Lucian.

“Because it’s time we had a little chat.” Lucian leans back in his chair, his hands clasped together in front of him.

His eyes flick to me.

“All of us.”