Page 78 of Vows of Silence

Chapter 25

The Mask

Leaving Isabelle was difficult. But it was the right choice.

After what she had seen, she needed time to process.

I’d noticed that about her over the years. She always needed space. She needed time to draw her own conclusions.

I had no doubt in my mind that she would come to the same agreement I was at—that everyone responsible for causing her harm needed to die.

Her father and Adrien were on my list already. And they’d be dealt with when the time was right. First, they needed to know how badly they’d fucked up. They needed to know what they’d lost, and everything I had gained.

Isabelle wasn’t ready for that stage yet.

But she would be. In time.

Once that was done, once they’d felt the pain of their losses, only then would I deliver the killing blow.

Right now, my focus was on the dangers in this house. The man who saw her as a risk and not an investment. Who stillbelieved she was a liability, something to be taken care of and used as a weapon.

I walked away from my little bird’s bedroom, confident that she wasn’t going anywhere, and made my way to my grandfather’s room, stopping off at the kitchen as I did so.

The manor was mostly silent. The staff had performed their duties and were hiding away in their own section of the house, avoiding any contact with me.

It never bothered me. But tonight, it delighted me. The fewer people in my way, the better.

I walked up the stairs silently, my shoes barely making a sound on the cold marble.

One maid came out of Rafael’s room, noticed me, and quickly scurried back down the hall, whispering prayers under her breath that I wouldn’t notice her.

I noticed her. I noticed everything in this house—and beyond. But there was a difference between noticing and caring. I couldn’t care less about that woman. She was just another person in a sea of faces.

As I arrived at the top of the stairs, the door to my grandfather’s room opened once more, and the doctor quietly walked out, briefcase in hand.

“Fuck me,” he hissed once he saw me. “You scared the crap out of me, Silas.”

I glared at him.

“I wouldn’t bother with a visit tonight. Your grandfather isn’t himself right now. He’s refusing his medication again.”

I noticed the blood then, dried on his lip. The doctor must have sensed where my eyes were, as his hands came up to his lip, rubbing at his wound.

“He needs rest, Silas. Whatever it is you need, I’m sure it can wait until the morning,” he said with a sigh, ever the professional. Ever taking care of his patients.

I raised my arm, the metal in my hand reflecting in the light.

Immediately the doctor paled, his throat bobbing as he gulped through the sudden terror that had just wrapped around him.

I took a brief moment to enjoy that. To inhale the thick scent of fear, closing my eyes as the familiar sensation of someone else’s horror as their life flashed before their eyes washed over me.

And then I let my wrist drop, the sharp point of the blade pointing down the hallway in a silent command.

Move.

He didn’t hesitate. He scrambled forward, his shoulders bunched around his ears, his briefcase held in front of him with both hands. He cringed as he rushed past me, holding his breath, until he broke out into a sprint on the stairs.

I didn’t turn to watch him go. I simply listened to the sounds of his shoes slapping against the floor, of his terrified sobs, and the slamming of the heavy door behind him.