Page 48 of Shattered Sinner
Good to know.
I looked up and saw that we were walking up to a building. Was it…
Holy fuck. It was Chevalier Manor. So that meant we weren’t too far away from campus.
We entered the building from the back, and I was taken into the basement. Candles had been placed around the entire room, casting a warm orange glow around the area. On the floor was a gold design that had three swords that crossed with a crown on top, and a pair of wings surrounded the swords. This must have been the Chevaliers symbol.
Nash gestured for me to come forward, and as I did, I heard a chant coming from the men around me, but I couldn’t understand the words they were saying.
“Kneel,” Nash commanded.
I lowered myself down to the ground, and then Nash joined in on the chant. There was no turning back now.
Someone walked up to Nash, and he turned to his left. He grabbed what the person was holding and held it out to me. “Drink this.”
I looked at the substance in the cup. I wasn’t thrilled to be drinking this but took the vessel from Nash and drank the entire thing. I shoved the cup back at Nash and dropped to all fours.
“Fuck!” I screamed out as a sharp pain ran through my skull. Heat raced through my veins, and I couldn’t figure out what was going on with my body. I bit down hard on the corner of my mouth, causing it to bleed. I struggled not to scream again.
The volume of the chanting rose and the shadows in the room seemed to be coming toward me.
What the hell was going on?
The pain was excruciating, and I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. After a couple of minutes, it ended as abruptly as it came. Everything became silent, and I laid on the floor, gulping in as much air as I possibly could.
“You’ve made it,” Nash’s voice broke through the silence. He didn’t sound anywhere near as panicked as I felt. “The initiation is complete. You’re now a Chevalier.”
Applause erupted once more as Nash leaned forward and held out his hand. I stared at it for a moment before I grabbed it and stood up on shaky legs. Once again, they clapped me on the back and shook my hand, welcoming me into their family.
I was now one of them.
26
BIANCA
Igazed out the window of my apartment with my glass of wine in hand. The lights outside my window were bright and beautiful, unlike the dark thoughts in my mind. I’d managed to drive back to my building without any issues, but now I was home alone and didn’t know what to do with myself besides think.
The “engagement party” was in two days, and I had a decision to make. A decision that would change my life forever no matter what I chose. I needed to figure out whether I was giving the information I had on my father to Tristan.
I ran both of my hands across my face as I weighed my options. The urge to write down the pros and cons of each option were there, but deep down I knew there was no need. I knew what I should do, what I had to do, even though, on some level, I felt guilty about it. I could try to run away on my own, but I had limited access to funds that wouldn’t raise suspicion from my parents. If I took a large sum of money out and put it in my new bank account, it would set off alarms.
"Maybe I should just marry Easton," I muttered, sinking onto the couch he’d fucked me on just a few days ago. Hell, he’d proposed to me on this couch. What a mess this all was.
How could my father do this to us?
Even if I didn’t go to Tristan with this information, I knew it was probably only a matter of time before all of this came out. So why did I feel guilty about being the one to leak this story then?
Because my life and my family was going to change dramatically.
Then again, it would change drastically being married to Tristan Whitmore as well.
I shook my head as I thought about all the times my father had made being a family man and the importance of family values a focal point of his campaign.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d spoken those words and talked about our family but had the taste of another woman on his lips.
The most fulfilling thing would be to throw all this back in his face and watch every emotion he went through as his deep, dark secret was exposed, but I couldn’t. Instead, I was sipping on a glass of wine. Although, it hadn’t devolved into me drinking so much that I couldn’t see straight, so I assumed that was a step in the right direction.
I needed to think more about going to see a therapist for all of this.
