Chapter 10 - Flesh and Blood
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My father ignored the thirty terrified guests. He ignored Chloe crying in the corner. He even ignored Brandon.
He walked directly toward the grand staircase where I was kneeling, chained to the banister.
He looked down at my hacked hair, my bruised wrists, and my torn dress. A dark, dangerous shadow crossed his eyes, but his hands were incredibly gentle as he knelt beside me.
One of his men stepped forward with a pair of heavy bolt cutters, snapping the iron chains binding my wrists in two seconds.
I rubbed my bleeding wrists, gasping for breath as the heavy metal fell away.
"Are you hurt, my daughter?" my father asked, his voice a low, soothing rumble amidst the chaos.
I looked into his eyes, swallowing the tears I had refused to shed in front of my enemies.
"I’m alive, Dad," I whispered.
He pulled me into a tight embrace, kissing my forehead. Then, he stood up, handing his cane to one of his guards. He turned his attention to the center of the room.
May you like
He looked at Brandon with a calm, emotionless expression that was infinitely more terrifying than rage.
"Good," my father said softly. "Then we can begin."
