increases. “So something happened between you and Elijah?”
Bishop clears his throat. “You could say that, but Elijah Garcia is the son of one of the most notorious families known in the state of New York. His father is a don, Elijah the beta, and Ava?” Bishop shakes his head slowly. “Well, she was basically the fucking princess.”
“Okay.” My eyes close as I try to undo all the knots inside my brain that these revelations have tied. “So you killed Elijah, and Ava—”
“Not Elijah,” Brantley murmurs, and when I look up at him, all of my instincts are screaming for me to run. This time not to him, away from him. “His time hadn’t come yet.”
“Yet,” Bishop bites out. “I’m thinking it has now.”
“Boys,” Hector finally interrupts. “This is King business.” He casts a look at me. “Is there anything else you would like to know about yourself or me?”
Feeling satisfied with everything, no matter how confusing it is to digest, I nod. There is one thing I do want to know. I think anyone who has been abandoned by a parent would want to know. “Why did you get rid of me?”
The lines around his eyes deepen, his smile harsh but somehow still gentle. “I couldn’t keep you. I understand your knowledge of The Kings and our legacy and law is fairly new to you, but you would have been classified as a Swan. They would have killed you. The Vatican took you under their wing with the assumption that you, too, would bear the curse. They weren’t completely sure you would; they just assumed”
I chew on my lip while scenarios play through my head. “I don’t know enough, but I know a little bit. Madison, she was a Swan?”
Hector nods. “Yes.”
“And The Lost Boys, they’re who killed them?”
Hector leans to the side of his chair. “Yes, along with your biological mother, who helped.”
This wasn’t news, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. I’d heard enough snide remarks from Tillie to know our mom was obviously not winning any humanity awards.
“But, why did you pull me out of The Vatican and bring me to Brantley’s?”
A range of emotions crumble over his face. His eyes harden, the wrinkles around his mouth seem to tense.
Brantley finally moves back to the chair beside me, and just as Hector’s mouth is about to open, there’s a knock on the door.
Hector keeps his eyes on me. “Come in.”
The door cracks open and Scarlet stands at the threshold. Scarlet, as well as being the first lady, was also a famous movie star. She’s featured in some of my favorite movies.
Her wide smile is directed right at me, as if no one else in the room exists. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s okay,” I say, standing. “I’m tired anyway.”
Bishop takes my hand. “Come, you can crash upstairs.” I let him direct me past Scarlet. It’s not until we’re outside of the office that I notice Brantley didn’t follow. Bishop pauses at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey.” My hand rests on his shoulder. “It’s cool. I can get the driver to take me home.”
“It’s not that.” He blows out a breath, his shoulders tense. “Come.” Then I’m following him out the glass sliding doors that open out onto a patio area and a large rectangular pool.
“Wow, party house, huh?”
“You have no idea,” he grunts, leading me around the sun loungers, past the DJ booth, and through the small garden. My attention wanes when I pass the overgrown rose bush.
“I could totally fix that.”
Bishop laughs. “You’re not doing our gardening.”
“I’m just saying, I could!”
We stop outside a house identical to the main one, only smaller. It’s adjacent to the pool, yet overlooks it at the same time. Completely constructed from glass with dark trimmings.
Bishop stops outside the door. “So many fucking memories in here. I almost don’t want to open the door.”
“Bishop, I can sleep at home.”
He spins around. “You don’t get it.” He steps forward, touching my cheek. I lean into his grasp. “This should have been your home all along, but because of who you are, you were deprived of that, just like Madison was. I can’t allow it to happen again. How Hector runs shit, is not how I will be.”
I touch his hand with mine. “What do you mean?”
He sighs, releasing his grip on my cheek and leaning against the front door. “Hector has always only taken care of The Kings. The men. The legacies. He has always seen women as disposable.