Here Lies a Saint (Here Lies #2) - C.L. Matthews Page 0,27

single second.

"Good. See you soon." He hangs up before I can respond, but even hearing the darkness and deep baritone of his voice has me in a fog.

It's been so long since I've seen Maxim, since I've spoken with Mother and my friends. Shit, are they my friends anymore? I've been gone so long it's almost as if I'd been painted with Wite-Out covering every inch of my existence.

By the time I'm landing on our private airstrip outside of Arcadia Township, I'm a ball of nervous energy. How does one reemerge without the knowledge of what has passed in the time gone?

I'm escorted to the family's sedan and shuttled home.

Home.

For the last few years, that's been Italy. It's been work, school, and whatever Father deemed fit for a black sheep.

The Edgington Manor comes into view, making my heart race with trepidation. This place is the root of all of my despair.

The place where I was a burden.

Useless.

Stripped of all things that label me as a son of Elijah Edgington.

"Master Jordan," Dane announces when he opens the door for me.

I don't smile. It's Dane who packed me up, telling me my life was basically gone.

He stares at me with neutrality. It's a disgusting, emotionless mask, one to hide him from culpability.

I don't respond to him, instead making my way to the entrance to face what waits for me. I have no clue what to prepare for. Father didn't sound irate or nervous. If anything, he sounded bored, controlled, as he usually does.

"He's in the boardroom, sir. Announce yourself before entering."

With an eye roll and annoyance, I walk toward my father's meeting area. Dane calls it the boardroom, which is physically correct, but he also left out the fact that it's also basically a dining room with office-type materials.

Two knocks are all I offer before saying, "Jordan, sir."

"In."

His callous words shouldn't surprise me. My father is as stiff as a corpse in a fucking morgue. That's not only around me. He doesn't have a heart. He lost it a long time ago, along with his soul, and he’s taking mine and Maxim's with him too.

"Seems things have changed, Jordan," he says nonchalantly. "Take a seat."

The room is probably half a football field in size. The table is capable of sitting at least thirty members of his team. The windows are drawn, bleeding in the soft sunlight of afternoon. Father sits at the farthest end, the head of the table. Not knowing whether he wants me beside him or as far as possible, I wait for him to command my place.

"Here is fine. Stop wasting my time."

Of course. His calling me home, forcing me rather, is a waste of his time.

I sit beside him, wondering what could possibly have changed so suddenly that he's willing to offer me my place back home. There's so much to adapt to. Life isn't what it once was. Not even people will be.

"Your brother has disgraced the bloodline, which means you're unfortunately my only hope to produce an heir, carry the Edgington name, and rule the kingdom."

Rule the kingdom. He pretends I'm a prince, a victor on the bouts of war, slaying enemies. In reality, every founding family in this godforsaken town is a puppet, one to be bent, sewn, and ruined by their lineage.

"What has changed?" I ask.

I know he said Maxim disgraced our bloodline, but there are so many ways in which he could do that. I need answers, something to grasp onto and know where to go and what to avoid.

He finally looks up at me with malice. It's always hatred in his eyes. Between my being the soft spot in mother's heart and my being the soft-hearted boy I've always been, it kills him to be around me.

I'm weak.

Spineless.

A disappointment.

"He's bedded another male."

Bedded. Another. Male. Fuck. Maxim, you stupid dick. My heart hammers, slicing me open with each smack of the insatiable gavel. I kept his secret, one I mostly forgot simply because it was a protecting manner. If I forgot what he confided in me, I would never mutter it aloud when angry, or in spite, or because it's something that's always intrigued me.

Men in founding families aren't allowed to be gay. It's not out of homophobia, either. Our town is very progressive. It has everything to do with the production of heirs.

Production because they're dolls. Pawns. Chess pieces for the cause.

Maximillian Edgington. The perfect heir had a secret as deadly as the plague. Gayness. He didn't want women, or babies, not