Requiem of the Soul (The Society Trilogy #1) - Natasha Knight Page 0,63

one night and confessed my plans with Ivy to him, he was the who made the obvious suggestion.

What punishment could be worse for the family responsible for disfiguring me and murdering my blood? Scars, he said simply. Leave them with scars if you choose to leave them alive at all.

At the time, it seemed so simple and obvious. Of course, Ivy should have scars. Something to match my own. A permanent, unavoidable reminder of her father's sins every time she looks in the mirror.

For months, I had fantasized about all the ways I would do it. Burn her. Cut her. Etch my name into her throat. Perhaps even ink a skull onto the right side of her face to match my own. An image that would undoubtedly haunt her.

But now she is here, in my house, and I have not followed through with those plans. I am not any closer to finalizing the details, and I am not willing to admit that I hesitate to do so for reasons I don’t quite understand.

"She has a pretty face." Judge swirls the drink in his glass and takes a sip. "I suppose it would be a shame to ruin it."

Something in his tone and the quirk of his brow makes me think he is amused by my admitted weakness when it comes to her.

"It is only because she is beautiful that I have hesitated."

My words aren't convincing, even to me. But I am certain with time, I will be able to fulfill this silent promise to myself. When the moment is right, I will execute the plan as intended.

"Regardless of whether she is scarred yet, I can assure you, she will suffer."

"I'm sure she is already," he muses. "Of that, I have no doubt."

His words settle over us, and we finish off our drinks in silence. I need to ask something of him, which is a part of the purpose of our meeting this afternoon. Ideally, I should have asked him before the wedding, but I was busy dealing with Abel.

"Any news on her father?" he asks.

"No. Nothing new anyway. My men are still investigating, but there has been no new information. I have a meeting with the Tribunal to discuss the progress on the investigation at the beginning of the month."

Judge is quiet and thoughtful before he glances at me with an intensity that makes him a formidable opponent to weaker men than me. "And have you considered that there may never be more information? What then?"

"I have considered it." I shrug. "But I won't accept it."

"Well, that may be the case. But it is about as useful as a man telling Mother Nature he will not accept her storm."

Ignoring his obvious point is the only option I have at this stage. I can't accept that I may never truly have one hundred percent certainty or evidence of Eli's guilt. It is something I have considered from every angle. And I only know the obvious, what I feel deep in my gut. He is responsible, and I refuse to believe otherwise until there is undeniable proof.

"There is another reason I asked you here," I tell Judge. "Apart from the philosophical musings of my revenge."

"I suspected as much." He chuckles.

"I have a request to make." I clear my throat and feel oddly out of place. "I would like to invoke the sacred pact. For my wife, I would like to grant you the customary rite should anything happen to me."

"I trust that nothing will happen to you," Judge answers quietly, "but I accept your grant of the rite to me."

Some of the tension dissolves from my shoulders, and I retrieve an additional portfolio from my drawer, sliding it over to him. "My wishes are all documented there. Every last detail of what should happen to Ivy and her family in my absence."

He nods, eyes drifting to the portrait of my sister on the wall. "I am becoming quite the collector of responsibilities. First Mercedes, and now your wife."

There's a flicker of something in his gaze I don't recognize as he studies the image of Mercedes.

"For your trouble, I believe I should also leave you the bulk of my finances for agreeing to take on Mercedes in my absence," I jest.

"That won't be necessary." Judge smirks. "It would be a pleasure to tame such a wild mare."

My eyebrow arches at his insinuation, and I find it strange that he should mention Mercedes in such a way. He has always been cold to her.