Reparation of Sin: A Sovereign Sons Novel by Zavarelli, A. (a book to read .txt) 📕

materialistic comforts in life to abandon them. Something about this situation reeks of betrayal, and I won't rest easy until I know who's behind it.

"Call the secretary of the Tribunal," I tell him. "Inform them we need a body removal at this address. I want you to do one final sweep of the place and then burn it down when she's gone."

"On it, boss." He nods.

"Call me when it's handled."

* * *

"Dominus et Deuce.” Abel bows as he opens the door to the Moreno family home, his voice pleasant but features tight. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Santiago?"

"Cut the shit." I grab him by the collar and slam him back against the banister, my switchblade grazing his throat as his eyes bulge. "I know what you did."

“Please do inform me of what crime has brought you here this evening,” he says. “I am not aware of it myself.”

“Two words,” I spit. “Birth control.”

"Fucking Ivy," he growls. "Whatever she told you is a lie."

"Don't toy with me, you piece of shit." The blade nicks his skin, crimson dripping down over my fingers. "I just came from Chambers’ house. I know he's gone. Someone is trying to cover their ass."

"Chambers?" Abel repeats dumbly. "I don't know anything about that."

My eyes narrow as I dig the blade deeper, biting into his skin. Abel hisses, trying to jerk out of my grasp, but he knows he can't. There's nowhere to run. Not from me.

“And what about Holton? Will he be missing too?”

“Fuck if I know,” he bites out. “What does Holton have to do with anything?”

"This is a dangerous game you've been playing," I tell him. "It leaves me to question if you value your life at all. Not to mention the lives of your siblings. Your mother. Your father. Your sister, who I should remind you lives under my roof."

His jaw flexes, but his resolve remains unwavering.

"Tell me what purpose it served to inject my wife with birth control," I demand. "What benefit could there be to risk her life in such a way?"

"Whatever agreement she made with Chambers was hatched between the two of them," he answers bitterly. "That fucking girl never does as she is told. I had no idea about any birth control, so perhaps the person you really need to speak with is your own wife. Of course, I imagine that's why you find yourself here in the middle of the night, is it not? A little difficult to trust someone who lies constantly. Someone who tried to kill you not that long ago, if memory serves correct."

His biting words do nothing to temper my rage, but I can’t deny he has a point. Was it Ivy? Was she the one who made the agreement with Chambers about the birth control? And is he the one who helped her secure the poison as well?

Abel sees me wavering. The tilt of his lips and amusement in his eyes burns the still-fresh wound of his sister's betrayal, and he knows it.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't slit you from ear to ear right now." My blade digs deeper still, slicing through layers of flesh as Abel stares up at me, unblinking. He's emotionless, and I thought for certain he'd be pleading for his life. But instead, he seems to be aware of something I am not.

"You won't kill me." He reaches up and wraps his fingers around the blade, cutting himself as he yanks it away from his throat and forces his way out of my grasp. "And you won't kill Ivy. I can see it in your eyes. She tried to murder you, yet she still breathes. There is only one plausible explanation for that. She’s inside your head. She’s getting to you.”

A caustic laugh rumbles from his chest as he shakes his head. "Human emotion is such a weakness, isn't it, Santiago? I did not think you capable, but it appears even machines can be taught how to love."

"Love has nothing to do with it.” I clip the words through gritted teeth.

"Then why did you allow her to send you on a fool's mission?" he challenges. "Chasing your answers all over the city when you already have them at home. You just don't want to accept that it was your wife's scheme. That she couldn't bear the idea of having your children. A monster's baby, I believe that was the phrase she used. Perhaps you should ask her about that."

"Ivy isn't lying about this."

I’m not sure I even believe my assertion. Abel might be a fucking flea, but he has a valid observation, and it's an obvious one. I did exactly as he says. I believed what she told me and came here for the truth, when I should be forcing it from her lips instead. Why didn’t I challenge her on this? Why would I assume that, after recent events, I could chance anything she says to be truthful?

"It seems to me you have yet to weed out all the traitors in your own home," Abel says somberly.

My eyes snap back to his. "What traitors?”

He sighs as if the information he's about to relay pains him deeply. "I have it on good authority that someone very close to you provided my sister with the lipstick she wore that night at the gala. I'm sure I don't even need to mention her name. You already know who it is."

The blood in my veins reaches to a boiling point, searing me from the inside out. I should murder him for even hinting at the idea, but a dark seedling of a thought begins to take shape. Mercedes was the one who dressed Ivy that night. She helped her prepare. She purchased the clothes and did her makeup. How could Abel possibly know that? He wasn't there.

As I study him, fingers locked around the switchblade, I'm still considering the consequences of stabbing him between the eyes when he offers one last nail in