13. Victoria

They leave,and a heavy, suffocating silence falls between me and Dad. It's always been like this—his authority pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe or think clearly. But I can't crumble—not now.

"Do you want to explain to me why you murdered Asher?"

If I thought this was going to be hard, I had no idea of the complexity of this issue right now.

"He abused me when I was younger."

There, I've said it. I wish I could run, hide, be swallowed up whole and spat out in a land far, far away.

His face is expressionless for a few moments before the black rage descends, and I involuntarily take a step back.

"What?" he spits out, rising in one fluid motion and closing the distance between us. "What?"

"Please don't make me repeat it," I say in a small voice, trembling with fear he is going to call me a liar.

He pulls back and goes icy. "When?"

"It started when I was nine. Got worse when I was twelve. Stopped when I was fourteen."

"That fucking bastard!" he spits out and turns to slam his fist into the wall next to the fireplace. "That fucking cocksucking piece of shit!" More punching. I jump each time his fist smashes into the wood, splintering it and probably his knuckles as well. I clutch my hands on my chest, rooted to the spot. "Why the bloody hell did you never tell me?" he yells, turning back to face me, rage and pain etched in every line on his face.

I swallow hard. "Because I was scared, Dad. Scared you wouldn't believe me. Scared of what he would do if he found out."

He takes a deep breath, trying to control the violent storm inside him. "You should have told me. I would've killed him the second you even breathed a word."

"I didn't know. I was afraid and ashamed, and I didn't know what to do."

"I've failed you, Victoria. As your father, I should have protected you from monsters like him."

"It's not your fault," I say softly, moving closer to him and placing a hand on his arm.

He opens his eyes and looks at me with such sadness that it breaks my heart. "It is. I should have known. I should have seen the signs."

"There were no signs," I insist, trying to ease some of his guilt, which pushes down on me so hard, my knees nearly buckle.

He shakes his head and walks to the window. His back is tense as he stares out into the darkness. "All these years. I welcomed him into my home, and he did this to you. That is my fault, Victoria."

"He's dead now."

"You slaughtered him."

"I did."

"I understand why. Sinclair Gannon told me about it right before you showed up. You called the Gannons to help clean up this mess."

"I didn't call anyone did. Cian did." Okay, it was Luke, but I'm not splitting hairs right now. It was Cian's order.

"Asking if you are all right seems trite and completely inadequate."

"I'm actually good. For the first time in years, I feel… free. It doesn't take away the darkness or what he did, but knowing he can't hurt me again is enough."

"Vicky," he says roughly and then drops to his knees, pressing his head against the windowsill. "I'm sorry."

His raw display of emotion stuns me. My father, the ever-imposing figure of authority and power, brought to his knees. It's almost surreal, and yet, I understand his pain. He feels responsible in a way I guess I never wanted him to. I told myself it was because I was scared he wouldn't believe me, but now I see I was lying to myself. This is what I didn't want. The guilt he feels which adds to the guilt I carry around. It's too much. It's suffocating.

"Dad, it's okay." My voice is shaky, but I force myself to sound strong. "It's done now. We can move forward. But please, don't tell Mum. I can't bear another scene like this. I just want to forget it."

"You can't ask me that."

"I can, and I am."

He lifts his head and looks at me with bloodshot eyes. "Moving forward doesn't erase what happened, Vicky, and neither does keeping your mother in the dark about it."

"It's my choice."

He rises again and gives me a searching stare. "Your men… they know all this?"

"Yes."

He nods stiffly.

"You can trust them to have my back. Always."

"If that's the case, why didn't one of them kill Asher?"

"I didn't want them to. I needed to do it. I avenge myself with my own hands. I'm not a stupid girl who needs everything done for her, Dad. When will you realise I can hold my own in this world and then some?"

"I know it," he says quietly. "But you're my daughter, Victoria. All I ever want is to protect you."

"I get it. I do. But…"

"You've got them now."

I smile sadly. "No, Dad. You're still not getting it. I don't need anyone to look after me. I can do it myself."

He sighs and rubs his hand over his face, his shoulders slumping. I go to him then, defeated and exhausted. I know how he feels. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me tightly. I return it just as fiercely. He needs it as much as I do.

"I trust you, Vicky."

Those three words mean more to me than anything else he has ever said. "Promise?"

His laugh is full of sorrow when he says, "Yes. Promise."

"About this strike on the Red Reapers. Got anything else you want to share?"

"Don't worry about them."

"It's kind of hard not to," I murmur.

"It's taken care of."

"We'll see." I pull away. "Bye, Dad. I'll speak to you soon."

He nods and I leave him, knowing I need to get back to the men I know are hovering outside the door. I'm not wrong. Cian comes to me the instant the door opens.

"Everything okay?"

I shrug. "Define ‘okay'. But I guess so."

He nods and I can see him itching to ask about the Reapers.

Laughing, I take his hand and kiss it. "He didn't say anything else about the Reapers. Apparently, it's taken care of."

"Except for the asshole who broke into your townhouse," Luke mutters his first words since entering the house.

"Unrelated?" Gianluca asks a damn good question.

"Maybe. I guess we'll see."

"Can we do that thing now?" he blurts out.

"What thing?" Cian asks.

"I want some time alone with Victoria," Gianluca tells him.

"Where?"

Giggling, I punch his arm lightly. "Not here. You and Luke go back to the townhouse. We'll catch up."

"I don't like you being out here and vulnerable."

"I'll protect her," Gianluca growls.

"Go," I insist. "We've got this."

We all walk out of my parent's house, glad that my mum didn't make an appearance. I just can't with her dramatics tonight. I love her, but she can make a mountain out of a molehill more than anyone I have ever met. So when that molehill is already a fucking mountain, I dread to think.

Cian pulls me closer outside and kisses my lips gently. "We'll talk when you get back."

I don't ask him about what. Everything and nothing. Our whole dynamic has changed, and we both know it. So, I simply nod and watch him and Luke get back into the car to drive off.