22. Maryse

CHAPTER 22

MARYSE

T he marble floors of the Royal Gardens Hotel gleam under my heels. Each click echoes through the opulent lobby, a steady rhythm that matches my thundering heart.

"Name?" The concierge's perfectly manicured nails tap against her holoscreen.

"Maryse Daniels. We have an appointment with Captain Strongbow."

Behind me, Vorpa's scales catch the light from the crystal chandelier. Her sister Prova stands close, shoulders tense, golden eyes darting to every corner. The bruises from her captivity still mar her scales.

Dad did that. My father. The thought twists my stomach into knots.

"Ah yes, the Captain is expecting you. Penthouse suite." The concierge waves her hand toward the glass elevators. "Please proceed."

My hand trembles as I press the button for the top floor. The evidence weighs heavy in my pocket - datacubes filled with proof of my father's crimes. Each one represents a life destroyed, a family torn apart.

Vorpa places her clawed hand on my shoulder. "You're doing the right thing."

"I know." The words catch in my throat. "But he's still my father."

The elevator climbs higher, leaving my stomach somewhere near the lobby. Through the glass walls, Alpha Centauri Station spreads out below us, a maze of gleaming towers and transport tubes. Somewhere down there, my father goes about his day, probably planning his next atrocity.

"Ready?" Vorpa asks as the elevator chimes.

I straighten my spine, squaring my shoulders. The collar Bruticus gave me sits warm against my skin, hidden but present. A reminder that sometimes love means making hard choices.

"Let's do this."

Captain Strongbow answers the door herself, her pristine white uniform a stark contrast against the penthouse's dark wood paneling. Her medals gleam under the recessed lighting.

"Please, come in." She steps aside with military precision.

The penthouse suite stretches before us, all chrome and leather and floor-to-ceiling windows. A pitcher of ice water sits on the glass coffee table, condensation beading on its surface.

"Water?" Strongbow pours four glasses.

I watch her take a sip first before lifting my own glass. The ice clinks against crystal as I drink.

Vorpa spreads the datacubes across the table. Each projection springs to life - shipping manifests, security footage, financial records. My father's web of corruption laid bare in glowing blue light.

"This goes deeper than we initially suspected." Vorpa's claws click against one cube. "The slavery ring extends beyond just vakutans."

Prova shrinks into herself as the evidence of her torture plays out in miniature above the table. I reach for her hand and squeeze it.

"If all of this is true," Strongbow sets down her glass, "the three of you took a grave risk by coming here."

"It was calculated." I meet her steady gaze. "You're young enough to still believe in what the IHC stands for. Your record shows your dedication to honor and justice. We're betting you care more about that than about protecting a criminal, decorated war hero or not."

Strongbow's lips curl into a smile that sends ice through my veins. "It's fortunate you came to me first. The Commander would have been quite troubled if this had gone public."

The words don't make sense at first. My brain refuses to process their meaning, like trying to read text in a dream. "What do you mean?"

The crystal tumbler slips from my numb fingers. It hits the carpet with a muted thud, water spreading in a dark stain. My legs turn to jelly beneath me.

I look to Vorpa and Prova for help, but they're frozen in place. Only their eyes move, wide with panic and rage.

My back hits the floor. The plush carpet cushions my fall but I barely feel it. My limbs won't respond.

"But... the water. You drank it too." My tongue feels thick, clumsy.

Strongbow laughs, a cold sound devoid of warmth. "Antidote, my dear. Basic precaution when dealing with traitors."

She taps her comm unit. "All clear, sir. They're secured."

The door slides open with a soft hiss. Through blurring vision, I see polished boots step into view. My gaze travels up pressed uniform pants to the stern face I've known all my life.

Dad stands over me, his expression a mask of disappointment. "Oh, Maryse. What am I going to do with you?"

Bile rises in my throat as Strongbow drops to her knees, pressing her lips to Dad's polished boots. The sight of her - a decorated military officer - debasing herself makes my skin crawl.

"Did I do good, Daddy?" Her voice shifts to a simpering childish tone that turns my stomach.

"You were a very good girl, little Cunny." Dad pats her head like a pet dog. "I stepped in some offal on the street. Go ahead and clean that off for me."

The paralytic keeps me from turning away as Strongbow's tongue darts out. My father's smile widens as he looks down at me, his eyes glinting with a madness I never saw before.

"It occurred to me a long time ago that my brainwashing technique could be used for more than just making women into properly submissive, docile companions." His words drip with pride. "Imagine it, Maryse. Senators, starship captains, captains of industry...all licking my boots clean. We could be the most powerful family in the galaxy."

"Go to hell." The words slur past my numb lips. "You're a bad man."

Dad's face hardens. The mask of fatherly disappointment slips, revealing something dark and rotting beneath. "Such language. Don't worry, princess. Once the procedure is complete, you'll be my perfect little girl again."

My stomach heaves as he turns toward Vorpa and Prova. His boots click against the floor as he paces between them, one finger extended like he's choosing a pastry from a display case.

"Eenie, meenie, miney, moe." His sing-song voice makes my skin crawl. "Catch a vakutan bitch by the toe..."

He stops in front of Vorpa. Her golden eyes blaze with defiance even as her paralyzed body betrays her.

Dad's fingers trail down her jaw. "This one first, I think. The sister can watch and learn what happens to those who defy me."

The sound of tearing fabric fills the room. Vorpa's uniform falls away in strips. Dad's hands roam over her scales, his lips following in their wake. Silent tears streak down Vorpa's face, the only movement her frozen body allows.

Rage burns through the paralytic haze clouding my mind. Prison is too good for him. Death is too good for him. I'm going to make sure he never hurts anyone else.

Not ever again.

Prova's eyes squeeze shut, her only defense against the horror unfolding before her.

"Make her watch." Dad's command rings with casual cruelty.

Strongbow's fingers dig into Prova's scales as she wrenches the young vakutan's head up. "Yes, Daddy." Her simpering tone makes my skin crawl.

Ancient prayers spill through my mind - fragments of Reaper liturgy Bruticus taught me. The Precursors who gave birth to his people, who gifted them strength beyond measure. My fingers twitch. A spark of hope ignites in my chest.

The paralytic fights me, but rage burns hotter. My arm feels like it's moving through tar, each millimeter a battle of will against chemistry. But I'm my father's daughter - and just as stubborn as he is.

The holster at his hip comes into focus. Just... a little... further...

My fingers close around cold metal. The pistol slides free.

The sound of the shot drowns out everything else. The bolt goes wide, scoring the wall behind him. But it's enough to make him jump back from Vorpa, his face twisting with fury.

Dad yanks the gun from my weak grip. "I guess there's no time for fun." His casual tone sends ice through my veins. "That's okay. I've got plenty of time to do whatever I want to them later."

"Bruticus will save us." The words slur past my numb lips, but I make sure to enunciate his name clearly.

Dad's hand freezes on his belt buckle. His face drains of color, and for the first time I see real fear in his eyes.

My heart soars. That reaction tells me everything I need to know. Bruticus is alive. He's free. And my father is terrified of him.

"That half-breed mongrel?" Dad's voice wavers despite his attempt at bravado. "Station security will handle him."

"Like they handled him last time?" The paralytic makes my words thick, but I manage a smile. "How many bodies did they find in that alley?"

Sweat beads on Dad's forehead. His eyes dart to the windows, checking the shadows. Good. Let him be afraid.

His hands shake as he checks the message. Whatever he reads makes his face go even paler.

"Secure the building." He snaps at Strongbow. "Full lockdown. Now!"

My smile grows wider. The paralytic may have my body, but it can't touch the hope blazing in my chest.

Bruticus is coming.