Chapter 8 - The bloodline test
Vincent left Celeste trembling in the dining room and went straight to his mother's quarters. He bypassed the lock with his master key and stepped inside.
Eleanor was already awake, fully dressed in her signature navy blouse and pearls, looking out the frost-covered window.
Vincent walked over to the mantelpiece, picked up the brass clock, and crushed the small audio transmitter beneath the heel of his polished shoe.
“He’s alive,” Vincent stated flatly.
Eleanor did not gasp. She did not faint. She simply closed her eyes, a profound, exhausting sadness settling over her wrinkled, dignified features.
“He’s been living under this house,” Vincent continued, his voice steady but carrying the weight of a rising storm. “For twenty years. You told me he died of a weak heart. You let me bury an empty casket. Why?”
Eleanor finally turned to look at her son. Her bright blue eyes were hard, fierce, burning with the protective fury of a mother.
“Because he was going to kill you, Vincent,” she said, her voice steady and clear in the quiet room.
Vincent froze.
“Your father was going mad,” Eleanor continued, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair. “The power, the paranoia, it was eating him alive. He looked at you, his strongest, most capable son, and he didn't see a successor. He saw a threat. He thought you were plotting with the rival families to overthrow him. I found the orders on his desk one night. He had arranged a hit on his own son.”
Vincent felt the air leave his lungs. He remembered a drive he was supposed to take twenty years ago, a late-night meeting at the docks that got canceled at the last minute because his father had suddenly collapsed.
“I made him his tea every night,” Eleanor whispered, a single tear rolling down her rosy cheek. “I crushed the seeds. I poisoned the man I loved because I knew every day he grew weaker was another day you got to live. But he figured it out before the dose was lethal.”
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Vincent stared at her, the horrific truth settling over him. “He made a deal with you.”
“He agreed to vanish,” Eleanor said softly. “He agreed to fake his death and let you take the throne, on the condition that he retained ultimate control from the shadows. I agreed, to keep you breathing. I have been his prisoner in this house for two decades, Vincent. I knew he was testing you last night. He used Celeste to see if you were still strong enough to defend our bloodline.”
