Relentless Sinner

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jaxon

Gabriella fell asleep in my arms.

I waited until I knew she was in a deep sleep before I moved her and placed her on the bed.

I changed my clothes, and I’ve been lying next to her since, watching her sleep.

It’s been one of those long fucking days I wish I could have skipped. I wasn’t even with Estelle. She left me when she left the house.

I had to go back to the office, and that’s when the shit went down to shift the direction of my day.

I got some intel about a guy who’s been working with Damien and Yuri. I went to check it out and ended up in a blood battle and gained nothing more than I knew before.

Whatever my uncle and cousin are planning is cleverly designed to have me running around in circles trying to figure out what they’ll come up with next.

Chaos is taking over my life.

Damien and Yuri are plotting some secret something to overthrow my leadership, my father-in-law is plotting to steal my wife, and Levka is trying to worm his way into my marriage.

Eve gave me a heads-up earlier about what that motherfucker did, so when I asked Gabriella about him, I already knew.

I’m going to deal with him when I next see him. How fucking dare he even speak to her?

The fucker is trying to hedge his way around into taking her, too. I’ve had years of experience of knowing how he works, so I know he wants Gabriella for himself. His little plot was to try and turn her against me with the hope that he could get her in his bed.

If that had ever happened, I would have cut his dick off and fed it to him.

Gritting my teeth, I allow the rage to quell from me, then breathe in slowly with the hope to try and calm the fuck down.

Slowly, my mind shifts back to the present and I stare at Gabriella. She has that innocent look again, and her delicate doll face, adorned by that velvety hair, doesn’t even look real in the moonlight.

Something more happened between us tonight that takes precedence over everything. It felt magical, and I know we’re on the same page now. Finally.

As I look at her, I realize she must have been under a lot of pressure to crack the way she did.

We haven't been in each other's lives long, but it's been long enough for me to know she's not the kind of girl who gets drunk off her face for no reason.

Apart from the Levka shit, that was my fault. I feel bad for pushing her that far.

Logic tells me we could have spoken weeks ago about what was bothering her and I could have said the same things I said tonight. It’s not like I didn’t know we needed to talk. But our hearts were in different places then.

Weeks ago, I couldn’t have told her I was hers, and she didn’t want to belong to me.

Weeks ago, what I saw in her was confusion and conflict.

There was a constant wrestling of emotion where she was trying to stop herself from feeling anything for me. That’s not there anymore.

Earlier as I looked at her, I could see the wealth of love in her eyes for me, and I knew she’d finally given herself to me.

It’s another accomplishment, but I still feel like I’m left with the question of what next. Right now, I know I want to make things better for us.

I don’t want to look back and feel like the asshole when I think about how we came to be. I want to remember the parts where we fell hard for each other.

My life began when I rescued her—the princess in the tower—from her monsters. I don't want to be another monster in her life.

I lean forward and brush a soft kiss over her lips then rest my head back on the pillow. Just as I close my eyes, my phone rings.

I don't know who could be calling me now, but these types of phone calls at this hour of the night are always important.

I grab my phone from the nightstand before the buzzing noise wakes Gabriella. I look at the screen and see it's éowyn, my father's nurse.

Instantly, my insides twist because I think something's happened to him. I answer the phone straight away and make my way out to the landing so I can talk to her properly. “What's happened, éowyn?”

“I'm so sorry to call you at this hour, Jaxon. Your father is okay, but he's… he's acting irrational.”

That’s nothing new, but he must be more dramatic than normal. “What’s happening?”

“He thinks we're trying to kill him.” Her voice is a hushed whisper, suggesting my father could be nearby.

After hearing that, I understand the reason for the call. “Why does he think that?”

“He's been ranting about it for hours. He thinks that someone here is trying to poison him. He said there was poison in his dinner.”

Oh, fuck. The shitty thing is he could be right. My father is an expert in poisons. Before he became Pakhan, Father was one of the deadliest assassins who ever lived. His specialty was killing by poison.

His illness may have rendered him weak and paranoid over the last few months, but I can’t overlook his suspicions. Not when my uncle tried to bomb us.

“He’s asking for you. He won’t go to sleep unless you’re here. He thinks someone’s going to try and kill him in his sleep.”

“Jesus.” I never thought I’d live to see the day when my father would need me like this. Me of all the people. He finally trusts me. Now that he’s dying and can’t trust anyone else.

“I know it’s late, but he wants you here. And he’s asking to summon the Creed guards. As he's no longer the Pakhan, they need your authorization first.”

I raise a weary hand to my head and breathe out a ragged sigh. The Creed guards are only summoned in a high state of emergency. If he’s asking for them, it means he feels like he can’t trust his men either.

I swallow hard and think about what to do. I have the distinct memory of being ten years old and him locking me in a cage all night with wolves prowling around it because I was scared of the dark. We went to Russia to visit family, and I’d apparently embarrassed him in front of everyone when I confessed my fears. He said no son of his was going to grow up to be a slabak — a wimp, weakling, coward.

Now look what’s happened to him.

“Okay. Tell him I’m on my way.” My shoulders sag, and I lean against the wall. “So are the guards.”

éowyn sighs with relief. “Bless your heart, Jaxon. He’ll really appreciate this.”

“I know.”

“See you when you get here.”

We hang up, and I look back to the bedroom door.

I just got home. Now I have to go out again. Hopefully, I can resolve this matter as quickly as possible. I’m eager to get back to Gabriella.

We have more to talk about in the morning.

I find my father in the study, sitting by the window. In his arms, he clutches a picture of my mother.

Lifting his head weakly, he looks at me when I walk in. From the moment I look into his eyes, see how red they are, and take in the tear stains lining his cheeks, I know he's been crying. No, it’s more like sobbing. He has the same worn-down look a person has when they’re broken and can’t find their way back.

I've never seen him like this before.

“Jaxon.” The relief embedded in his tone is not one I've ever heard associated with my name.

“Hi, Father.” I pull up a chair and sit next to him.

He pants, nervously glancing back at the door, checking I closed it. I did when I came in.

“The guards are all here,” I assure him. “They arrived before I did.”

That's how the Creed guards work. Everything is done as quickly as humanly possible. They're like your personal SWAT team. Our Bratva has a similar setup, but the Creed guards are like a Black Ops version.

“I smelt it,” Father whispers.

“What did you smell?”

“The poison. It was arsenic. It’s mostly undetectable to our senses, but when heated, it smells like garlic.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just garlic?” I raise my brows and try to look like I’m reasoning with him.

“I know what I smelt. To me it’s always had a very distinct smell that tells you it’s not garlic. It’s like a hint of tangerines are laced in with it.”

Although he sounds a little crazed, I give him the benefit of the doubt and humor him, remembering his expertise in poisons.

I’ll also admit I’d probably sound just like him if I thought someone had tried to poison me and I was helpless.

“Okay, Father. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“éowyn took me down to the dining room. I had some fruit. Then the dinner was served. It was mashed potatoes and stewed chicken. I was about to start eating, when I smelled it. I remember smelling the same kind of thing weeks ago. But that was before we learned that Damien wanted us dead.”

“What happened weeks ago when you smelled it? Was it in the food, too?”

“Yes, and I ate it. And I was very sick. Back then, I didn’t know I had to fear for my life. I got better within a few days, so I imagine there couldn’t have been too much in the food. I also didn’t eat everything.”

“Father. This could be anxiety.”

He snarls at me. “Jaxon, don't fucking do that to me. I'm telling you someone tried to poison me. So, fucking listen.”

He looks even more crazed and… frightened.

“Okay, I'm listening and I’m going to look into it.”

“You may not find anything in the food. It will require rigorous tests. Besides, a man who’s brave enough to come into my home and fuck with me will know exactly what he’s doing to work in silence.”

He’s right. And now the question is, who tried to do this to him? “Who was here today?”

“Everyone. Four of the brigadiers, Levka, Magnus, Damien, and Yuri. They were all here. They could have convinced my staff to kill me.”

Anything is possible at the moment. In my world, I’ve learned that everyone has a price.

“I’ll look into it,” I promise. “How about you get some sleep now?”

He winces, gazes out the window, and hugs the picture of my mother tighter. So tight, his hands become paler.

“Father, why don't you give me that and head to bed?”

“No, I need to be close to her. I can't sleep in that room by myself.”

“I'm here now. I'm going to stay the night.”

He looks back at me, surprised.

“I've arranged for the Creed guards to stay with you for as long as we need them to.” I give him additional assurance.

“You did that?”

“Yes.”

He loosens his grip on the picture and stares back at me with that guilt and sadness I saw in him on the day I became Pakhan.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“It’s okay. Do you want me to help you get back to bed?”

He nods slowly. I get up and move behind the wheelchair. He glances up at me as I push it then looks back ahead of us. This is the first time he's allowed me to do this.

We take the elevator up to the second floor, where his room is. I help him to get into his bed, but he refuses to part with the picture of my mother.

He lies in the bed, resting on the stack of pillows, holding it next to his heart. He stares at me as I pull up a chair and sit opposite the bed.

“This is where you were born,” he mutters.

“I know. My mother insisted on having a home birth.”

“It wouldn't have made a difference if she'd gone to the hospital, you know? She would have still died. I think she wanted to be here because she knew what was going to happen. She knew she wasn't going to make it and wanted to die at home. I still tried to play God and stop her from dying.”

This is becoming a regular thing with him now where he suddenly starts talking about my mother. He’s been giving me bits and pieces of information that make her more real to me.

“What did you do?”

“I got a team of doctors. Everybody who could help her was here. There was a moment when I thought she’d be okay.”

“How?” I thought she died giving birth to me.

“When you were born, she was still alive, and I had hope. I thought my preparation plans worked.” He speaks in a tone of deep reverence that pulls on my heart. “I cut your cord, and she wanted to hold you, so I gave you to her. She sang to you: welcome, sweet angel, you’re home with me , you’re home with us . It was a song she made up. She sang it to you every day while she was carrying you in her belly. She loved you so much. When you were born, she got to see you, hold you, sing to you, and be your mother for two minutes. Then she died.”

My heart weeps at hearing the story I’ve never been told. I guess no one ever told me because it wasn’t their story to tell. It was my father’s.

My birthday was never really celebrated in our home because it was my mother’s death date.

Looking at my father now, I understand. Nothing makes how I was treated right, but I understand him. He’s still grieving.

He still loves my mother and always will. Maybe I had to experience love to know how he felt to lose it forever.

My father is the second person who I’ve watched fall asleep tonight.

As I no longer feel tired, I don’t sleep. I stay up and think.

Everything that’s happening doesn’t add up. There are too many moving parts. It’s like watching a horror movie and thinking the villain is a superhuman before you realize there’s more than one person.

The fucked-up thing about my situation is I know about Damien and Salvatore. But they have their own agendas.

I’m in charge now, so I need to stop pussyfooting around and lay down the law.

Gabriella and I are supposed to be going away for a few days. I want to take her away from this and give us the break we deserve. I’ll set things up here so the Creed guards can stay until we return.

A powerful man like me is supposed to make anything he wants possible. Even something as simple as a break for what should be our honeymoon.

I put the idea in motion a few hours later when I spot Levka walking into the dining room. He nearly shits himself when he notices the Creed guards in the house.

I walk up to him and square my shoulders, staring him down.

“I heard your father had an episode. I came to check on him,” Levka says glancing at the two guards standing by the door.

“To see if he’s dead? Newsflash, he’s still alive.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Don’t fucking start with me. And for the record, don’t you ever speak to my wife again.”

He smirks. “Come on, Jaxon. Everyone’s going to assume you’re fucking your assistant.”

That does it. I snap, grab his neck, and shove him into the wall. “I’m not fucking my assistant. And you had no right to tell my wife I was. Don’t speak to her ever again. If you do, I will cut out your tongue. Do. You. Hear. Me?”

He’s losing air and spluttering but manages to nod. I know I promised Eric I wouldn’t use my fists, but with some things, you have to.

“I hear you. Now let me go.”

I release him, and he coughs, staring back at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.

There’s too much shit going on, so I need the Beast to get through it.