The news was out. 'Ariella Voss was the new head of the empire'. The queen.
Whispers followed me wherever I went. In the halls. In the streets. In the hushed tones of men who had once laughed freely in Gideon's presence but now measured every word in mine.
The throne had been claimed, and the blood I left behind on the conference table served as proof that I didn't just sit in the chair but owned it.
By midday, the house was quieter than usual. Even the guards barely breathed too loud. I could feel the air shift before I heard the knock. It wasn't Elias, and it wasn't one of my men. Their knock held a blend of respect and fear. This one... was clumsy, hesitant. Like someone who didn't quite belong.
I turned away from the window and glanced at Elias, who stood at his usual post by the far wall. He gave a small nod, already knowing who it was. Of course he did.
"Send him in," I said, turning my back on the door.
It creaked open slowly. And then there, a very familiar face stood; my father. I hated how the past always found a way to claw its way to my present.
He stood gaunt and weak. His once-imposing frame now slouched with the weight of years wasted in alcohol, gambling, and cowardice. His face was lined, more with shame than age, and his eyes flicked nervously around the room before settling on me.
"Ariella," he said, like he had a right to say my name.
I stared at him, giving him nothing. Not warmth, not anger. Just the silence he deserved.
He took a tentative step forward but I held up a hand, signalling him to stay where he was. "I heard... I heard what you did. They say you're in charge now. You...you really did it."
Still, I said nothing.
His voice cracked. "You've become someone important. Someone I never would have thought you would become. I just wanted to say... I'm proud."
Proud.....
That word tasted bitter in my mouth.
I remembered the smell of stale whiskey on his breath, the sound of his fists connecting with my face one too many times, the broken sobs of my mother as she begged him to stop.
I remembered the night he'd lost a lot of money gambling. He'd taken out his anger on my mother; he had hit her again and again while she cried and begged him to stop.
I remembered the morning I found her cold in bed, her lip split, her eye swollen shut. She hadn't woken up. And he'd said it was her fault for being weak.
He had killed her.
And then, not long after, he sold me. To Gideon. To that monster. Or perhaps he hadn't even sold me, perhaps he had just used me as a means of settling the debt he owed. I had been eighteen. Just barely an adult. And he had tossed me to wolves to save his sorry neck.
And now he stood in front of me, shaking, lips trembling. Like a leaf begging the storm not to blow.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, my voice colder than the marble beneath our feet.
His eyes lit up with a hopeful gleam. The bastard thought I was easy. "Yes. Yes, Ariella. I was wrong. I know that now. I've changed. I haven't touched a drink in weeks. Please, I just want to see you again. To know you're okay."
I stepped forward slowly, each click of my heel like the tick of a countdown.
"You killed my mother," I said, voice steady. He needed to be reminded.
He flinched.
"You hit me, you sold me off. You didn't raise me, and you ruined me."
"I didn't know—"
"You didn't care." I snapped.
He fell silent.
I stood so close now I could smell the sweat on him. That same coward's sweat I remembered as a child when he'd run from men he owed money to.
"You came here thinking I'd forgive you? That a few kind words and some pathetic groveling would erase the hell you carved into me?"
His lip trembled. "I'm your father."
I shook my head.
"No," I said. "You're a ghost in my past. One I buried a long time ago. You stopped being my father the day you killed her."
He looked like he might cry. Like the weight of his regret was finally cracking the brittle shell of his pride. Good. Let it.
"I don't want to see you again. Not here. Not ever. If you come near me again, I will kill you."
I meant every word I said. I would kill him and I would let everyone know that I was just as ruthless as Gideon or even more so.
He stepped back, shame wrapping around him like a noose. "Please, Ariella. I have no one left."
I turned away.
"Good. I hope you die alone." I said. "Know that no one will mourn you."
I didn't watch him leave, I didn't need to. I felt the void he left behind fill with silence.
Elias remained still for a long moment, then finally walked toward me. I didn't turn to him, but I knew he was there. Solid and dependable.
"Do you want him followed?" he asked quietly.
"No," I said. "If he's smart, he'll disappear. If he's not..."
I didn't need to say it again; I would kill him.
Outside, the empire moved beneath my feet. Whispers turned to obedience. Fear gave way to control. But inside me, something ancient stirred; a hole that had been carved into my soul since the day my mother died.