I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 86: Chapter 86

Darius’s pov

The sound of the door opening got my attention. I have been locked in here for days now, I have lost count.

I lifted my eyes just as the bright light blinded me when they opened the door.

I threw my forearm over my face, squinting through the glare. I was still curled on the damp floor, clutching my ruined right shoulder to my chest.

Blood had dried black across my lapels, cracking every time my chest expanded in a shallow, painful breath. My muscles were stiff from the cold.

A massive guard stood in the doorway, his silhouette blocking most of the light from the corridor.

"Get up," the guard said, "You’re free to leave."

My head snapped around, my bloodshot eyes widening in disbelief. "What?" I rasped, my throat raw and dry as sand.

"You’re no longer a threat to the ritual," the guard said, taking a step back into the hall. "Lord Balthazar says you’re not worth the cost of the iron to hold you. Get lost."

The words made a blinding rage shatter through the fog of my pain. My fists clenched and my thoughts spiraled all in the same breath.

Not worth the iron.

I have been reduced to a slave.

"You arrogant leech!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet.

I threw my weight forward, swinging my uninjured left fist straight at his jaw with every ounce of strength left in my body.

The guard casually brought his forearm up, blocked my blow like brushing away a fly, and backhanded me across the face.

The force of the hit cracked off the stone walls. My head snapped sideways, and I was launched off my feet, crashing hard onto the cell door.

Blood filled my mouth instantly, spilling over my split lip onto my collar.

"I said get lost, old man," he growled, turning his back and walking down the corridor without looking back.

I lay on the cold stone, gasping for air, spitting blood onto the floorboards. I dragged myself up, my body shaking violently with rage, embarrassment, and agony.

I limped and headed towards an exit. The urge to turn back and cause chaos was just at the back of my mind but I knew in my state, I wouldn’t get much done.

I hitched a ride back to my house, wondering how I could explain my absence.

I got home and as usual, everywhere was silent. Typical, everyone in this house was fucking clueless and as usually, I am left to handle everything on my own.

Fucking idiots.

I stomped my feet all the way to my study, I slammed the doors open, savoring the smell.

Gideon was sitting behind my desk, his leather boots propped up on the surface, a glass of twenty-year-old whiskey resting in his lap.

He wore a crisp suit jacket, his hair slicked back, his pale eyes tracking me as I stumbled into the room, covered in dried blood, my clothes torn, my shoulder hanging uselessly at my side.

He leaned forward, setting the crystal glass on the desk with a sharp clink, his eyes narrowing as he searched the empty hallway behind me.

"Where is he?" He demanded, his voice utterly devoid of concern. "Where is Lysander? Did you get him?"

I stood near the doorway, my chest heaving, my teeth grinding together so hard my jaw ached. I slowly shook my head, unable to force the humiliation past my lips.

His face twisted into an ugly sneer. He slammed his palm down onto the desk, jumping out of the leather chair so fast the heavy furniture scraped loudly against the hardwood floor.

"You failed?!" He yelled in disbelief, "Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?! After all your bragging about how powerful you and your influence! You said you were going to handle Drake!"

He stepped around the desk, marching toward me, his finger jabbed aggressively into the air. "A simple task! A single, fragile freak that we raised in our own house, and you couldn’t even bring him home! You’re useless! You’re not half as powerful as you brag to be!"

Gideon was the worst thing to ever happen to me and sometimes, I overlook his words because he is just an airhead but hearing my failure and humiliation from what I just faced, him focusing on something else other than my injured self snapped a wire inside my head.

I stepped forward and brought my left hand across Gideon’s face with everything I had.

SLAP!

Gideon’s head jerked to the side, his hand springing to his red, stinging cheek, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at me.

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed, my voice raw and broken, blood spraying from my split lip onto his crisp lapels. "Shut your fucking mouth, Gideon! I am nursing a ruined shoulder and a dead security force, and you stand there barking at me like a spoiled dog!"

I dragged my hand over my face, pacing back and forth, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Why?!" I yelled into the quiet room, my hands shaking violently. "Why was I cursed with a useless, incompetent son?! I built an empire! I spent twenty years covering up my father’s mistakes, building a legacy that could buy everything! And yet, you have zero regard for anything I’ve worked for! You ruin every asset you touch!"

He let out a harsh, bitter bark of laughter, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes burned with an ugly, venomous resentment as he stepped directly into my space.

"Oh, cry me a river!" He snapped back, his voice dripping with disgust. "Act like you did it all for me! You didn’t build an empire for your family, Father, you built it for your own bloated ego! You were never Father of the Year, so don’t start pretending now! You treated me like a disappointment from the day I was born!"

"This is all your fault!" I roared, stepping nose-to-nose with him, my bloodshot eyes boring into his.

"Every bit of this collapse rests on your shoulders! If you had kept it in your pants, we wouldn’t be in this mess! But no, you couldn’t just keep your fucking hands to yourself! You had to fuck your own stepbrother, and then you were stupid enough to broadcast it for every body to see!"

The useless boy just stared at me impassively till a slow unhinged grin curved his mouth.

"Oh, that’s rich," he sneered, his laughter dark, mocking, and cold. "You love to stand there acting all high and mighty, don’t you? The grand corporate mogul! The respectable patriarch! But you’re one to talk, father. You think I don’t know?"

My breath hitched in my throat. "Know what?"

"Don’t okay dumb with me, old man." He rolled his eyes, "You like to act like the saint but you are even worse than I am. I am the one they see coming, but you? You are the one they run to that ends up doing even way worse than me."

"What the hell are you on about?" I yelled at him.

Gideon leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing into slits, a sickening grin spreading across his face.

"I know you jerked off to those videos," he whispered, "I know you watched every single angle of what I did to him."

I froze.

"Yes, I know everything. You are a pervert. Like father, like son." Gideon continued, stepping forward until his chest almost brushed mine, "I know you went inside Lysander’s room right after you gave him that heavy sleeping pill."

He tilted his head, his eyes glittering with malicious triumph as he locked his gaze onto mine.

"So tell me, Dad," he taunted me, "What did you go in there to do? Did you fuck your little boy like a sick freak or did you use his mouth as a warm hole for your cock?"

My rage blinded me till all I could see was a bright light.

"You filthy little—!"

I raised my hand high, my fingers curling into a heavy fist, bringing it back to shatter his jaw when a loud gasp came from the open doorway behind us.

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