Joseph Fallen (The Estate Series) (17 page)

Her body shook, her eyes never leaving Connor’s when she
leaned over his body and placed the blade to his neck.
 
The skin of his throat moved over the
steel of the blade when he instructed, “Push deep and pull hard.
 
There are only two veins you need to
cut.”
 
He paused to catch his breath
before adding, “I know you love me, I know we could have been good
together.
 
We were.
 
I’m sorry to leave you behind, Arianna.”
 
He closed his eyes and his head leaned
back against the grass, awaiting his fate.

She allowed her anger towards Joseph to drive her, to
provide strength to the muscle in her arm.
 
Squeezing her eyes shut against the terror she felt, she opened them
again and gritted her teeth when she dragged the blade across his neck, hard
and deep just like he’d instructed.
 
Blood shot out from the wound, streaming in pulses from his body, the
beat of his heart driving the spray.

Falling back, Arianna screamed.
 
The knife fell from her hand and she
reached up, pulling at her hair in absolute misery at what Joseph had forced
her to do.
 
She watched the color
drain from Connor’s face, his eyes rolling beneath his eyelids while he
struggled to breath.
 
She placed her
hand on his chest, felt the strength of his heart dissipate and fade, until,
finally, it no longer beat beneath her hand.
 
She didn’t care if Joseph saw her touch
him, she wanted to let him know she was there until the last minute, until the
last bit of life was drained from his body.

Strong hands gripped around her biceps.
 
She was lifted from the ground and held
in a standing position over Connor.
 
Warm breath trailed down her skin when Joseph leaned over to whisper in
her ear.
 
“I’m impressed, beautiful.
 
To be honest, I never thought you’d
actually do it.”

She didn’t respond, couldn’t force her lips to move so she
could tell him just how much she despised him.
 
Every part of her body had gone numb,
her mind reeling from having been forced to extinguish the flame of her lover’s
life.

Joseph pulled her back away from the body, but held her
still when they’d retaken their previous position within the circle.
 
Leaning down to her again, he laughed
before saying, “You didn’t think I’d let my men miss out on the show, did you?”

His hand raised in the air.
 
His fingers snapped.
 

Her jaw dropped open when she saw the cars lurch forward and
Connor’s body was torn apart in midair.

Three years.
 
Three years that she’d been alone, trapped in a prison where she was
beaten nightly; raped and molested when the beast that was her husband fancied
her touch.
 
She was allowed to
remain in her suite in the right wing.
 
Security was heightened; she was monitored by both cameras and the
living eyes of Joseph’s men.
  
There was nowhere she could go where she wasn’t watched, there was no
escape from the life Joseph had built for her.

But there was a small light, a single flame that not even
Joseph would extinguish, and that little boy was everything to her.
 
Aaron grew fast, his small body becoming
strong when he learned to crawl, to walk…to run.
 
His hair remained the color of pitch
black night and his skin was a natural golden tan.
 
He had a laugh that could light up any
room, and he was fearless when it came to trying new things.
 
But his eyes; over time they’d started
to change, becoming a brilliant sapphire blue by the time he was two.
 
Joseph had noticed, but had quickly
brushed it off that the child had inherited Arianna’s eyes.
 
However, when veins of green started to
show from beneath the azure surface, Arianna quickly questioned everything she
thought she knew.

It was a gradual change; one she hoped would stop.
 
In her heart she was desperate to learn
that they’d been wrong, that Aaron had been Connor’s child and not Joseph’s,
but she feared what Joseph would do to Aaron if he found out.
 
She lived in fear, each day waking to a
child, looking deep in his eyes, scared senseless that she’d wake to the
emerald green of Connor’s eyes.
 

The midwife had told her that his eyes could change.
 
She’d said it was common for children to
be born with grey or blue eyes, and for those eyes to eventually turn to a
lighter or darker shade as they grew older.

Sitting in her bedroom, she stared out at the red walls, not
wanting to move, much less walk into a living room she knew was occupied by
several of Joseph’s guards.
 
He no
longer kept her chained; and he had no reason to continue locking her up.
 
She had no spirit left in her.
 
He’d broken her that night on the
field.
 
He’d taken something of
beauty, of redemption and light and he’d made her destroy it, made her commit
an act so vile, she could never forgive herself for having done it.
 
Never again would she attempt to leave,
and for the sake of Aaron, never again would she fight against the will of her
husband.

She felt empty – completely lost to the insanity that
permeated the walls of the house, only able to keep herself sane by caring for
her son.

Joseph’s depravities had worsened and death was a common
occurrence each time he held a meeting within the network.
 
He ruled his organization with an iron
fist, never allowing one man to go without punishment for the smallest
infraction.
 
He enjoyed delivering
his sentences, each time surprising his audience with just how sick and twisted
he could become.
 
She loathed him,
loathed the network of men that worked for him, but she stood dutifully when
she was called to attend the meetings, sat beside him imitating the committed
wife.
 
It kept Aaron alive.
 
That was her only concern.

Sitting on the side of her bed, she pulled black stockings
over her legs before standing up to slip a one sleeved black dress over her
body.
 
He wanted her to dress up, to
have a picture made with him before he started the night’s meeting.
 
His network, his
family
, his money – those were the accomplishments he
flaunted to his men, to anyone and everyone who met him.
 
If you didn’t know him, you’d think he
was perfect.
 
It was frightening how
charismatic he could be when there was nothing beneath his skin but a dead
heart and the soul of a demon.

She sat at her vanity, brushing her long, blonde hair,
waiting for him to arrive.
 
When she
heard the click of the door handle, she turned, pushing up on to her feet so
that she didn’t keep him waiting.
 
She’d learned not to anger him, to submit to every dark desire he had in
order to avoid his violence, if only for a night or two.
 
Even though he slept with her often and
never used protection, she didn’t become pregnant again.
 
She was thankful for that fact, but it
made her wonder even more about who had fathered her son.

“Arianna.
 
You
look beautiful.
 
Once again, the men
will envy the beauty of the woman at my side.”
 
His voice purred, anticipation heightening
his spirits for the meeting that was to come.

She smiled in response, always playing the perfect
wife.
 
“Thank you, Joseph.
 
You look handsome as usual.”
 
Her eyes looked over the charcoal
colored suit, the purple silk tie that shone beautifully beneath the light of
the room.
 
The jacket of his suit
fit perfectly over his broad shoulders, and his pants hung seductively off his
waist.
 
He truly was a beautiful
man, but inside him was nothing more than poison, death, hatred and rage.

“We should hurry, I want to get this picture out of the way,
so we won’t be late to the ballroom.”
 
Reaching for her hand, he grasped her fingers between his, squeezing
them before leading her out of the bedroom and down the corridor to the living
room.
 
Her eyes glanced at the men
dispersed throughout the room, not being given much time to look at each one
when Joseph dragged her quickly through the room.

Entering the office that hadn’t been used by Joseph since
they moved in, Arianna saw a man standing to the side, camera equipment set up
in order to capture their image.

The photographer pointed to an area he had set up before
they’d arrived.
 
“Joseph, if you
would take a seat in the chair and Arianna, you should stand behind him.
 
I’ll make this quick so that you can
move on to more exciting events for the evening.”

Joseph chuckled at the photographer’s words, and then took a
seat where the photographer had asked.
 
Taking her place, she blinked against the bright lights that beamed down
on them.
 
A few flashes of a fake
smile, and the picture was done.
 
She hated it.
 
They hung in
the halls of her wing, a reminder of the false perfection of her life.
 
Every year he had one made, except for
when it came to Aaron.
 
Ever since
the child had been born, Joseph insisted on monthly photographs, his pride in
his son evident in the way he bragged.
 
She heard him describe Aaron as his greatest accomplishment, a thing
that would make him immortal, would help him cheat even death.

Having finished the sitting, Arianna followed behind Joseph
out of the suite and down the long corridor to the ballroom.
 
The two guards moved instantly to open
the doors, welcoming Joseph to a throne room of sorts.
  
A hush fell over the waiting
audience, dark souls that reveled in the lifestyle that Joseph had created for
them.
 
Climbing the stairs, Arianna
allowed a numbness to fall over her mind and her body.
 
It was the only way she could witness
the horrors that Joseph would command – it was the only thing keeping her
sane after taking part in the execution of the men who dared cross her husband.

After taking their seats, Joseph called the meeting to order
and requested Emory to escort the accused inside from wherever it was they were
kept.
 
Arianna looked over to the
doors of the west wing, not surprised when they walked a man in, but suddenly
becoming horrified to see that a woman carrying a baby, and a small boy were
walked in behind him.

She bit her tongue to keep from crying out, her eyes
tracking the family as they were being led to the center of the ballroom.
 
The mother was crying, her short
brunette hair hanging lifelessly around her face while she looked at the child
in her arms.
 
The silence in the
room was agonizing; she didn’t know what to think or what her husband had
planned to do to the people standing before them.

“Gregory Shipp.
 
You’ve been caught stealing money from my network, from all of the men
in this room, from my wife who sits beside me.”

Arianna fidgeted in her chair, not appreciating that he’d
attached her in any way to what he was about to do.

Standing, Joseph walked towards the front of the stage, the
click of his heel a death march as he approached the scared man.
 
“You’ve been a member of my network for
quite some time, Mr. Shipp, and as I’m sure you are aware, there have been
three other occasions where some ignorant fool has attempted the same thing.”
 
Joseph paused before pacing the front of
the stage and asking, “Do you recall what happened to those men?”

The scared man looked up, his mouse brown hair falling back,
revealing areas where his hair was thinned and balding.
 
“Yes, Joseph.
 
The men were executed, they were shot.”

Joseph nodded and folded his hands behind his back.
 
Stopping before the man, he remained
quiet for a moment, a faint cough sounding from one of the men sitting at the
tables throughout the room.

“They were.
 
So I
assumed, as someone who’s seen that, you would have known better than to
attempt the same thing.
 
However,
since I am obviously wrong for having assumed that, I realize that I need to
step up the punishment.
 
Shooting a
man isn’t enough, is it?
 
You still
thought you could steal from The Estate.
 
So, Mr. Shipp, I’ll be stepping up the punishment tonight, hopefully
deterring the next ambitious soul who thinks he can cheat the network.”

The creak of the hinges of the doors to the right wing
interrupted Joseph, and he turned, annoyed with the intrusion.
 
One of his nameless men walked in and
quickly climbed the stairs of the stage to whisper to Joseph.
 
Her husband stilled, a bored expression
on his face when he motioned for her to follow the man out of the room.
 
She gladly complied, crossing the stage,
only to feel Joseph’s hand grip her arm before she could descend the stairs.

Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he instructed, “Deal
with our son and return immediately to the ballroom when you are done.”
 
He released her and returned to his
position on the stage.

Arianna climbed down quickly, letting her eyes glance at the
small boy with wild brown hair and wide blue eyes that glittered from the light
in the room.
 
He appeared to be the
same age as Aaron and the thought shocked her system more than she’d
liked.
 
He looked terrified and her
heart broke for the young soul and whatever fate he would face.

She traveled through the corridor as fast as she could.
 
The guard told her they were unable to
silence Aaron, and that he’d woken from a nightmare and was tearing apart his
room crying out for his mother.
 
For
as sweet as he was, Aaron had a vicious temper and she noticed that on some
days she was only able to lull him back to sleep or help him keep calm by
playing the song she’d written for him and had played for him since he’d been
born.

Finally reaching her young son’s room, she found him laid
across his mattress, screaming into the blankets, his little arms and legs
pumping furiously while he cried.

Sitting down beside him, she pulled his small body up from
the mattress to cradle him against her.
 
He calmed almost immediately, his small arms reaching up around her neck
as he settled his head against her chest.
 
She cooed to him, swaying him back and forth in an attempt to chase away
whatever nightmare had scared him.
 
Finally, when he had settled and his breathing grew deep and regular
from sleep, she laid him back down on the bed, covering him with blankets
before smoothing her hand over his head and kissing him on the cheek.

As soon as she stepped foot out of his room, the guard who
had led her back from the ballroom returned her to the meeting, her shoulders
were weighted with dread when they walked back, not knowing what she would find
when they entered the large room.
 
The creak of the large double doors announced her entrance and she
almost fell to the ground when her eyes caught sight of what had transpired in
her absence.

The father of the young family lay on the ground in a pool
of his blood, his body positioned in a way that wasn’t natural or possible
without having bones broken and ripped out of joint.
 
The screams of his wife hurt Arianna’s
ears as she watched the woman being dragged to a wooden table, crudely
fashioned with four iron shackles drilled into the table.
 
Arianna’s eyes immediately sought out
the two young children and an odd sense of relief blossomed in her chest when
she saw the young boy sitting on the ground holding his sister in his
arms.
 
When Arianna noticed what
they intended to do with the mother, her breath caught and she raced to the
boy’s side and looked up to the stage to find Joseph standing above at the
center front, a bored expression on his face while watching the men strip the
woman of her clothes before fastening her to the table, each intimate part of
her exposed to the crowd of men.
 
Slowly, Joseph’s head swiveled and when the molten grey of his eyes met
hers, he yelled, “Stop!”