The Sins of Duke Evander (BOOK III)

Chapter 19- Grateful to You

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"Why?... That's a difficult question to answer, flower," I itched the back of my neck as she looked away from me, nervously looking back into the room

"Was this... Your parents' room?" She hesitantly asked, and I bit my bottom lip, not wanting her to know anything about them, so instead, I silently moved to pick her up in my arms.

"Yes," I eventually answered, on my way back to taking her to our room.

I better have a word with Clyde when the sun is up; On why the hell that door was left unlocked. I have someone go in to clean, and air out the room, but since it's carpet instead of floorboard, it's blood stained.

"Oh," Wrapping her arms around my neck, she tightly hugged me, her head resting in the crook of my neck, and sitting her down on my arm, I used my free hand to caress the back of her head as if she were a child.

"You're not going to ask?" I stepped into our room, closing the door behind us.

"You will tell me when you are ready. You said it's good to be curious, but I think we should limit that sometimes," I chuckled at her words, kissing her temple before tucking her back under the covers.

"Did you eat?" She nodded her head, getting comfortable as I slid out of my sweatpants and joined her under the covers, pulling her closer to me before resting my chin on her head.

"Are you not hungry?" She wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Not really," I hummed, hugging her tightly as I closed my eyes, reminiscing in the comfort of her presence, pushing back the memories of all those years ago. That day is gone, and it's not going to come back, those people are dead.

"Evan...?" Alina called.

Leaning back a bit, I cradled her face in my hands, leaning in to press my lips against her forehead before gifting her with a small smile.

I guess I can tell her the truth.

Who better to tell than my wife?

"...My parents were not nice people, Alina. Not like yours, they didn't care for me, at least, not in a way that a parent should. To them, I was but a puppet with no meaning, and for the longest time, I truly felt like one,"

She furrowed her brows, not saying anything, and instead, silently held me in her arms, not forcing me to speak, and not stopping me from speaking. So, I spoke.

"This scar-'' I pointed at the fading scar that ran through the end of one of my brows.

"I received it from my mother when I was three years old. She threw a wine bottle at me when I asked her if I could physically go to school," She flinched at my words, surprised, her arms tightening around my waist, and in doing so, I pulled her closer to me too.

"And, in all my life, I have only shared five sentences with my father, every single conversation we had was about the same topic; my grades... I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't even know my name. I heard Clyde was the one that named me, he was the one that turned in my birth certificate, he fed me, put me to sleep, and did everything that a parent is supposed to do. That man raised me, and thanks to him, I am alive today,"

A small smile cracked onto her face as she pecked my lips.

"Clyde is an amazing man," I shrugged at that, not denying it.

"The thing is, Alina... When I was 7-years-old, a man somehow managed to break into the mansion in the dead of the night, and he murdered my parents, I was lucky to have been able to survive,"

Everything spoken from here on out is most likely going to be a lie, but Alina didn't need to know the truth.

"He stabbed my dad once through the heart, killing him, and then I saw him stab my mother, multiple times, all over the place, completely butchering her like some sort of animal, and even after she was dead, he strangled her."