Black Swan

by London Miller

  A slither of anxiety curled low in Karina’s stomach as she listened. She couldn’t be sure where this story was going exactly, but it didn’t stop her mind from drifting in a dozen different directions.

  With each one proving worse than the one before it.

  “Allison said he was into me and that I should try to talk to him because I’d probably never get another chance.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek as she kept going, her words practically stumbling over each other as she rushed to tell it all before she lost her nerve.

  And the more she heard, the more her sadness turned to anger. She needed to do something with her hands, but even as she curled them into fists and rested them in her lap, it still wasn’t enough.

  She had the urge to commit violence.

  “I t-told him to stop,” she said, turning tear-stained eyes in her direction. “I swear I—”

  “I believe you,” Karina said, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears.

  Kava let out a shuttering breath as if she hadn’t expected that answer, which both baffled and enraged her. “But he wouldn’t stop, not even when I begged him.”

  Karina tried not to let those words filter in too deeply lest she do something she regretted. “And your parents?” she asked before remembering what Kava had said earlier.

  No one has ever listened to my side before.

  “Why do they want you home?” Karina asked, needing to distract herself.

  Kava blinked at the change of subject but relented. “They wanted to avoid the scandal and thought it would be best if I took a sabbatical. At least, that’s what they told everyone.”

  Karina hadn’t thought it was possible to hate people she hadn’t met, but Kava’s parents were certainly at the top of that list now.

  “Do you want to go back?” Karina asked.

  “Absolutely not.” Her answer was immediate.

  “I can’t offer you what Mother does, but I can offer you something I think is a little better.” She waited until Kava was looking at her before she finished. “If you join me, we can say goodbye to them all if you’re so inclined. You only have to agree.”

  Kava looked hopeful. “Does that mean you won’t send me back?”

  “No, I wouldn’t do that even if you declined my offer, but I do think it’s time to have a conversation with your parents.”

  Because as her anger mounted, she was ready to make an example.

  20

  The Story of Kava

  Madness didn’t come on suddenly or all at once.

  It was like an open wound that festered over time. Growing worse with each passing day though the wounded probably thought it was healing.

  Karina didn’t want to think about the changes she’d noticed within herself over the past five years or so. She was still respectable and willing to listen to anyone even if she didn’t particularly like what they had to say.

  She was even agreeable during times when the only thing she had wanted was to argue.

  More often than not, she gave in to the desires of others because it was easier. She rarely made her displeasure known, but no matter how she tried to force her mind off what Kava had shared with her earlier, she continued to become more unsettled.

  Her thoughts weren’t the recluse she had hoped they would be during the meeting with one of her contractors and the overview of the office building she was interested in purchasing.

  And by the time they arrived back at her home, her thoughts were in such turmoil, Karina could do nothing but escape out to the garden where she could be alone.

  The Alexions expected their daughter back this very evening. They didn’t care about her fear in facing the man who’d assaulted her, not when their actions contradicted that.

  And as a show of good faith—to prove, Karina imagined, that they were caring, loving parents—they had asked that both Kava and she come to dinner.

  This time, Karina didn’t reach for her gardening shears or any of her other tools. She merely walked the ground, inhaling the faint floral smell as she passed the abundance of flowers and plants she had slowly brought to life over the past three years.

  Until she reached the belladonna plant.

  With its thick green vines and beautiful flowers—and most importantly, the ripe, black berries at the end that looked as tempting as they were dangerous.

  These very berries were the reason she had come to learn of Uilleam’s existence, even if she did excuse her mother’s meddling.

  They were the very thing that drew her in, wanting to learn the story behind them.

  And as she stared at them, not only contemplating why she had bothered to plant them at all, a dark thought bloomed inside her mind, slowly altering and taking shape into a possibility she had never considered before.

  Because as she brushed her fingers over the deep violet petals, only one question came to mind: What would Uilleam do?

  “If you don’t want to go back, you shouldn’t have to,” Karina said, trying to calm an anxious Kava as they slid into the car.

  She seemed more nervous about going to see her family for the first time in years than the fact that Jackal was coming along with them. Though, to be fair, she still kept her distance from him as well.

  “It’s not that simple,” she replied sadly, her expression rife with agony. “If my father wants me home, then that’s where I have to be. It’s always been about what he wants.”

  “If I so easily gave in to the desires of men, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

  Kava might have nodded, but she didn’t look as sure as she tried to convey. “I don’t know …”

  “Mother spoke with them, didn’t she?” Karina asked. “That’s how you were able to come to London in the first place?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Then I’ll talk with them,” she said, easily.

  From the moment she had walked out of her garden earlier, that had been Karina’s plan … at least part of it.

  The high-rise apartments they arrived at over a half an hour later were beautiful but certainly not as luxurious as others Karina had seen.

  After giving their name—and not blinking an eye when the concierge looked Jackal up and down as if he wanted to flee for his life—they were allowed onto the elevator and upstairs to the apartment where the Alexions were waiting.

  “Do you trust me, Kava?” Karina asked as she rapped her knuckles against the door.

  She chewed her lip, seeming to think that over before she gave a hesitant nod. “You haven’t given me a reason not to.”

  Oh, how those words brought back memories …

  The door opened, Mrs. Alexion standing there in a blue wrap dress that complemented her figure. Her eyes were a touch too wide, and though she smiled, it didn’t reflect on the rest of her face.

  “It’s so very good to see you, Kava.”

  Karina wasn’t so sure the other woman truly meant those words. She didn’t reach out to embrace Kava, nor did she ask a dozen or more questions about where she had been and how she’d been treated.

  It would certainly be Karina’s first reaction if her daughter had been away for a long time and had finally returned home.

  But then again, she wouldn’t have given her daughter a reason to leave in the first place.

  With a wine glass in hand, Mrs. Alexion waved them inside, that expression of faux happiness fading a bit more when she got a better look at Jackal. Her face practically blanched of all color as he walked past her.

  But smart woman that she was, she didn’t say anything about his presence at all.

  Mr. Alexion was waiting at the formal dining table, clutching a glass of something dark in his meaty hand. He had a stern brow and dark eyes, and from what Karina could see of him that wasn’t shielded by the table where he sat, he wore expensive clothes as well.

  At the sight of him, Karina smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Kava has told me so much about you.” Enough that she knew she hat
ed the very sight of them. “I’ve brought my mother’s favorite vintage.”

  She proudly displayed the wine bottle she carried with its slightly worn label. While she had no earthly idea what Katherine’s favorite wine was, that didn’t stop Mrs. Alexion from gladly accepting the bottle with an appreciative smile and bringing it over to the table.

  “Please,” the woman said, though her husband had yet to speak. “Sit.”

  Though Karina and Kava both sat—the latter more reluctantly—Jackal remained standing, practically blending into the shadows with the way he stood so still.

  But instead of sitting, Mrs. Alexion drained the last of her wine before cheerfully calling, “I’ll just grab a bottle opener from the kitchen.”

  There was something … off about their behavior, though Karina couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

  It went beyond the fact that Mr. Alexion had yet to speak a word or that Kava refused to even look in his direction.

  There was something in the air—a secret that neither of them was sharing.

  But before she could consider the possibilities, Karina gasped as her hand was gripped so tightly, she was almost sure Kava had broken her fingers.

  “Kava, what—”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She hardly gave it more than a thought before male laughter brought her gaze up to where two men ventured out of a back hallway.

  One was right around Kava’s father’s age—that she could see from the dusting of gray through the man’s hair and the whiskers on his face—but the other was younger.

  A wide smile covered the boy’s face, his glossed hair neat and brushed into place. Even his nails were manicured.

  But as careful as he was about his appearance, one couldn’t hide who they were in their eyes.

  Karina saw right through that.

  And with anxiety twisting away inside her, she had a feeling she knew exactly who he was.

  Disbelief was a bitter emotion as she watched the boy and his parent enter the room as if they owned it, and everyone else were merely guests in their home.

  A desperate part of her wanted to believe she was wrong—that she was merely thinking the worst of people she didn’t know because surely, these two couldn’t have been invited here.

  As if this man, or rather the prestigious name he bore, was of more importance to Mr. Alexion than his own daughter.

  No one else seemed to notice that Kava had practically turned into a statue in her chair as horror washed over her features.

  Karina remembered all too well the sensations that had coursed through her when she’d been in the same room as Grimm, but she doubted it compared to being in the same room as your rapist.

  “I would love to hear how you thought this would be remotely appropriate.”

  The moment Karina spoke, all attention came to her—including Mr. Alexion’s.

  He cleared his throat as if he hadn’t expected to be addressed. “We weren’t—”

  “Expecting anyone other than your daughter? I can’t imagine how that changes my question.”

  If anything, it made this all worse.

  The boy’s father cleared his throat, his displeasure clear. “I’m not sure who you think you are, but—”

  “Karina Ashworth,” she responded, meeting the man’s gaze. “And when I’m ready to address you, I will.”

  His cheeks grew ruddy, his lips flattening into a harsh line.

  “There’s no need to be unpleasant,” Mr. Alexion said with some disgust as if she were overreacting.

  He didn’t care that Kava was all but trembling beside her. Or that she was so uncomfortable, she couldn’t even bring herself to look up.

  Karina smiled. “I haven’t begun to show you how unpleasant I can be.”

  Silence engulfed the room, no one daring to speak until Mrs. Alexion coughed delicately, appearing with a corkscrew in her hand.

  “Dinner is about ready, so how about we all enjoy a drink of the wine Katherine has given us.”

  Karina checked the smile that started to form on her face.

  Mrs. Alexion made a show of opening the bottle, going around the table that was far too crowded to fill their glasses, but when she reached Kava, Karina rested her hand on top of her glass.

  “Kava isn’t a fan of wine,” Karina said politely, adopting a more friendly tone as her gaze moved over to the boy, Chance, she was pretty sure Kava had said. “You never know what someone might put into it.”

  Unlike his father, there was no outrage in his expression, just a certain displeasure that told her she never wanted to be in a room alone with him.

  Kava, who knew that Karina couldn’t possibly know whether or not that was true, didn’t correct her. Merely passed her a curious glance before she focused back on the plate in front of her.

  Only once Mrs. Alexion had brought the food out and they’d all served themselves did they finally address what Karina had said.

  “It was important we put this to rest as responsible people,” her father said in that stern way that might have intimidated others but had no effect on Karina whatsoever.

  She’d faced far worse men than him. He hardly scratched the surface.

  Had her annoyance ever been this high? Even during the most frustrating of stories, she’d never felt quite like this before. The all-encompassing rage had her hands tightening into fists in her lap even though she made a considerable effort not to let her agitation reflect on her face.

  “And what, exactly, are you hoping to put to rest, Mr. Alexion?”

  She could tell from the way his expression shifted to something a little less compassionate that he wasn’t used to someone questioning him—and from the way both Kava and her mother glanced up at him, he didn’t tend to respond kindly to it.

  What was it with men like him who thought their word was law and their feelings on the matter were the only thing that mattered?

  How had he turned something horrendous against Kava into a slight against himself?

  “What my husband is trying to say,” Mrs. Alexion started, attempting to be the voice of reason.

  But Karina knew better. “Your husband is trying to say his daughter should forget her rape and pretend it never happened because protecting the interests of a privileged brat is more important.”

  Even as Mrs. Alexion paled to a sickly gray color, Mr. Alexion’s face turned to stone.

  But this time, neither attempted to explain themselves before the boy’s father finally spoke up as if she’d spoken some grievous offense. “You can’t talk about my son that way.”

  “Feel free to point me to where anything I said wasn’t a fact.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw, his fingers tightening around the fork in his hand, but when he picked up his wine glass once more, Karina didn’t care.

  The man scoffed, the sound grating on every one of her nerves, because it wasn’t just mocking, it was amused as well. She could even see it in the curve of his mouth as he tipped his glass to his lips.

  If any part of her had thought of just leaving this room with Kava and not looking back, then it died as that sound repeated itself over and over inside her head.

  “Perhaps your mother didn’t tell you who I—”

  “I don’t care,” Karina cut him off as she stood. “I don’t need to know who you are, Mr. Alexion. I know plenty of men just like you because, in the end, there are always men like you. Those who prioritize their position and authority rather than what truly matters most.”

  Men like William Paxton and Gaspard who didn’t value the lives of the women around them.

  Men like Uilleam … who hadn’t cared who he hurt so long as it furthered his end game.

  They would never understand, no matter how she tried to explain it to them.

  Words weren’t enough. They drifted through one ear and out the other. If she wanted them to understand the gravity of what they had done, she would have to show them.

  “Did you know that bellado
nna can be made tasteless if added with the proper ingredients?”

  She watched his face shift as he took that in, refusing to believe. All too quickly, he stared down at the glass in his hand, even as Mr. Alexion quickly spat out his own drink.

  “They’d mix right in with a dessert or … a drink, perhaps.”

  Each of them looked down at the wine glasses in their hands and the dark red of the wine still sitting in them.

  “What have you done?” Mrs. Alexion asked, her voice shaking as she dragged in a heavy breath.

  As if mere breathing might help her get out of the situation she had found herself in.

  “I’d forgotten,” Karina said conversationally, folding her hands on the table in front of her as she regarded them and the rapid panic they were falling into, “that it’s better to understand what the worst people are capable of. At least then, you’ll be better prepared once you see it.”

  For some, she didn’t need to try to see the good in them at all—not when they were very much pleased with the awful things they did.

  But for most, she tried to imagine the world wasn’t a completely dark place—that some in the world cared about those beside them and didn’t use them as pawns in games they never knew they were playing.

  Why was it so difficult for people to see that that was wrong?

  But if there was a lesson to be taught here, Karina didn’t mind very much that she would have to be the one to teach it.

  “Don’t worry,” she told them as their panic grew, “belladonna is a slow-acting poison. It breaks you down first, and the more you ingest, the more painful it will be. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

  Because when she’d called the house on Ivory Lane her new home, she hadn’t just been tending to the poppy flowers that grew in her garden.

  There was the other side as well—one that Isla chose to ignore when she came over. As she’d said, she’d much rather look at the pretty flowers than their darker counterparts.