The Four Horsemen : A Servite Academy For Troubled Teens Novel

by Bellamy Roswell

  “Of course, you’re beautiful, my dear,” Carlisle says, looking to me.

  His wife however is still looking at me with scrunched brows and a fake, thanks to all the Botox, smile on her face.

  “I am Carlisle Prescott, and this is my wife Priscilla.”

  And then the reason for their insolence suddenly dawns on me. These are Carrington’s parents. Of course they’d be upset to find out Ace, their daughter’s one and only obsession, has a girlfriend who is not their daughter.

  We take a seat as three women dressed in French maid uniforms begin to serve us our plates. I look up from my spot at the table and see the empty seat in front of me. I turn to Ace questioning, and he scowls at me shaking his head as if he knows what I’m thinking. I raise a brow to him, and he grunts lowering his face to the plate placed in front of him. I scoff and turn toward Agent Servite.

  “Agent Servite,” I say, causing the murmuring around us to stop as everyone’s focus is now on me. “Are we still expecting someone? I think it’s rude to begin eating if not everyone has arrived.”

  “You are absolutely right, my dear, where are our manners? My guest should be arriving any minute now.”

  “What is it with all the mystery tonight, Wes?” asks Malcolm Smoak.

  “Well, my dear Malcolm, you do know I like to play a game or two. And tonight, we’re in for a treat.” He stands turning to me. “Tonight’s game is more of a mystery. A murder mystery. A mystery that will be solved by the time we all leave here tonight.”

  Everyone looks around at his words murmuring quietly to each other.

  “Who killed Silas Smoak?” he blurts out, and at his question Malcolm pushes back against his chair standing furiously.

  “Is this some kind of joke to you, Wesley? You mentioned you never found my father’s murderer. That they were just some lowlife addicts, a robbery gone wrong.”

  I turn to Agent Servite and he winks at me, a slow grin appearing on his face as he faces a very irate Malcolm.

  “Oh, I’ve known all along who murdered your father, my dear Malcolm. And they’ve been under our nose all along.” He looks to me and I feel Ace’s hand on my thigh squeezing tight. I turn to him and he looks at me, a silent warning to keep quiet on his face.

  “Stop with the riddles and games, Wesley. Do you or do you not know who murdered Silas?” asks Stephan Silver.

  And at the mention of his name my body begins to shake uncontrollably as I look to Agent Servite for confirmation of my earlier suspicion.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my second guest of honor, the beautiful, difficult to hunt down, nearly impossible to find, Lilith Steele.”

  A woman wearing a dress made from the most delicate of black silk emerges from the mansion. Her dark hair perfectly combed and cut into a blunt bob right above her shoulders, clear blue eyes glimmering in the moonlight, and her face beautifully painted with makeup. She looks nothing like the woman I last saw three years ago. Nothing like the woman who abandoned me and ran off. Nothing like my mother. I stand as she emerges to her seat at the table directly in front of me. A sly smirk on her face as she looks me over. I feel Ace’s grip on my waist trying to steady me and her eyes travel to where his hand sits on my body. Her smirk widens, and a light chuckle escapes her.

  “Hello, daughter,” she says, and my breathing falters. My heart pounds so fiercely in my chest I can feel it in my temples. My vision blurs and my skin feels oddly cold, an electrifying shock radiating through me. My mother, here in front of me, at this table filled with these powerful and corrupt individuals. The worst thing is she looks like she fits in, like she’s one of them.

  The memories of her beating me and screaming at me day in and day out for any little thing. Her taking off and never coming back for me. The last few months I lived terrified of making one wrong move and costing those around me, my real family, their future. Everything is too much, and I can’t take it anymore. I turn away from Ace pulling to get away from him but his grip on me tightens. I push and claw at him, screaming to let me go but he doesn’t listen. I suddenly feel sick and dizzy as I look up to Ace, his face blurred, and my body grows numb. Everyone at the table is looking at me as if I’m the one in the wrong, the one who is overreacting. I feel a tear fall on my cheek, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction. It’s the first tear I’ve shed in years. I look to Ace who is watching me solemnly. Dark blue dilated irises, the color of the ocean at dawn. That’s the last thing I see before my eyes give out.

  “Hush little angel don’t you cry, momma’s gonna sing you a lullaby. Sweet little baby don’t say a word, momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.”

  My body feels sick, weak, broken. My mind is numb, empty, and dark. Memories of her singing me to sleep when I was just a little girl, memories of a better time. I wonder sometimes if they’re even real or just my body’s way of fighting back against the abuse it endured. They say when you undergo patronizing trauma your mind plays tricks on you, creating calming scenarios that never occurred, our bodies’ own coping mechanism. At times like this I believe it was all a figment of my imagination. She never genuinely loved me. She would leave me alone all day with the neighbor, supposedly to work all day and night, but why was it necessary if it was just the two of us. Then once Chaz, Jade and Roman moved in, the working stopped and we still managed to have a roof over our heads, and food on the table.

  “Hush little angel don’t you cry, momma’s gonna sing you a lullaby. Sweet little baby don’t say a word, momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.”

  I sometimes wonder if it’s even her voice I remember singing to me, or someone else entirely.

  I awaken dripping in sweat, startled by the dream I was having and find myself lying on a large bed in a dimly lit room. The walls around me are a dark red, with black curtains. Two large doors are flung open by the wind, leading to a small balcony overlooking the yard of Servite Manor. I suddenly remember where I am and what happened just before I awoke here. My mother. Lilith Steele standing before me, looking like a completely different person. I walk over to the door of the bedroom and find it locked as I try to wiggle the doorknob free. I move over to the balcony and hear voices coming from outside. I quietly step out trying not to make a sound as to inform them I am awake. I look down and find the men still here have moved to the grass area beside the pool. I can barely hear them, so I step a little closer nearly leaning against the railing. I see everyone except for the Horsemen standing in front of me.

  “You murdered him!” yells Malcolm as he steps toward Lilith, crowding her.

  She reaches up, slapping him across the face.

  “You mind your tone with me, Smoak,” she shouts, Agent Servite stepping toward her.

  “Now, now, Lilith, no need to get violent. Just tell him, tell them what you told me,” he says.

  “I was there that night, the night that Silas was robbed and murdered, but I wasn’t the one to do it. I had been informed by a colleague that Silas was selling information about The Gallows to the mayor of Providence. He had a black book of all the clients and was using it to fund his reelection campaign. He knew that the Servites and the Silvers were hoping to get him to step down in order for you to assume his place, but being the arrogant bastard that he was, he refused to step down. So, he needed a little push.”

  “So, you admit it. You killed him,” Malcolm says.

  “I’m not finished, Malcolm, and don’t you dare interrupt me again. I was there to scare him. We faked a robbery. We were going to find some information we could use as blackmail to get him to resign, but my partner felt we needed to take more drastic measures to ensure the concealment of the ledger remain secret. It was then that he shot Silas in the head once, then twice for good measure.”

  “And who was it that shot him? Who was this partner of yours?” asks Stephan Silver.

  “Chandler Wolfe,” she says.

  My heart falls as I see two men carrying a beaten and bloody C
haz, throwing him on the ground in front of the group.

  “This is the man who killed my father?” asks Malcolm furiously.

  “Yes, this is him,” answers Agent Servite.

  “And how do we know she is telling the truth?” asks Stephan.

  “You dare question me?!” yells my mother.

  “No need to get ecstatic, Lilith. He confessed willingly. Well, after a few blows,” says Agent Servite laughingly and bile rises to my throat.

  “And why is it you so willingly gave him up? Were you not in a relationship with him?” asks Headmaster Servite.

  “He was a means to an end, he meant nothing to me,” she sneers, and her admission makes me sick. A means to an end. That’s exactly what I said about Ace. I knew we were one in the same.

  “What are we going to do now?” asks Stephan.

  “You all will retreat to your homes as if tonight never happened. We had a small intimate dinner to celebrate my nephew’s new relationship and everyone went on their merry way. I’ll handle the rest,” says Agent Servite.

  “And the girl?” asks Malcolm, turning to Servite.

  “She’s mine to handle.”

  At his order, Headmaster Servite, Malcolm Smoak, and Stephan Silver retreat to the house but not before Stephan turns to my mother.

  “It’s good to see you again, Lilith,” he says with a grin. “I must say though, as beautiful as you still are, that daughter of yours is a work of art. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  She scoffs and glares at him, and he retreats laughing.

  My body is frozen looking down at the scene in front of me. My mother standing beside Agent Servite with Chaz bloody and beaten kneeling in front of them. I suddenly see Ace emerge from the pool house with another man dressed in black, wearing a red hooded cloak. I can’t see his face but notice it’s painted like a skeleton, the same way Ace and the Horsemen had theirs painted the night of the Saints and Sinners party. Maybe it’s one of the other three.

  They walk over to where the others stand and for a moment everyone is silent. I see Ace raise his arm out, and I squint my eyes to see what he’s holding in his hand. A gun. He’s pointing a gun straight at Chaz’s head. Right as I try to react to what is happening in front of me, I hear a loud bang as Chaz’s lifeless body falls to the ground right before my eyes.

  I scream louder than I’ve ever screamed before and suddenly all eyes turn to me. Tears spilling out of my eyes with no end in sight. Ace’s face looks mortified as he sees me watching them. Agent Servite and Lilith grin widely at me and the fourth figure’s face remains impassive. I scream again as large, strong arms wrap around me holding me tightly as I kick and scream, trying to squirm free. I hear Bass and Beck arguing about how they need to keep me quiet.

  “It will be all over soon sweet angel. Your eyes to pure to see the evil that lies before us.” Bass whisper’s in my ear.

  Suddenly, Alek comes to stand in front of me grasping something in his hand.

  “Sorry, love, it will only sting a little,” he says with a wide grin before piercing my arm with something sharp. A sudden cold sensation emanates through me as my body weakens and my vision gives out. That’s the last thing I remember before it all goes dark.

  EPILOGUE

  Over the course of my first three months at Servite Academy I know one thing is certain. The devil is real. I’ve seen him. He’s as real as real can be. Flesh and blood, yet untouchable. He walks among us, a king amongst his disciples. And he’s not at all what you’d expect. He’s not a crimson god, nor does he have crooked horns, and least of all a piercing tail. He’s a beautiful, charming, alluring, and magnetic creature. Everything you’d ever dream of, just out of reach. Because he was once God’s favorite child. And he will always have been first, a fallen angel.

  No, this devil among us is tall, blond, eyes a stormy, ocean blue. Like the sky on a cloudy day right before the storm is about to ravage the earth. Like the ocean, it’s ravaged leaving uncontrollable waves in its wake. He’s tattooed and dangerous. A king in his own right, but the prince of darkness, nonetheless. He’s the embodiment of chaos, power, and destruction. Capable of showing you immense pleasure as he drives you into madness with nothing but the calloused touch of his palms.

  But you see, I have an advantage. One thing he isn’t aware of. Deep down, under the corrupted, tainted, and corroded parts, I am still an angel. I am both hellfire and holy water. Little does he know he trained me for this. I walked through the steeled gates of hell, and although I might have dented my halo and torn off my wings, I survived. The fire deep within my rotten core burned brighter than his flames that swore to consume me. I played with fire and it felt good; besides, no one, not even he’d expect an angel to set his world on fire.

  You’ve seen me descend to the deepest, darkest depths of hell’s inferno, now watch me rise. The holy ground will burn at my feet.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  F***!!! Ahh I did it! I can’t believe I actually finished this story. Well the first part of course. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, a whirlwind of thoughts and attitudes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way! I’m so excited to share this wicked, sinful, and delicious world with you all and hope you love it and these characters as much as I do.

  I’m Bellamy Roswell, (a pen name I created to share my stories) and I’m here to bring you bad boy heartthrobs oozing sex appeal, passion, and angst one novel at a time. I became an avid romance novel reader a few years ago and have devoured hundreds of novels by incredibly talented authors who have inspired me to pursue what I love, creating stories full of love, passion, and angst. I have always had a creative side and found myself writing countless tales over this long 2020 quarantine period. Getting lost in my stories and characters’ minds provided me with a safe haven during this uncertain time. As I prepared to self-publish my first novel from my first series, I was so anxious and nervous and changed my mind countless times. But I’m so glad I followed through. I hope to publish the second novel of this series in the Spring of 2021 and continue so forth on this journey. I hope you enjoyed your time here as I look forward to sharing more of my stories with you soon!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I wouldn’t have been able to do this without the help of my amazing beta readers!! Geissa, Leeann, Morgan, Mary-Elizabeth, Mary, Sarah, Emelie, & Kylea!! You are all incredible. Your support, feedback, and ideas helped shape this story into what it has become. I admire you all and can’t wait to work with you all again. You inspire me with your love of books and visions for these characters. You helped them come to life and I am forever grateful.

  A special thanks to Geissa. You are my girl!! You were an amazing beta reader, cover enthusiast, and just my go to girl I could throw ideas back and forth with. I am so thankful for all your advice and help, making this story what it is.

  To the amazing Sarah Plocher my proofreader and editor! You are truly the best there is. I am fortunate to have worked with you and hope to continue to do so if you’ll have me.

  To my cover designer Shashika, thank you for bringing all my ideas together and giving them life.

  And finally to you readers for taking a chance on me as a new author. It is a scary world out there, but you all make it worth the ride. I hope you enjoyed the story.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bellamy Roswell is a coffee connoisseur, avid reader and aspiring New Adult Dark Romance author who is a lover of angsty, passionate bad boys, and sassy, fierce heroines. After devouring countless stories from various amazing author's, she decided to create her own tales and lose herself in the pages of her stories.

  Avid Reader. Aspiring Storyteller. A head between the pages kind of girl.

  Welcome to my world, hope you enjoy your stay.

  STAY CONNECTED

  Follow me on my socials to stay up to date on upcoming projects and release dates.

  Email: Bellamyroswell@gmail.com

>   Amazon: www.amazon.com/~/e/B08M8P7GFG

  Website: www.Bellamyroswellauthor.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/bellamyroswellauthor

  Instagram: www.instagram.com/bellamyroswellauthor

  Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/eir1nmy8amovp7c0wyv6sbs1y

  Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/bellamyroswell/the-four-horsemen

  Now a sneak peek from Book 2 Coming Spring 2021

  THE HOLY TRINITY SNEEK PEAK

  ACE

  She saw me, I know she did. She saw me pull the gun out from the holster around my waist and point it directly at the head of Chandler Wolfe. She saw how his head flew back from the intensity of the blow, as his lifeless body fell before my feet. Before our feet. There I stood beside the devil, my uncle, and the mistress of hell, her mother. I stood beside two heinous monsters, and in her eyes became one. She knew I was a sinner. That I was corrupt and wicked. Tainted and malicious. It doesn’t matter that the bullet never came out of the barrel of my gun. That’s what she saw.

  And it was then, as the violent cries erupted from deep within her, from the innermost part of her heavenly soul, that I knew I had lost her. An angel once fell from the highest peak of the heavens, only to burn in the harshest depths of hell’s inferno. But she will rise from within the flames we’ve cast her in. She will be my salvation, even if I must turn against everything and everyone I’ve ever known.

  My angel, my goddess. I will watch you rise, even if it’s me who burns.