Shattered Rose He Held On Tight novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22 The Reaper’s Rosebud

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In the dim light, a tall man lounged back in a chair, his sharp brow casting shadows across finely cut features. Long, pale fingers toyed idly with a knife, the blade catching brief flashes of cold light.

“I hear you’ve been gathering old allies, pulling in heavy foreign funding. So all that playing dead was just to prepare for this moment, hm? Still sharp for an old man.”

Henry was already broken, his face streaked with tears and snot. He had thought Charles’s army of killers would surely finish Sterling. Dozens of top–ranked assassins–and Sterling had survived.

Now Charles’s base was in ashes, his pawns inside Romero Corp uprooted. The pride Henry had strutted around with these past weeks looked like a sick joke.

Sterling’s methods were far more terrifying than Henry had ever imagined. Sitting before him, his nephew looked like a demon risen from the depths.

“Sterling, I’m your uncle. If you kill me, your grandfather won’t let you go.”

“Kill you?” Sterling snorted, amused. “You’re mistaken. I won’t kill you. But a man answers for his deeds. Tonight, I’m just inviting you to watch a show.”

Henry’s eyes widened in horror as he glanced at his bound son. “What are you going to do?”

“Seems your boy has been busy. Slept with another man’s fiancée a month ago, had her fiancé storming into your house. Then, just two weeks back, he and his friends toyed with an underage girl. You swept it all away in the Romero name. Such rotten genes shouldn’t be passed down. Don’t you think?”

“No!” Henry’s voice cracked, desperation flooding his eyes. “Don’t hurt him, please! Spare Tyson!”

He had sown wild oats all his life, but Tyson was his only true heir. For all his sins, he had loved his son.

Sterling lifted a hand. Masked men with medical tools approached the boy.

Tyson thrashed in his chair, blindfolded, voice high with terror. “Stay away! Don’t touch me!”

The snap of bone split the air. His scream tore through the basement.

“Sterling, I’ll kill you!” Henry roared, eyes bulging, veins standing out as his son slumped

unconscious.

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Chapter 22 The Reaper’s Rosebud

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“Finished,” Sterling said coolly.

Henry’s hatred blazed. His voice cracked into madness. “You bastard! This is revenge, isn’t it? Hah! I’ll tell you the truth–your mother was a whore, a slut. And you, her freak child. You’ve always been Romero’s curse. You’ll never be loved. People will always fear you, despise you!”

Sterling dug at his ear with a finger, unmoved. “Ugly words. Cut out his tongue.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sterling, you wouldn’t-”

The shriek was cut off.

Father and son collapsed, unconscious.

They would live–but beg for death.

The air stank of blood, the heavy silence pressing in. Sterling stood, tall and immovable, a figure fused with the basement’s darkness.

Then, on a table nearby, his phone lit up.

His men, who had just watched him maim kin without blinking, froze as he glanced at the screen. The man who a moment ago had looked like Death itself now smiled–warm, almost tender.

Typing quickly, Sterling stripped off his black gloves and tossed them aside. “Clean this up. I’m leaving.”

“Sir–there’s a conference with the East European partners scheduled-” Clint reminded nervously.

“Reschedule.” Sterling didn’t even slow.

“…” Clint sighed. Their boss had grown steadily more unreliable lately.

David entered just as Sterling disappeared through the door. “What’s the rush? Doesn’t he have business to finish?”

Clint gave him a look that said everything and nothing. “He said he’s going home… to water his Rosebud.”

David choked. The Reaper, tending flowers? The sun must be rising in the west.

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9:42 Tue, Oct 7

Chapter 22 The Reaper’s Rosebud

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