Chapter 127: ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN

Nicholas’s POV

By the time I woke up, Blackthorne was still standing in front of me.

The gun was already raised, the barrel aimed directly at my head.

For a moment, I didn’t move. My head was still heavy from being knocked unconscious, and the room came back to me in bits.

Fuck, I was still here.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. Definitely not for him to have hit me in the head with the barrel of his gun. Even now waking up, I clearly hadn’t expected this —Blackthorne waiting patiently for me to regain consciousness. He had clearly been waiting for this exact moment because the moment my eyes focused on him, he spoke.

"You took longer than I expected. I was beginning to wonder whether I had hit you harder than I intended, but you’re awake now, which is all that matters. I’ve been standing here waiting for you because I wanted you conscious when I finished this. I don’t have any reason to keep you alive anymore, Nicholas, and after everything you’ve done, I have even less reason to listen to whatever excuse you’re planning to give me."

I looked at the gun, then at him. My body was still aching, but I forced myself to sit as straight as the restraints allowed. I could see it clearly now. He wasn’t bluffing. There was no hesitation in the way he held the weapon, and there was nothing in his expression that suggested he wanted me to beg so he could feel powerful. He genuinely intended to kill me. That meant I couldn’t waste whatever time I had left. "Then why are you still standing there?"

Blackthorne’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t lower the gun. "Because I wanted to hear what you would say when you finally understood that nobody was coming to save you. You’ve always had someone around you to protect you. Your mother, my sons, your father before that. You’ve spent your entire life depending on other people, and now you’re sitting here without any of them. I thought perhaps you’d finally understand how helpless you actually are."

I kept my face neutral even though my heart was pounding. "You seem very interested in whether I’m helpless."

He smirked. "I’m interested in knowing whether you finally understand your situation."

My words were a bit slurred. "My situation is that you kidnapped me because you couldn’t deal with me while I was free."

He gave a small, humorless smile. "You still have enough arrogance left to talk like that."

"I’m trying to understand something."

"Humor me." He shrugged.

"I want to know why you bothered keeping me around for so long if you hated me that much. You could have gotten rid of me before any of this happened. Instead, you kept me in your house, pretended to care about me and acted like you were part of my family. You knew exactly what I was, you knew exactly how you felt about Omegas, and you still kept me close. You even fucked me. Why?"

Blackthorne didn’t answer immediately. He lowered the gun just enough to rest his arm more comfortably, though he never stopped aiming it in my direction. "Because you were useful. And besides, that’s what Omegas are for. Just warm hole for my cock. I had no reason to waste an opportunity simply because I disliked what you were. You were supposed to remain quiet, follow instructions and eventually disappear when you were no longer useful. You made the mistake of becoming difficult."

I stared at him. "So that’s all I was to you."

"Yes. You were easy." The answer came so casually that it hurt more than I expected, but I didn’t let it show. I needed to keep him talking, not give him the satisfaction of watching me break.

"And you really thought that was how it would be forever?"

"I thought you would stay the person you had always been. The person who apologized whenever someone raised their voice, the person who blamed himself for things other people did to him, the person who believed being an Omega meant he had to accept whatever was handed to him. You changed. That’s why you’re sitting here."

I swallowed and looked at the floor for a moment before looking back at him. "You hated that I changed."

"You became very inconvenient. Even the sex couldn’t save you." He stepped closer, and I noticed the gun remained steady in his hand.

I couldn’t afford to lose his attention, but I also couldn’t keep provoking him until he decided the conversation was over. I needed something that would keep him talking without making him feel as though he was losing control.

So I turned the conversation toward his son’s. "You know they’re not going to leave me here."

Blackthorne’s expression barely changed. "My sons are capable of making their own decisions."

"They love me." I reminded him.

"They’re attached to you. Don’t you know the difference?"

I frowned.

He continued calmly, "There is a difference between attachment and good judgment. Whatever they feel for you doesn’t make them capable of protecting you from every consequence. They won’t always be there to pull you out of whatever trouble you create."

"They’ll come."

He threw his head back with a laugh. "If they discover where you are, they may."

His calm answer caught me off guard.. He wasn’t frightened of them. No, he wasn’t even particularly concerned.

That made me realize I had to stop expecting him to react like a father who cared about what his sons thought. Whatever relationship existed between them, it wasn’t going to make him hesitate over me.

I tried another angle. "They know what you’ve done."

Blackthorne shrugged. "Then they know."

I frowned"You don’t care?"

"I care about what my sons choose to do with their lives. I don’t have to agree with every decision they make." He looked at me for a moment before adding, "And if they decide to come after me because of you, then they can make that decision themselves."

I stared at him, trying to figure out what would make him lose that composure.

Then I remembered the one subject that had already gotten a strong reaction from him. "My father."

Blackthorne’s eyes changed. It was brief, but I saw it.

I continued carefully. "You don’t like to talk much of him. You got pissed."

His expression hardened. "I already told you what I think of that man."

Blackthorne’s jaw tightened, but he remained where he was.

I kept my voice measured. "My mother spent years believing he died protecting us. She believed you were the man who helped her through it. She trusted you while you knew exactly what happened to him."

"Don’t bring her into this." He hissed.

"Why not? She deserves to know."

Blackthorne’s eyes remained fixed on me.

My voice was a growl. "She deserves to know that the man she married was standing beside her while knowing the truth about her husband’s death."

He turned away.

That was the opening I needed.

I didn’t move immediately. I kept talking, forcing him to remain distracted. "Did you ever think about what she would do if she found out?"

He didn’t answer.

"Did you think she’d forgive you?" I asked.

Still nothing.

I carefully pulled against the restraint around my wrist and it shifted.

My pulse jumped. Holy shit. I pulled again, slowly enough not to make the movement obvious. The restraint had loosened more than I realized while I had been struggling earlier.

Blackthorne suddenly spat blood onto the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

I moved without thinking. I twisted my wrist hard, pulled my hand free and immediately reached for the other restraint. It came loose before Blackthorne turned around.

His head snapped toward me as I lunged forward. My hand closed around the gun before he could react, and I tore it from his grip. Blackthorne stepped back, clearly caught off guard for the first time since I had woken up.

I stood, keeping the gun trained directly on him. "Don’t move."

Blackthorne stopped.

I was breathing heavily, my legs unsteady beneath me, but I didn’t lower the weapon. I had no idea how long I could stay standing, and I didn’t know whether there were other people somewhere in the building, but at least I wasn’t tied to that chair anymore.

"You made one mistake," I said, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. "You thought because I was tied up, I wasn’t thinking. I knew you wanted to kill me. That’s why I kept talking. I needed you distracted long enough to get one chance, and you gave it to me."

Blackthorne slowly raised both hands and I tightened my grip around the gun.. "I’m not stupid. I came here knowing I couldn’t fight you directly, so I waited until you gave me an opening. Now you’re the one standing there without a weapon."

For several seconds, Blackthorne simply looked at me. Then he laughed.

I frowned. What the hell was funny?

His laughter grew louder, and there was something so strange about it that I felt my confidence falter for a moment. He wasn’t panicking.

He was amused.

Blackthorne looked at the weapon in my hand before raising his eyes to mine again.. "You actually think you’re smart."

I kept the gun pointed at him and he lowered his hands slightly, still smiling. "You thought you were clever because you managed to get yourself out of a chair."

That made me scowl. "What are you talking about?"

His smile widened. "Nicholas, you’re extremely stupid."