Violet Path by Olivia Lodise Read Free Book Online Page A

pounding out of my chest. His eyes glimmered with anger, but there was a flicker of delight hidden there. I could see my reflection in his eyes. I hated him, and the feeling was obviously mutual.
    He handcuffed my wrists with electric locks and pulled me to my feet. He turned me around, our faces inches from each other.
    “You do as I say, or you won’t be able to do anything at all, not even breathe. You’re my heir, so you train as I desire and you follow the plans I’ve mapped out.” His words slithered into my ears. His hands on my shoulders were like a snake’s fangs injecting venom.
    “Why?” I managed to say, even though I trembled with fear.
    “Because no one lives forever, and I need to know that my successor will finish what I’ve started.”
    “Why me?”
    “Because you can get the job done! Because I chose you! You should be grateful! I’m offering you more than anyone else could ever have.”
    “But I never asked for it.”
    Another blow to the abdomen sparked shivers that ran down my spine as I started to fall to my knees. Matthew lifted me up again and turned me to face the door. He then ordered four soldiers to accompany me to my room. I wasn’t to eat dinner, but I had to attend an extra class until midnight.
    I allowed them to take me back to my room, but I secretly vowed to not stay for long. I refused to remain locked up in a nightmare that was to end with death. I wanted Matthew’s life to end, for all he had done was take others’ lives mercilessly and without the slightest regret. I rejected being forced into becoming a killer, or worse: Matthew’s heir.
    I was going to run away.

Chapter 5
    Over the following year, I secretly stole whatever I needed to survive— food provisions, filter pills, changes of clothes, and knives. I enjoyed taking what belonged to Matthew when he had taken so much from others. I had attended many tiring and painful classes, and passed cold, dark cells filled with helpless, hurt people. Because of my attitude, I had spent some nights in a cell with heavy locks and cold stone floors. It was on the top floor of the prison, isolated and surrounded by white walls with the smell of sterile alcohol smothering the air. Matthew ordered to have my ankles locked to the floor and my wrists locked behind my back. The position made it hard to sleep, but I smiled every moment that Matthew frowned. He personally had to escort me to my classes, which meant I was ruining his plans for the day. I would do anything to trouble him. I had never been asked if I wanted to be his heir, and I refused the position, so until they took that option off the table, I would continue making their lives difficult. After training and seeing what Matthew did to “protect” Tamizeh, I couldn’t possibly support the war. Every day, war prisoners came in bleeding and left in body bags the same day. I was ready to leave.
    One night, I awoke in a thick layer of sweat, shivering from fear. I kept imagining soldiers tearing my limbs off, or worse: I was decimating every village I came across. In my dream, I had murdered a family of five and saw their blood on my hands even after I had opened my eyes. I had held the gun steady with the barrel flush against a young girl’s temple. With teary eyes, she had looked at Matthew’s ring, which had been slipped onto my finger, and I had pulled the trigger without hesitation. Once she had fallen, I had grabbed her brother, held the gun to his head . . .
    My arms and legs were bound, so I just lay still, cold and alone in the dark, and cried for the rest of the night.
    My hate for Matthew grew and started to consume me. One morning, when he had come into my cell, I held out my hands for the cuffs to be taken off, then wiped the grin off his face with a strong punch. One of his soldiers held me at gunpoint to calm me down, and the cuffs had remained on for the rest of the week. Simple tasks became challenging, but giving Matthew a black eye was worth