Welcome to Hell
Chapter 211
He pulls back, cupping my cheeks as if I were still a child.
“How are you, son? Are you eating well? No one has hurt you, have
they?” His gaze is worried, almost too paternal for my liking.
I sigh and pull away from his hands, forcing a smile.
“I’m fine, Dad. No one has done anything to me.” I lift my chin,
maintaining the forced grin. “But… how did you get here so fast? I
thought you were coming tomorrow. And I didn’t even know you’d be
here too.”
He shifts his weight, adjusts his suit, and gives a small smile before
looking at the man beside him.
“This is my friend, Arthur Cooper.” His voice carries a tone of pride.
“Arthur, this is my beloved son.”
This Arthur guy approaches with a friendly smile. He must be around
forty–five, maybe a little older.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet my friend’s son.” He extends his hand.
“Your father is always talking about you, Adrian.”
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I force a huge smile, shaking his hand firmly.
“The pleasure is mine, Arthur. Dad talked quite a bit about you, too.”
I catch a glimpse of my father’s eyes tearing up because I called him
“Dad.”
Oh, what a fucking idiot.
He actually believes this gesture signifies affection.
I let go of Arthur’s hand and turn my gaze back to my father.
“Did you invite your friend to come visit me too, Dad?” I ask in a light,
almost playful tone.
Arthur laughs, and the sound irritates me so much I have to struggle
to stay in character.
“You have no idea, kid.” Still laughing, he speaks with amusement.
“Your father practically begged me to come along. He said he needed
to deliver a gift to you and insisted so much that I finally gave in.
Besides, I confess I was curious to meet his son.”
I flash a polite, rehearsed smile.
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“That is very kind of you, Mr. Cooper.”
He lets out a loud laugh and pats my shoulder–a touch that makes
me want to break his hand.
“Now, there’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ young man. I’m your father’s
friend; there’s no need to be so formal. You can call me Uncle Arthur.”
I force a smile, controlling the revulsion rising through my body.
“Of course, Uncle Arthur,” I say with a voice that is sweet but cold.
The warden clears his throat, trying to cut through the tension
hanging in the room.
“How about we go somewhere more comfortable? There’s a more
spacious room next door where you can talk better.”
“Of course, that would be perfect,” my father agrees with an
exaggerated smile, stepping closer to me. “Let’s go, son.”
I take a step back and raise my hand.
“You guys go ahead,” I say naturally. “I just need to stop by my cell
and grab something. I’ll meet you there.”
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I look back at David, who is standing by the door, and smile.
“The guard can accompany me.”
My father seems satisfied; he places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and
nods.
“Excellent, son. We’ll wait for you there. Come on, Arthur.”
The two of them walk out, chatting away as if they were on any
ordinary friendly visit.
As soon as they disappear into the hallway, the smile on my face
transforms.
Calm gives way to anxiety–the kind that burns from within.
The gift.
The gift for my god.
I feel my chest thumping hard, blood pulsing in my temples as I walk
fast back to my cell. The sound of my footsteps echoes against the
walls like a familiar melody.
I am so anxious to see my king’s reaction… to see the spark in his
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eyes when he discovers what I’ve prepared for him.
Yes.
My Magnus is going to love what’s coming.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
