Caesar sneered.
"Oh, nothing." He chuckled.
Dimitri was trembling a bit against his will.
The real thing troubling him right now was that this man was alive. They'd thought he'd died in that accident. For a whole week and a few days now, he had made no appearance, and even the spies his father sent confirmed he was no more.
So how the fuck was he right in front of him, alive and much better? It almost felt like he was gazing at a ghost. Or…was it a ghost? And he was the only one who could see him? Was Caesar's ghost hunting him?
But why him? His father was the one who instigated the accident. If he wanted to haunt someone, his father was the right person to do such a thing to. Why him?
His question was answered soon enough.
Caesar, who'd leaned in, had whispered, "That neck of yours will be slit open soon enough. You will look even better that way, on full display for your father, completely covered in blood and headless. Almost…like a sculpture."
