"Where is he?" My father glanced at his watch, irritation creasing the lines in his forehead. He looked around the empty restaurant and I blew out an annoyed breath. I was supposed to wait for him downstairs but in my act of defiance, I went on without him. Served him right for kicking me out of my own room. I regretted not putting up a harder right, but I wasn't sure if I really wanted to piss him off like that.

"You know punctuality isn't his strong suit, father," I said, flipping through the menu.

"Well, it's rude and disrespectful. It's like he doesn't care-"

"He doesn't care," I emphasized.

"Hi, are you ready to order?" The light blue woman asked us again, making me roll my eyes.

"We weren't ready five minutes ago...Sheryl," I read her name tag. "...and we're not ready now. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am." She nodded before scurrying away.

"Ugh! I can't stand these people," I mumbled.

"Well you ought to be kinder to them, Xyla," he said. "To be a true ruler, you must learn how to hold your tongue when you want to speak the most."

"Well, if I'm getting bad service you bet your ass I'm going to speak up." I moved a wave strand of hair out of my face.

He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why I didn't somehow choose Queen to be our half of the treaty."

My jaw clenched and my eyes shot lasers at the menu. "Because she wouldn't have followed through with your plans. That's why," I hissed lowly. "You may think she's better at talking to people, but I'm the one more equipped to rule. You and I both know she'd busy herself with trying to make the...peasants," I whispered. "...happy. We don't need that. Especially when they're contributing nothing to our society."

"Everyone contributes something, Xyla," he said, rubbing his temples. "It may not always be monetary, but I guarantee you that you can't do half the things they can. I've spoiled you and that's my fault."

"Oh, boo-hoo." I rolled my eyes. "Even if I knew how to do everything, you'd still look at me as a failure."

"I just want you to be more considerate, Xyla," he said. "We raised you in the eyes of the Lord for the better half of your life. I still wonder how you turned out like this."

"Take a long look in the mirror, daddy." I scoffed. "If you don't see me staring back at you, then I'll be nicer." I filled the wine glass to the brim again and frowned as droplets began to pour in, indicating that I had finished the entire thing.

"Don't you think you should slow down?" my father asked as I brought the glass to my lips.

"You know what, father?" I started, taking a long sip of the chilled drink. "I love myself."

"Okay, I-"

"Even if nobody else does, I do." I gulped. "I don't mind being the bitch of the family. You know why?"

"Xyla-"

"Because if I don't do it, who will?" I whispered, raising a brow. "You should all be praising me for being the bitch that gets this family some respect. God knows if I left you all to do it, we'd be living how we used to live-"

"Enough!" He snapped through gritted teeth.

"...amongst the scum of the Earth," I finished. "Be grateful that your righteous mind gave you the ability--the knowledge, to make me the bitch that rules over this dump."

"Watch your tongue," he snarled, sending a smile to the nearby staff.

"Tell Queen to be fucking grateful for me too," I continued. "I spend my life giving her a damn backbone and she tells me off like everything is my fault?! Why is it always my fault?!" I screamed. "Xyla did this, Xyla did that-fuck everybody for not owning up to their own shit! Let there be an earthquake on Earth right now and someone would say Oh! There goes Xyla again, stomping her fat ASS all over the border of the realms!"

My father ran a hand down his face. "Are you done?"

"No, I'm not done! I am not responsible for every shitty thing happening to Queen! The mess she gets herself in is not my fault. I can't control the situations she gets herself into and I don't care! Am I allowed to not care? I am grateful to me for being such a bitch that she never comes to me anymore."

"Xyla, I hear you." He looked around. "The entire room hears you-

"I deserve the fucking world," I whispered, my eyes watering, "and it's all going to pay off in the end. I have to be the bitch because mom, Queen, and you don't have the balls to do it your-" My father's hand connected with my cheek in a hard slap catching me along with the staff off guard.

Shock was the first thing to riddle my body as I stared off to the floor. My father hadn't laid a hand on us since we were children. I didn't think he still had it in him. My eyes closed, letting the anger ride off as I took a calming breath of air.

I sucked in another breath, ignoring the pain as I moved my hair back into place and plastered a grin on my face. My smile seemed to relax the staff on the floor and I tilted my head, looking back at my father who seemed disappointed he couldn't hold himself back. "See how quickly I can go back to being perfect for the sake of this family? That's why you need me." I took a deep breath. "Pfft, you slap me across the face and wonder how I ended up like this."

"There will be time for your ludicrous rants in private, Xyla," he said lowly. "Get it together."

"They're inside, Mr. SinClaire," I heard someone in the distance say. I looked behind my father to see Syn walk towards us, and I scooted my chair over. He took the seat beside me and I closed my eyes, catching a whiff of his cologne.

You've finally made it," my father muttered. "How is it that you call a meeting yet you show up an hour late?"

"I got held up with something more important," he replied, glancing down at me. To my father, it may have looked like a gesture of Syn finally accepting me as his soon to be wife in some way, but Syn's eyes told me the truth. He was pissed at me. I rolled my eyes, expecting nothing else from anyone in the world, and took a sip of my drink.

"Y-you were doing something for Xyla?" My father asked, confused at the way Syn looked down at me.

"Something like that." He relaxed into the seat. "Where is your wife?"

"She's fallen ill," my father lied. "She sends her apologies about not being able to make it."

"No apologies necessary, I won't take long," Syn said, raising his hand to signal the waitress. "I know you're a busy man, Jonathan."

"That I am."

"Hi, what can I get for you?" The blue fairy annoying me the entire night asked as she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her pointy ear. "We have specials if you'd-"

"We don't need the specials," I said. "Get me the kale Caesar salad. Also another bottle of these." I pointed to the bottle of wine.

She quickly wrote everything down before turning to my father and getting his disgusting order of some gigantic and bloody steak. Ugh! I gagged just thinking about seeing it come out. She finally turned to Syn, her hands trembling slightly as he looked at her. "A-and you sir?"

"I'll just take a whiskey for now. Do you serve wings here?"

"Yes-ss, we do." She gave him a nervous smile. "What flavor and how many?"

"I'll take a little bit of them all and...surprise me." He shrugged. "I'll be taking that to go."

"What dipping sauce?"

"Again, surprise me."

"I-I'll have your orders out in a few. Let me know if there is anything el-"

"The bottle. Now." I dangled the one on the table in the air and she nodded quickly, returning to the back and leaving us.

"Do you all at least try to behave like angels?"

My father furrowed his thick brows. "What do you mean?"

"You guys have never thought about taking How To Be An Angel 101 or even acting gigs to do a better job?" My eyes snapped to my father, fear slowly creeping into my body. What is he talking about? "As Lucifer's son, surely you knew I'd find out eventually, right?"

"You don't know anything," my father said lowly, leaning closer to the table.

"I do know you're frauds," Syn said. "And I also know that if you don't do exactly as I say, everyone in the realms will know it as well."

My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked at my father, my eyes begging for him to know a way out of this situation. I clawed my way all the way to where I was now. I didn't need some asshole spilling my family secrets and sending us back to the place we tried so hard to escape.

"You told him?" My father yelled at me. My mouth dropped as he proved the entire point that I made. Everything was my fault even though Syn just clearly stated that Lucifer was the reason he knew. I didn't even dignify his stupidity with a response, and I shook my head.

"She didn't say anything," Syn answered in my defense, making me look up at him. "My father just isn't an idiot." He sighed. "I'm offended that you believed my family and I were though."

"You can't tell anyone," my father hissed. "We worked so hard-"

"I don't give a shit about your hard work," Syn responded in a calm tone. "I don't even give a shit about your secret. All I need to know is that you'll do what I say."

"What do you want?"

"Firstly," he reached into his pocket and unfolded a few pieces of paper, setting a paper down for each of us, "I want you to each write apology letters to Queen for every single offense you've committed against her." He looked between us. "Matter of fact..." he gave us each a couple more pieces of paper, "there you go. I'll be leaving in an hour so I'd speed it up if I were you all."

"I'm not doing that," my father spoke up.

"This is my first request, Jonathan. If you can't do this, you can forget about your secret remaining between us. You have an hour. Go on."

My father's jaw ticked, and I could tell he wanted to say something to Syn, but he held his tongue. His eyes stared down at the empty paper and I mentally willed for him to find a way out of this. No matter the situation, he always knew what to do. "I need a pen," he gave in with a sigh.

"Dad, what-"

"Xyla, don't fight me on this. We don't have a choice." His eyes pleaded with mine to back down and I shook my head in disappointment.

"Here you go." Syn pulled out two pens from the inside of his jacket and held them out for us. "Write away."

My father sighed, grabbed a pen, and began scribbling away at the piece of paper. I looked at the man I used to look up to for his strength and bravery and scoffed at the weakness he showed in front of Syn.

Syn cleared his throat beside me, making me glance up at him. His head leaned towards me, moving to my ear and I tensed. "You might want to start. I don't think my brother would appreciate the fact that he's been fucking a liar," he whispered. The mention of Felix's name struck a nerve in my chest, and I pushed back my pride as Syn pulled away.

He held up a pen in front of me, his eyes daring me to resist, and I ran a hand through my hair. "Fine," I snapped. I snatched the pen from his hand and looked down at the paper. If a fucking list of confessions is what he wanted, I'd sure as he'll give him one.

After a long hour of writing, my hand began to ache, and I tossed my pen onto the table, finally finishing. I gathered up the three pages, folding them in half and holding them out for Syn. "There. You better keep your mouth shut."

"I'm not done," he said. My father handed him the pieces of papers from his side, a solemn look etched onto his face.

"What more do you want from us?" He asked weakly.

"My mother told me that you wanted Mia executed," he started. "She's somehow fled the palace, but I'd like you to leave what happens to her in my hands. She will be taken care of."

A small sadness filled me at Mia's fate, but it quickly dissipated as I remembered what she did. She made her bed, she needed to lie in it no matter how uncomfortable it was.

"Okay," my father nodded, "as long as she pays for her sins."

"As for Queen, she won't be returning to Heaven unless she strictly requests it. Until then, she'll live where she pleases. Do you understand?"

My father looked at Syn for a long moment, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was. "You seem to be talking about my daughter quite a bit. Do you care for her?"

"That's none of your business."

"Would her commitment to you buy your silence?"

Syn looked at him for a long moment, and I wondered if he was thinking about it. Was Mia right about something going on between the two of them?

"You two are very sick individuals," Syn said as he stood up. "I don't need you to sell your daughter to me. Keep your phones on. I'll be in contact for the next things I want you to do." He tossed some cash onto the table as if we were some beggars and walked away from the table.

I crossed my arms, staring down at the golden tablecloth and avoiding my father's angry gaze. "What are we going to do?" I whispered.

"There is only one thing we can do." He sighed.

"What?"

"Kill him before he destroys our lives."