63 | Sacrilege

**GABRIEL**

Lachlan and I grew up since we were nothing but boys. Of course, we knew that we were half-brothers, but it hardly bothered us. Our bond was ever strong, and we always had each other’s back. I had never questioned why my mother insisted that I use her maiden surname, ‘Sullivan’, but it stayed with like a reminiscent touch of her presence.
Growing up, I realized that I was like my father in many ways. And like every other son, I was proud of that fact until I realized what a monster he was. That women were nothing but disposal objects of his pleasure, and my mother was among many of his victims.
It was a day of revelation for me.
At the age of 26, I knew I had already gone too far to redeem myself from this hell. There was no turning back until I ran far, far away from here. And exactly did that. I took up and left without so much a word with Lachlan.
So, from his vantage point, his anger was justified.
But I would not let Sienna take the fall for me.
“I am sorry,” I told him, cutting into the silence of the room. “I wish I could undo everything that I have done, but it is too late now.”
Lachlan smiled ruefully and shook his head. Without meeting my eyes, he continued the conversation. “It took me a week to find out about you,” he revealed. “For once, I wanted to go to that ancient fucking place and beat the shit out of you…”
“As if you could….” I muttered.
He turned to glare at me but went on. “…but then I thought, how does it even matter to an asshole like you. You are right about one thing, though. You are like dad— a selfish dick.”
There was so much pain and anger within him that I did not know how to take it all away. “Lachlan, I did not mean to leave.”
He scoffed. “Well, you sure did not stay.”
I nodded slowly. “I hated myself. I hated being who I was, and I was desperate to erase my past. I had grown to admire a man who raped my mother for years. One who had tormented countless women in the name of sex and god knows whatnot. I could not be that man. I could not….”
I was young and reckless, but I was not heartless. Every silver storm and every riotous rage that grew within me could either destroy me or make me whole. All I had to do was be selfish and make a choice. And I did…
Lachlan turned to me with burning lava in his eyes, an anger so intense it could barely be contained. “In what world, my dear brother, fucking a kid after taking a vow of celibacy to fit into your idea of a pious life?”
I tried my best not to burst. “Sienna is not a kid,” I snarled.
“She is definitely, not mature either.” He huffed a sardonic laugh and then narrowed his eyes. “Do you know that she had tried to attack me with a letter opener, by the way?”
Shit.
That was so like Sienna. She would flip out under any strenuous circumstances.
And my brother was not someone who would let an assault so easily.
“Lachlan, I beg of you,” I pleaded. “Please don’t hurt her. She has nothing to with my past.”
He stared at me for a long time, impassive yet piercing, before letting out a small laugh. “I might be my father’s son, but I am not a monster like him.” Getting up, he reached for another bottle and poured himself a drink. And without turning to me, he spoke in a cold voice, “She’s upstairs, in your old room. Take her and get the hell out of the house.”
I watched as Lachlan disappeared out of the door without putting up a fight. He just left like he didn’t care at all. As if that savage fight we had minutes ago meant nothing to him.
He had leverage—*Sienna*—and he just gave that up for nothing.
And for the first time, I realized that I did not know this Lachlan Wellard. That his entire constitution fell apart into dust to become this infinite, incredible version of himself. The destruction, the breaking that caused the making of a more powerful man than I have ever known.
I blinked a couple of times before rushing upstairs.
Ironically, I was running towards the same place from where I had detached myself so brutally that I did not realize the destruction in its wake. When I had forced open the door, my heart leaped at the sight of her. Unharmed.
“Gabriel!” Sienna jumped to her feet and bolted towards me. As soon as she launched herself at me, I hugged the life out of her.
“Thank God you are okay,” I whispered. The kind of relief I had felt after hours of excruciating torment was something I could never describe in words.
And Sienna must have translated that fear when I held her tightly in my arms. “Gabriel, what’s going on? That man told me…”
“I will tell you everything.” I cut her off. “I promise. Just let me hold you, please.”


**SIENNA**

“I am…fine. I am really okay,” I whispered into the crook of his shoulder after breathing in a lungful of his smell. It was divine…a relief. But that moment, more than I needed him, he needed me. And I was not going to deny him that.
I held him tightly, as long as it needed for him to find his saneness.
Gabriel pulled back and cupped my face with his hands. “I should not have left you alone, I should not have…I…”
“Gabriel, it’s not your fault,” I cut into his chant. “It was Zak Abbott…” My throat clogged up a little at the mention of his name.
“I know.”
“And then this man came along and told me about you.”
He nodded, sighing. “Lachlan is my brother.”
“So why on earth would he just buy me for a million bucks?” I asked, clueless as to his brotherhood. I had assumed that they were family, but the palpable hatred in the eyes of that stranger was concerning.
“He wanted to get back at me, and…it’s a long story, Sienna.” He sounded tired. “It’s ancient history.”
“Then I want to know,” I demanded. “I have the right to know about you, Gabriel. I want to know about the man you were before. I want to see every shade of you - the good and bad, the darkness and the light.”
There were so many versions of his personality that I found it tough to reconcile each and every one of them. And I felt like I needed to know about his past in order to understand this man.
He took in a deep breath and sighed heavily. “Okay.”
His story started back in the day when he was Gabriel Wellard and not Gabriel Sullivan. And he was just a man, of flesh and blood, of rage and power and of sin and savor. With every ounce of patience, I listened to the details of my life, the tragedy of fate, and the biggest revelation that forced him into a life of religion.
It was not faith; it was his escape.
Deep into his bones, that every man was still ingrained within him. Whether Gabriel denied it or not, it was there. He was still the same man he was before, but he was nothing like he had narrated about his biological father.
And it reminded me all over again that biology does not matter. Blood doesn’t matter. And that family was the first one who would betray you.
By the time Gabriel had finished the story, I had almost stopped breathing. He reached out to squeeze my hand, and I let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to say,” I said honestly. There was only so much a person could take, and the things he had known about his biological father were worse than mine.
The only difference was that I had no expectations from mine as well.
“I am not that man anymore,” he defended himself. “At least, I try not to be.”
“You are not a monster, Gabriel. I know this.” I took his hand in mine, entwining the fingers. “You are a priest, a man of the cloth…” The truth was harsher when I repeated it.
Now that I knew the reason as to why he took up the black cloth, I could not blame him. He found solace, a way out, and his peace of mine.
“Not for long,” I heard him whisper. It was so soft that I almost did not hear.
“What?” I asked, unable to thread the words clearly.
He lifted his gaze to mine, all determined and strong. “I told Father Lucas about us, about the broken vows.”
My heart stopped beating for a second. No, he did not. It could potentially kill his entire life as a priest.
“And?” I dared to ask.
His blue eyes, mostly cold and unfeeling, twinkled for the first time. “I don’t want to be a priest anymore, Sienna. I don’t want to live a life without you in it.”