24 - The Devil

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It was one shot. Then another.

Griffin knew that the alcohol wouldn't help. He knew that there was nothing in the bottle to save him. But there was something in it that made him feel less alone, some type of irony that made it seem like he was celebrating life instead of trying to drown it out.

Maybe if he drank enough, the devil inside him would suffocate.

It took a lot for him to get drunk, but two full bottles of wine seemed to do the trick. He could feel the darkness taking over him with each glass. It wasn't that the darkness wasn't in him before - the alcohol didn't create the devil. It only made the host lazy – too lazy, in fact – to keep up the defenses that kept the devil out.

And when the devil had fully taken over his mind, Griffin stood and went to Patrick's room.

He didn't bother to knock. He threw the door open with a slam, and Patrick jumped, spinning around from his place next to the window.

"And what do I owe the pleasure?" Patrick asked with a mocking smile.

Griffin pointed a finger at him. "You. Get out."

Patrick gave a slight smirk, reaching down for a glass of water by the window. He took a sip. "You're not that angry with me, are you? After all, your business is failing and there weren't many options --"

"Enough!" Griffin said, running his hands roughly through his hair. "Enough of your charm speak and manipulations! You've been trying to control my business since you got here. I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. If this place burns to the ground, I'll fail alone before I accept a handout from the devil."

Patrick put his glass down. "You're drunk? That's very unlike you."

"Don't tell me what I'm like."

"Why not? Everyone else does. You've worked so hard on that brooding reputation of yours. Don't get angry at those of us who know you better. Myself and Rose, we know you're really like. Even Catriona --"

Griffin picked up a book from the shelf beside him and threw it, knocking Patrick's glass off the table, the water spilling all over the floor.

"Don't say her name," Griffin growled. "Don't you dare say it."

Patrick looked at the glass on the floor with a raised eyebrow. There was a long pause.

"I've known you our whole lives, Nathaniel," Patrick finally said. "I've never seen you so possessive. I think Samantha might have ruined you forever. And like a fool, you let her. Now it's too late."

Griffin took a step forward, hating the lack of emotion on Patrick's face. "What do you mean, it's too late?"

Patrick ran his tongue against his bottom lip. "I've asked her to marry me."

Griffin frowned. "Samantha?"

"Catriona."

The words lingered in the air so heavy that Griffin thought he might fall to the ground.

"You -- You what? You asshole. You can't come into my house and take over. First, you invite criminals into my home and then you propose to my --"

He stopped. Patrick waited for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"Your what?" Patrick asked. "Your staff? I wish you'd stop calling her that. Not because it isn't true, but because that's not how you see her. It never was. But you happen to be all bark and no bite. Samantha didn't leave you because Uncle --- had more money. She left you because you were always too much of a coward to go after what you really wanted."

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