A/N: Hmm, sorry for the chapter update confusion. I did tweak chapter 11 once but I don't know why my computer was screwing with it (basically I'm blaming my computer for that)...here's the next one...for real this time...thanks...

"The function of wisdom is to discriminate between good and evil." -Cicero

Akacia

I watched the prone figure on the cement floor, his back to me, displaying the ropes around his wrists.

I pictured his face. His warm dark brown eyes. His smile.

I sighed as I heard footsteps and voices outside the large steal door.

"Akacia dear, admiring Stephan's handy work?" my father, Alexander Bernheart, said in his usual low and gruff voice, referring to the man with the tranquilizer gun. I kept my silent composure.

"Don't be so dismal. This is what you wanted. What we wanted. Revenge."

"No. This is not what I wanted. I thought--"

"You don't understand do you dear girl? I don't care what you thought. This is how it happened. So be it. One can't change the past or present. And if you attempt to change the future my dear thorn...well, that's why we have him," my father sneered.

Vile. Vile. Vile. How can I possibly be related to you? You are playing mind games with me. I don't know what to think anymore! Good. Evil. The line is so thin. I don't know...

"Go now Akacia. Be a good girl and go check on our bait," my father directed while pushing me towards the door. I took another look towards Tony.

"He will be fine. I don't plan to kill anyone...yet," he said with a sickening satisfactory smile. It pulled at my soul. How can I be doing this? No. No. I must, for Roger and Mathew. No! It's wrong! I don't know! I don't know...

"Go now Akacia," my father repeated, this time more sharply.

"I-I can't--"

"What!? You can't!? Ha! You should be jealous of that girl in there!" he yelled pointing across the hallway, "She has more than you could ever hope for! She has a real fiancee. Real friends. A real life."

Jealous?

Jealous. Yes. Jealousy...

I could feel it bubbling within me. I don't know how he does it. But he does. His words penetrated through my logical conscience (or lack there of in this case). I could feel the jealousy rising. Eating at me. Burning through me.

"Yes father," I said, a bitter acid in my tone that stung my heart. But my brain was working double time, shifting through the words and emotions. My heart came second.

I felt the hatred towards her.

The flood gates opened.

I walked across the hall.

And I let it out...

...

Tony

My head pounded as if there was a stampede raging through my mind.

My memories poured back slowly into the fog that was my thoughts. I frowned at the picture of Akacia that formed in my head.

I quickly realized the migraine was most likely caused by the combination of drugs, cold hard floor, dehydration, and rope burns.

I opened my eyes slowly, taking in my unfortunate surroundings until they met a pair of amber orbs. But they were definitely not Akacia's. No, these were not warm. They were cold and emotionless.

"Alexander Bernheart," I whispered glaring up at the man. He stood, a smile forming across his aged face.

"I was right in assuming you knew too much," he commented. I really had no response for that. He's right. I probably do know too much. Isn't it just great having nosy detectives for friends?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked hoarsely, trying not to sound too cliche.

"Revenge."

One word answers are never a good sign. It means they can sum up their insanity in one word. And that answer was even more cliche than my question.

"How original," I smirked, "And I supposed Akacia fits into your sick plan as well?"

"Of course. Roger and Matthew were her family too. She is my flesh and blood after all. She must learn the family business," Bernheart said. He acted as if this was totally normal. Just making small talk with the captive. You know, the norm.

"She's not like you. She'll never--"

"How long have you known my daughter Mr. Prito? Two weeks? I hardly think you are in any position to defend her character."

I knew he meant that last comment in more than one ways. Bastard.

"You're just using her. She's special. Something about her. Akacia has a gift," I muttered back, not feeling too terribly heroic considering how tightly the knots were around my wrists and ankles.

"I see you have learned something about my daughter. However, her powers are more vast than you will ever know."

"You're just using her! You're sick you know that? Sick!" I yelled, though, like the man had mentioned earlier, I was hardly in a position to argue.

"She is very easily persuaded," he laughed, eyeing me scrutinizingly, "Akacia is very weak. Always has been. You see along with her channeling and clairvoyance came an easy mind to tap into. I can tell her how to feel and she will listen to me. Her emotions take over. She can't fight it."

"Like I said. Sick," I hissed. He was using his own daughter. Manipulating her emotions for his own personal gain.

But at the same time I knew deep down, no matter how much I didn't want to believe it, Akacia Bernheart was...evil.

A/N: Sorry it's kinda short, but I had to give y'all some info on Akacia, hope to see some reviews! Thanks!