Vivian. I’d met the woman once before, when Vincenzo, Celeste, and their entourage had come to broker their uneasyalliance with me. Celeste had mentioned her name in passing—a tech expert, a strategist, a woman with more nerve than sense. And now, here she was, trying to save this boy’s life. Idiot.
“Stop,” she screamed, her voice breaking with the sheer force of her plea. She was all fire and fury, her dark hair wild, her eyes blazing. “Take me instead. Please... kill me in his place.”
The executioner paused, his axe hovering mid-air. The crowd fell silent, gazes flicking between the woman and Ciro, wondering if he would allow such a substitution. My eyes were locked on her. Well, this was far more interesting than any entertainment this pathetic excuse of an event had provided so far.
“Vivian,” I murmured under my breath. Her name tasted foreign on my tongue, like a whisper of smoke. She was even more striking under the bright lights of the stage. The fire in her eyes and the sheer defiance that radiated from her only enhanced her beauty. Most people, when faced with death, cowered. But not her. She was a curious mix of courage and recklessness.
“Please. Let him go. I’ll take his place. The entrance fee came from my account. I’m the one you want.”
Ciro arched an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the turn of events. He glanced toward the crowd, gauging their reaction, feeding off their bloodlust. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice a sickly sweet mockery of compassion. “Isn’t this quite the twist?”
The crowd roared its approval, and I could see the wheels turning in Ciro’s head. He was debating whether the spectacle of a willing sacrifice would be worth more than a simple execution.
As I watched Vivian on that stage, an unfamiliar feeling twisted in my gut—admiration, maybe, or perhaps something darker. There was a certain ruthlessness to her desperation, a willingness to do whatever it took to protect that boy.Interesting.
What was her angle? Why would she risk her life for him? Was it loyalty? Debt? Or something more personal?
I leaned forward slightly, my interest now fully captured. Vivian didn’t strike me as the foolishly self-sacrificing type. There had to be more to this. And if there was one thing I excelled at, it was uncovering the secrets that people tried so desperately to hide.
The boy she was so eager to save was white as a ghost, his entire body shivering with adrenaline. He said nothing, only stared at Vivian with his mouth agape.
Ciro turned back to the executioner, gesturing for him to lower his axe. The crowd groaned in disappointment, but Ciro merely waved them off. “Patience, patience. Let’s see where this goes.”
The executioner stepped back as Ciro pulled the microphone from its stand and approached Vivian. “Tell me, my dear,” he purred, “why should I spare his life in exchange for yours?”
Vivian’s chest heaved, but she didn’t flinch when Ciro shoved the microphone at her.
“If… If you didn’t kill me, I could be of use to you. I have skills. I know how to fix things, how to... make things work.” Her gaze darted toward Will, who was trembling behind her. “His death would only provide a fleeting moment of entertainment for your audience, but I... I could be useful.”
The crowd leaned forward, hungering for her next words, and so did I. Because beneath the fear and the desperation, I could see something else. Determination. Strategy. She was bargaining with her life, yes, but she was also playing a game. One I was determined to understand.
Ciro tilted his head, considering her offer. But all I could think was:This woman is far more interesting than I gave her credit for.
And I intended to find out why.
4
VIVIAN
Ifroze, my body stiffening as that dark mist solidified into a figure I knew all too well. An inky darkness concealed his face, and the aura of menace seemed to suck the warmth out of the room. He was a fuckingmonster, the kind that haunted nightmares, the kind that even the cruelest of those in The Below feared.
The Shadow’s presence was so overbearing it made it impossible to breathe. What the hell was he doing? Did he want to be the one to execute us?
The crowd was deathly silent now. No more bloodthirsty laughter, only nervous shuffling. Even Ciro looked caught off guard, his bravado faltering as The Shadow stepped onto the stage, his dark tendrils swirling like a furious storm.
Ciro cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “It seems we have an unexpected guest,” he said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “To what do we owe the honor, Shadow?”
The Shadow ignored him, his attention locked onto me. It was like being caught in the jaws of a predator. There was no escaping it.
“I will take her,” he said in a low, rumbling growl that sent shivers down my spine. His voice seemed to reverberate in the bones, to grip you by the throat and squeeze. “She can live out her sentence as my prisoner.”
A ripple of shock went through the crowd. Even Ciro seemed momentarily stunned. “This... this has never been done before,” Ciro stammered. He glanced at the executioner, who stood frozen, axe still in hand. “The rules?—”
“Fuck your rules. She will serve her punishment in my domain, under my authority. And the boy will go free. Do you dare argue with me?”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening.No, no, no.This wasn’t what I wanted. I would have rather been killed quickly than be taken byhim.To be trapped in his grasp was a fate worse than death. I had seen his cruel brand of evil, and I wanted no part of it for myself or for Will. I had to do something.
The crowd murmured among themselves.
