Raffaele’s expression twisted with anguish. “You’re stronger than him. I know you are.”
Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn’t stop myself. The compulsion tightened its grip, filling my mind with Izo’s voice, his commands, his will.
As I stood there, torn between the man I loved and the compulsion that bound me, the crowd roared for blood.
Izo instructed one of his guards to hand me a blue blade that felt impossibly cold in my hand.
The edges shimmered in the eerie light of the arena, and I could feel the power coursing through it. I recognized it instantly. It was the blade Izo had retrieved from his underwater citadel.
My fingers trembled around the hilt, and the crowd’s roars faded to a distant murmur as my focus narrowed to the man kneeling in front of me.
Raffaele.
He was bound, helpless, and yet he held my gaze with an intensity that made my heart ache. There was no fear in his dark eyes, no anger—just a steady, unwavering love that threatened to undo me entirely.
Izo’s voice slithered into my mind.This is your moment, Vivian. The final step in proving your loyalty. Take the knife and deliver justice for the sins of his family.
I turned to him, desperate to plead, to bargain, but the compulsion clamped down on me like an iron shackle. My words caught in my throat, and my body betrayed me again, taking a step closer to Raffaele without my consent.
“You don’t have to hesitate, my dear,” Izo continued, his tone as calm as if he were discussing a piece of art. “This blade is special. Wherever it strikes, no matter how small the wound, the water veils will ensure it ends his life instantly. Painlessly, even. Consider it a mercy.”
My hand shook violently, the blade wobbling as I tried to hold it steady. I felt the weight of a thousand eyes on me, the crowd eager for blood, for a spectacle.
Raffaele’s voice cut through the noise like a lifeline. “Vivian.”
I froze, my gaze locking onto his again.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s okay, love. Do what you need to do.”
Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks as the compulsion forced me to take another step. I hated my traitorous body. Hated that my actions were no longer my own.
“I can’t,” I choked out, though the words weren’t directed at Raffaele.
“Yes, you can,” Izo snapped. “Do it, Vivian. Prove to me, to everyone, that you’re truly mine.”
My hand rose, the blade trembling in the air. Raffaele didn’t flinch.
“Look at me,” he said. “Just look at me. Don’t listen to him.”
The compulsion twisted like a vise, a searing pain ripping through my chest as I fought against it. It demanded obedience, but my heart screamed louder.
Raffaele’s voice came again, softer this time. “It’s okay. I know it’s not you. I know what he’s doing to you.”
His words shattered something inside me. I sobbed, my shoulders shaking as I raised the knife higher, my arm moving like it belonged to someone else.
“Finish it, Vivian!” Izo demanded.
A scream tore from my lips as I strained against his command. My arm jerked forward, but my fingers loosened their grip, and the blade dropped to the ground.
“Vivian,” Raffaele said again, his voice like a balm against the agony. “It’s not your fault. Whatever happens, this isn’t your fault.”
Izo’s boots were loud against the stone as he approached, his shadow falling over me. “I’m disappointed, Vivian, dear,” he said coldly. “I thought you were better than this.”
I couldn’t respond. My body was racked with pain, my mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions.
“Pick up thefuckingblade,” Izo commanded.
My hand found the hilt of the blade, but Raffaele’s voice cut through again.
