Vincenzo staggered back as though physically struck. Then, remembering himself, he straightened and bowed stiffly.
“My Lord,” he said, rising. “How may I serve you?”
Malik’s gaze bore into him like molten iron. “I’m here for the Sun Dagger. Alina said she left it here with your father, Giovanni.”
“I…I…” Vincenzo’s gaze darted wildly, his throat working as he struggled for words.
Malik’s voice rumbled like distant thunder, his fury pressing into the ground beneath us. “You what?” He enunciated each word with deadly precision.
Vincenzo quivered, sweat beading on his forehead. His lips trembled as he finally stammered, “I told your friend yesterday I no longer have it!”
Malik’s patience snapped. In a blur, he was upon Vincenzo, gripping his shirt so tightly the fabric strained at the seams.
“What friend is this?!” he snarled, his face inches from Vincenzo’s, his rage a palpable force.
“R-R-Roman Alexander,” Vincenzo stuttered, barely able to breathe. “His name was Roman Alexander!”
Roman!
My heart leaped.
Where was he now?
Malik shook Vincenzo violently. “What do you mean you no longer have the Sun Dagger? You and your father were told to guard it with your lives!”
His grip tightened, fingers curling around Vincenzo’s throat.
Vincenzo wheezed, clawing at Malik’s arm. “My father was killed six months ago! Raul Costa attacked us, took the dagger, and murdered him!”
Malik bared his teeth, his fury crackling. “You imbecile. You were supposed to protect the dagger at all costs. Where is Roman Alexander?”
“I—I don’t know,” Vincenzo choked out, his hands grasping Malik’s ironclad grip.
Malik loomed over him, his presence swelling, dark, and oppressive. It was as if the air itself recoiled from his wrath.
A cold dread seeped into my bones, my knees trembling, my heart hammering in terror.
Malik’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper, his anger so potent that the ground tremored beneath us. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Malik!” I screamed, lunging at him. “Stop!”
In a blur, he turned, his free hand snapping around my throat.
My breath hitched.
His eyes—black as the abyss, bottomless, merciless—locked onto mine.
I felt like I was staring straight into the mouth of hell.
A violent quiver racked through me as I gasped, my hands instinctively flying to his wrist.
“Do not meddle in my affairs,” he warned. “This does not concern you.”
His fingers tightened.
Stars exploded behind my eyes.
Panic ensued as darkness threatened to pull me under.
