He experimented on his son.
For what?
To punish Alina for having a child with another man? To prove something? Or just because he could?
The sickness coiled in my gut, a seething, unbearable disgust.
Costa was beyond a monster.
He was a disease wrapped in human skin.
“Speaking of poison,” Costa mused, swirling the dregs of his ale. “You recall how Count Montego and I spoke of the Timeborne and my exclusive society?”
“Vaguely,” I said, still reeling from the revelation that not only had he been Alina’s lover, but he had experimented on their child.
His child.
“Why don’t you join us?” Costa said, beaming like a salesman peddling fine silk instead of death. “An explorer such as yourself must find himself in all parts of the world. You could be a tremendous asset to the organization.”
“Not if it involves poisoning the people I love.” My ale churned likebile in my stomach.
“Oh, that.” Costa waved a dismissive hand as if erasing a speck of dust. “I must master the craft—understanding plants’ properties, refining poisons’ art. A noble pursuit.”
Then, with no transition, his face darkened. “Alina left me.” His jaw tightened. “She abandoned me with our son.”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering to a bitter rasp. “She promised she would stay. That she’d help me raise him. But she vanished, leaving me to deal with a child alone. What was I supposed to do?” His lips curled. “I needed to experiment on someone… and Angelo was available.”
My breath caught.
Angelo.
Costa leaned back with a cruel smile. “In the end, Alina got what she deserved. Her monster of a lover killed her ruthlessly.”
My stomach twisted.
He wasn’t just psychotic. He was something far worse.
“I don’t want to be a part of your society,” I said, shoving my chair back. I’d heard enough. Too much. “Well, it’s been a pleasure running into you. I wish you the best of luck in your quest for gold.”
I stood and extended my hand out of politeness—or maybe to see if he would take it.
Costa blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Where are you going? I thought we were having a pleasant conversation.”
“Be that as it may,” I said, retracting my hand, “I have a wife at home. We both do.”
I nodded toward Marcellious.
Costa’s expression turned playful, almost angelic, making the filth that spilled from his mouth all the more vile.
“Ah, yes, your beautiful wife, Olivia. A shame threesomes aren’t in vogue these days, or we could have a fine romp.” He tilted his head, studying me with mock innocence. “Unless, of course, you’d like to arrange something… discreet.” He smirked. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
A low, wicked chuckle rumbled from his throat.
“Not in a million years,” I said, suppressing the urge to break him.
I shot a glance at Marcellious. “Shall we?”
Marcellious pushed to his feet, eager to leave this wretched conversation behind.
