Prologue
Azrael
Age ten …
My mouth is dry and my stomach empty. I discarded the meager contents during the night, knowing today is the day I will carry out one of the worst acts a son could commit.
As I enter the family kitchen, my nonna’s dark eyes settle on me.
She’s busying herself as usual, pounding the dough with her wrinkled fist before flipping it over and repeating the process.
My father, no doubt, believes her actions are a way of celebrating, but I see differently; I see the tremor in her movements, the twitch in her eyes when she’s nervous and hyperalert. She says me noticing these things proves I have good in my soul and humility in my veins, and I should never let the evil fully take over. She even calls me “la mia luce,” her light.
I don’t see how that’s possible, living here in my father’s mansion, “Casa Forte” as he likes to call it, especially when he insists on destroying every spark of happiness in a blink of an eye with his brutality.
He takes pride in his cruel actions, says it makes him more of a man and proves his worth in our society; therefore, he encourages us to do the same.
Her soft eyes plead with mine, the blackness of them holds something more than the familiar barbarity my siblings and I have become accustomed to, and not for the first time, I hope I don’t become the devil I’m named after, but rather a savior of the damned.
Nonna reaches over the counter and squeezes my hand, and I flinch at the contact. Being dealt with such affection is alien to me, unwelcome almost.Still, her warmth settles my racing heart and the way my blood flows wildly through my veins like a tsunami.
“You have a light in your soul, Azrael. I see it,” she declares, the same way she has many times before now, only this time feels different. There’s urgency in her tone. “When all you see is darkness, find the brightest star in the sky.” Her bony finger shakes as she points toward the patio where blackness envelopes us. Still, the crack of dawn has not yet broken. “There, you will find your light, your goodness; it’s in here too.” She places her wrinkled hand over the steady thrum of my heart. “Find me.”
When her hand slips away, coldness seeps into my veins, and I replay her words.“Find me.”What does she mean by that?
“There’s light, Azrael, and where there’s light, there’s hope.”
I shake my head to tell her there’s no hope, no light despite wanting to believe it with everything I am.
I’m the heir to the Carrera family, bound by the poison in my veins and the darkness in my soul.Bound for an eternity to hell and moral destruction.
She must see the determination radiating from inside me because her shoulders droop, and I despise myself for causing her disappointment.
Why do I crave her softness and approval so much when I know I will be damned for it?
Broadening my shoulders and standing straighter, I proclaim the words my father has had me repeating from the moment I could speak a sentence. “I’m Azrael Carrera, the devil in the dark. This is my destiny.” My voice is monotone, cold and detached, almost dead, just like his, the man I loathe.
It’s exactly how I’ve been trained to be. Heartless.
She shakes her head venomously, her stare so intense I swallow with uncertainty. “You are no such thing.” She grips the collar of my shirt, stunning me frozen to the spot as her face twists in outrage.“Never!” she exclaims, speaking louder than ever before. “You’re so much more. Do you hear me, Azrael?”
My nonna has always been a quiet, meek, and gentle woman. The perfect obedient wife, as you would expect in La Familia. She’s grown frail with age, but right now, the strength emanates from her in undefeated waves. “You have light. I see it in your eyes, and with light, comes hope.” Tears pool in her orbs, but they do not fall, and for that, I am thankful. Tears are my weakness, and she knows this. “You will guide your siblings toward the light, Azrael. That is your duty as heir, to protect them always.” She speaks as if she will not witness it, and I suppose she won’t. She’s been unwell for years now, and my father says he should put her out of her misery but then smiles like thecallous bastard he is and says she’s undeserving of such an act.
Her hand releases me, and I rub over my heart, still experiencing the unfamiliar warmth of her touch.
“Here, take this.” She struggles as she slips a gold ring from her crooked finger, the one with a black stone in the center. Then she grabs a hold of my hand, stunning me, and places the ring into my palm and curls my fingers around it until I make a fist while I remain motionless, staring down at the action. Her warmth seeps into my skin, and I relish it, a touch so unfamiliar to me it feels as if it’s melting away the icy barrier I keep between us, and I’m unsure whether I like the intrusion or not; it’s a weakness neither one of us can afford.
“A reminder: where there’s darkness, there is light. It’s my promise to you, Azrael. I will remain your guide, and your promise to me is to never let anything extinguish it.” Her bottom lip trembles as I turn the ring between my fingers, then slip it into my pants pocket.
A throat clears from behind her, and I lock eyes with one of my father’s men. “They’re ready.” I give him a terse nod, and without giving Nonna another glance, I follow behind him, but I don’t miss the harrowing sob she releases as we head out of the kitchen and down the stone staircase to the basement.The sound sends a shiver of fear up my spine, and I swallow back the ball of dread lodging in my throat during our descent.
My legs become weak, but I somehow remain composed, exactly how I’ve been trained to.
I’m about to become the devil, when all I want to be is the boy my nonna believes me to be. But I’m no savior. Today will become proof of that.
Men line the basement walls with their arms behindtheir backs in a mark of respect I wish was not bestowed upon me—their heads lowered, and not one of them acknowledges my arrival.
Breathing through my nose, I walk farther into the room, and my father steps forward, his dark glaring eyes, which I’ve grown to despise, are a mirror of my own; scrutinizing me, warning me of retribution should I fuck this up. My stomach does a weird flip at the prospect of letting him down.
