“They were fucking her, Lazarus.”
His voice shook, each word dragging out like it hurt to speak. “She moaned for them like she never did for me. She promised to be faithful. Swore it before the gods. And she spat on it. On me.”
His hands curled into fists, the bronze cuffs grinding against the limestone floor.
“She betrayed me,” he said, the words shaking loose. “And I snapped.”
I barked out a laugh—dry, cracked, ugly. “Promised to be faithful toyou?” I mocked. “You defiled your brother’s wife. You fucked her before Julian was even in the ground. Are you really that fucking stupid, Salvatore? That you thought she’d ever be faithful to anyone?”
His face twisted, anger and grief tangling into something monstrous. “When I saw… what I saw—something in me broke.” His voice quivered, every syllable raw. “I lost control.”
He looked up at me then, eyes wide and desperate, like he wanted me to save him from his own truth.
But I felt nothing.
Only cold. Rage. Betrayal burned in my chest like frost set on fire.
“Everyone betrays me,” he whispered. “Everyone.” His voice cracked, as thin as paper. “No one ever stays. No one ever loves me. They use me, they take from me, they leave.” He shook his head, trembling. “My father hated me. Helena lied to me.”
His voice dropped to a rasp. “I thought I could find it with her. Just once. I thought if I loved her hard enough, she’d see me.”
I stared at him—this man I once called brother. This boy, who’d once thrown himself between me and a ring of bullies, like my life mattered.
“So, you killed her?” I said, my voice thin, sharp. “Because she wounded your pride?”
He flinched, his face collapsing inward. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, voice breaking. “I didn’t plan to. I just… I wasn’t thinking. I reacted. And when I came back to myself, she was gone. And I couldn’t take it back.”
I rose to my feet. My fists clenched so tight I could feel the blood straining beneath my skin. The cell was too small for the rage that filled it.
“Do you even hear yourself?” I shouted, the words tearing through the air. “You killed her. You took her life. And for what? Because you couldn’t stand being hurt?”
Salvatore’s head hung, shoulders shaking. His voice came out broken, barely more than breath. “I just wanted someone to love me.”
The silence that followed was worse than the confession itself.
It filled the cell, thick and choking, pressing against my chest until every breath scraped my ribs raw.
I stepped closer. The chain between us slackened, dragging against my skin. My voice came low, shaking with fury that had nowhere to go.
“And you think that excuses it?” I hissed. “That makes it better? You’re not a man—you’re a monster, Salvatore. You didn’t just kill Helena. You butchered two men. And now you tell me yousnapped?”
The word burned my tongue. “That itjust happened?”
He flinched, shoulders curling inward, his head bowing under the heat of my words. Then, slowly, he lifted it again. The light caught his face—ashen, hollow, haunted.
“I know,” he whispered. His voice trembled, each syllable breaking apart. “I know what I’ve done. But gods help me, Lazarus—I didn’t kill my father.”
I said nothing. My heartbeat thundered through the silence like a drum calling for blood.
“I swear it,” he continued. “I don’t know who did. But it wasn’t me. I hated him. I won’t deny that. I fought him, cursed him, wished him dead more times than I can count. But when I left the estate…” His breath hitched. “He was alive.”
I stared at him until my jaw ached. The chains creaked as I clenched my fists, every muscle tight enough to split.
“Then who?” I growled. “Who would want him dead? Who would wantusburied in this godforsaken place?”
Salvatore’s gaze met mine for a heartbeat before it fell. He shook his head slowly, the movement defeated.
“I don’t know…” His voice was barely there. “But someone’s behind this. Someone powerful. Someone who wants us gone.”
