“Salvatore,” he said. “I am your ally.”
“My ally?” I scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
His dark eyes held mine—and for a terrifying moment, I felt all my fear melt into stillness. It was unnatural… but also strangely comforting.
He stepped aside without a word. And I, against all reason, walked in.
The living room was cluttered and dimly lit. Familiar but tainted now with unease. I perched cautiously on the worn sofa, eyeing him with suspicion. Two empty beer bottles sat on the side table—Lee’s coping mechanism.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He’s not here.”
A shiver raced up my spine. “You didn’t… he’s notdead, is he?”
Salvatore let out a low chuckle. “Of course not. I have no reason to harm him.”
Then he stepped closer, a strange satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
“I’m here to help you, Alina. And together, we will bring Balthazar to his knees and deceive him.”
A chaotic surge of emotion rippled through me—fear, anger, guilt, longing—all tangled together until I could barely breathe. I wavered, dizzy, uncertain. My gaze searched Salvatore’s storm-colored eyes for even a hint of familiarity, of trust. But there was none. He was still a stranger—dark, unreadable, impossibly calm.
And yet… the power radiating from him was undeniable. It clung to the air like static before lightning. I felt it in my bones, in my blood. It frightened me. But it also made mehope. For the first time in weeks, someone seemed to have a plan.
With nowhere else to turn, I surrendered to that sliver of hope. I had no choice.
“Deceive him?” I asked, voice thin. “How can we possibly pull that off? He’s a cunning monster. He knows every weakness in my armor.”
Salvatore exhaled sharply, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “That’s why it’ll work. We’re not going to fight him head-on. We’re going toplayhim.”
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me.
“My power eclipses his,” he said. “You’ll rewrite your journal—but not as yourself. You’ll write as if you are in love with him. Adoring. Loyal. Let it drip with passion. But beneath that layer, it has subtext. Fear. Hatred. Regret. Let it be a weapon masked in longing.”
My heart pounded, the idea latching onto something primal in me.A lie so perfect it becomes truth to him.
“I could do that,” I whispered. “Iwilldo that.”
But another fear seized me by the throat. “What about my daughter?” I said, barely getting the words out. “If she ever inherits the power of time travel… I want her blade to carry poison. I won’t let her end up like me. Not trapped. Not manipulated.”
Salvatore’s expression didn’t shift.
“Let’s not pretend you only want to protect her.” He tilted his head, gray eyes gleaming. “You fear her. You envy her. You want her dead.”
I flinched, as if he’d struck me.
He wasn’t wrong. But I didn’t confirm it. I couldn’t.
“To what end?” I finally asked, my voice brittle. “Why are we doing this? What happens when we draw Balthazar out?”
Salvatore smiled—a patient, dangerous curve of his lips.
“We destroy him,” he said. “But not before we make himbleed.”
He took a step closer, voice curling like smoke. “You’ll see. This is part of a far greater plan than your own selfish vendettas. Go to Raul Costa. Beg, if you must. He’ll help you create something perfect… and deadly.”
My stomach turned. Raul and I hadn’t exactly parted on good terms. This would be a test of more than pride.
