She was smiling.
I’d already heard the gurgled scream echo from within the barn—the sound of a life ending in pain. Tomaso’s death hadn’t brought satisfaction—only silence.
And then Alina stumbled out of the shadows.
Her body trembled violently, her skin ghost-pale. Terror carved her features into something unrecognizable. She looked cracked—like a porcelain doll with a thousand hairline fractures spreading beneath the surface.
My heart clenched with unexpected agony.
Had I gone too far?
“What have you done?” I snarled, turning on Valentina.
She begged. Pleaded. Said she’d only followed my wishes, desperate to earn a place closer to me.
I shoved her away.
But it wasn’t enough.
She turned on Alina next. That was her final mistake.
I had no choice but to destroy her.
Not for what she did…
But for daring to touchher.
I shook free of the memory as I moved through the estate.
The hall was unchanged, lined with oil portraits whose painted eyes seemed to follow me with silent judgment. The furniture was still exquisite but dulled by time. Draperies hung limp, their colors faded. The carpets were worn beneath my boots, their once-luxurious fibers now tired.
The chandeliers still sparkled faintly in the grand ballroom, casting fractured light on the polished floors. The tapestries swayed slightly, whispering secrets I no longer cared to hear.
It felt like walking through a mausoleum.
I had returned to my house, but I was a stranger in it now.
Because everything had changed.
Becauseshewas coming.
And I had much to do.
I ascended the stairs, each step echoing thoughts I couldn’t contain—revenge, power, longing, love, madness. They swirled inside me like a storm, fed by the darkness outside the windows and the silence pressing in from every corner.
The air was thick with anticipation. The night watched me with held breath.
Something was coming.
Somethingwicked.
I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, though my mind remained far from the room.
When I found Alina, I was struck speechless—not merely by the perfection of her face but by the darkness shimmering behind her eyes—a darkness that mirrored my own. She was unlike anyone I’d ever encountered, a creature made not just of beauty but of contradiction.
Of chaos.
Of temptation.
