Is this worth it? Is revenge for my family worth this… hollow, rotting void I feel spreading through me?
I don’t know anymore…
I don’t knowanythinganymore.
The rage drains out of me all at once, leaving behind only exhaustion and something dangerously close to disgust for myself. Without a word, I loosen my hold and allow Elena to take Luca back. He slips from my arms easily. My hands fall uselessly to my sides.
The emptiness that follows is brutal.
Elena gathers him against her chest, cooing softly into his ear as she rocks him back and forth. Her lips brush his cheek in a comforting kiss, her voice low and soothing as he presses his forehead against her lips, safe again.
Then he turns his head to look at me.
Those gray-green eyes study me with quiet intensity, unafraid as they search mine, trying to understand something far beyond hisyears. I don’t know what he sees when he looks at me. I don’t know what kind of man, or monster, he’s trying to piece together in his small mind.
But I don’t stay to find out.
I turn on my heel and stride out of the library, my steps quick as I put distance between myself and the damage I’ve just caused. By the time I reach my study, nausea churns violently in my gut.
I shut the door and lock it behind me.
My hand trembles as I pour myself a drink, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the glass. I bring it to my lips out of habit then stop. The glass remains full as I sink into the couch across from the cold, unlit fireplace. I stare at the empty hearth, at the stone blackened from fires long since gone, and see nothing at all.
For a long time, I stay like that.
Minutes stretch into indistinct time as I sit in silence. The villa hums faintly around me, distant footsteps outside in the hallway and the low murmur of guards shifting their posts, but it all feels far away like it belongs to another world entirely.
Sorrow seeps in first, slow and suffocating, then rage follows close behind. It’s unrelenting. My brother’s face fills my mind without warning—Matteo’s easy smile, the warmth in his eyes, the way he used to clap a hand on my shoulder and squeeze it tight because the world couldn’t touch us when we stood side by side like that.
The golden heir.
The man everyone loved.
The only one who kept both of us safe when our father would fly into rages on a whim’s notice.
The man I had to bury before I was ready.
My jaw tightens. Ugliness coils in my chest, tightening until it hurts to breathe. I lean forward suddenly and hurl the glass across the room with all the force I have left. It shatters violently against the wall, the sound explosive in the enclosed space.
Amber liquid splashes and runs down the stone, dripping slowly to the floor where it pools beside the fireplace like spilled blood. I sink back into the couch again, my head falling against the cushions as I stare up at the ceiling.
If Matteo were still here… he would despise me.
Not for taking his place. Not for leading the family, but for this. For becoming our father. For using fear instead of protection. For letting vengeance rot whatever was left of my heart after he died.
The ceiling blurs as my vision burns.
For the first time since I lowered my brother into the ground, I don’t just miss him. I wish he were here to stop me.
8
ELENA
For weeks, I exist in a strangely fragile and unspoken truce with Dante.
We orbit each other like ghosts haunting the same house, never quite colliding with each other in the same temporal space but always aware of the other’s presence passing by. There is no kindness between us, no tenderness to soften the harsh marks we’ve inflicted on each other. But there is no cruelty, either. Now it is just distance and a careful silence that neither of us has been willing to break just yet.
He avoids me when he can, and when he can’t and we’re forced into the same space by circumstance or necessity, his gaze never quite meets mine. It passes over my face as if lingering might fracture whatever emotions he’s barely holding back.
