Chapter 52
Gaetano
“Police are still investigating the mysterious disappearance of eleven individuals who attended a private event at the presidential suite of Sofia’s Hyatt hotel.
Initial reports suggest the gathering was an exclusive party with a limited guest list, hosted by an Italian citizen of Bulgarian descent, who introduced himself as an artist under the pseudonym Signor Neri.
The event, marketed as a ‘horror-art experience’ titled Draw Me in Blood, was booked under strict confidentiality.
Hotel staff declined to comment, citing nondisclosure agreements, but confirmed that the reservation was made with an advance payment and a valid Bulgarian ID belonging to a local woman.
‘It was like a nightmare. Everything suddenly turned red. There was no way out. I heard voices that couldn’t have been real,’ shared a woman who requested anonymity.
Authorities have initiated a missing persons investigation.
The names of those missing have not been officially released, but all are believed to have been members of a select group who received black invitation cards and took part in a separate “game” hosted by the evening’s lead performer—a man who has since disappeared without a trace.
A police spokesperson stated they are investigating several theories, ranging from a staged abduction to the possible involvement of a cult or criminal psychological manipulation.
The missing individuals are primarily young people aged twenty-one to thirty-five, many of whom are social media influencers or connected to Bulgaria’s elite.
According to unconfirmed reports, among them are: Evelin Petrova, daughter of Kiril Petrov, better known as Kiro the Poker, a long-time figure in the criminal underworld with charges ranging from human trafficking and illegal gambling to money laundering; Georgi Velchev, son of Valentin Velchev, owner of a private security empire with interests in the arms industry; and Nicole Vrancheva, daughter of tycoon Dimitar Vranchev, aka ‘The Construction Baron,’ whose firm has been involved in major infrastructure projects over the past decade.
Relatives claim that the last known location of the missing persons was indeed the Hyatt, with their phones switching off shortly after the party started.
Hotel management has pledged full cooperation. Police are not ruling out any possibilities—from voluntary disappearance to orchestrated crime.
Rumors indicate the Italian artist and his Bulgarian partner left the country early the next morning after the incident. Interpol is now involved in locating them.”
Long after the report ends, Nicole is still curled up on our couch, staring at our TV—part of our completely new, real-life furnishings for the castle.
I promised her I’d give her everything, and for the past few days, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
I teleport us from the castle to the stores and back again, bringing home every piece of furniture she sets her eyes on.
I don’t know how yet, but the reality of the castle held.
Maybe Madeline was too weak to dismantle it.
Maybe it’s something else. Either way, we decided to stay.
I used to believe that the moment the final harvest was complete, I would burn the place to the ground.
And yet, here I am, a week later, still inside these walls, and I’ve never felt more at home.
I also suspect time flows differently here. Just as I’m untouched by illness and age, so too should Nicole remain protected from such complications beneath the dome of this castle. Not that I couldn’t find other ways to secure her future, now that my own formidable magic has been reinforced.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Nicole. No exceptions.
And yet, a sharp pang slices through my chest whenever I remember the one thing I can’t give her. She was hopeful, right up until the end, that we could bring back those who died at the event. That I’d release every soul I’ve ever taken. That I’d undo the damage.
The three hundred harvested souls remain ever-orbiting around me, though they’re contained and sealed off from us with powerful magic. They’re an army I intend to keep close. In the world of magic, three hundred souls—and corpses—are priceless when negotiating with the Higher Powers.
Often, at night, as I fall asleep with the scent of Nicole’s hair beside me, their faces flash before me like a broken reel on repeat.
I’ll carry the weight of guilt if it means keeping us safe.
If an immortal war breaks out—the one Madeline warned me about—I need to make damn sure nothing can hurt us.
But I will never forget that true power doesn’t come from what you own. It comes from the heart. And as long as mine is sitting on that couch, just an arm’s reach away from feeling it beat against my chest, I’ll remain the most powerful witcher alive.
In the meantime, I plan to lay the world at the feet of my Little Baroness.