CHAPTER ONE
ROMAN
Present time
“W here are we going?” Malik asked as we left the lavish Noir room in Mathias’ estate.
“Rosie,” I said, the name like a talisman against the darkness that threatened to engulf us. “We must check on her.”
We needed to ensure she was safe, untouched by the turmoil that had seized our lives.
Silence hung heavily between us as Malik and I strode toward the front room, our footsteps echoing against the marble floors of Mathias’ opulent estate.
Malik glanced at me, his intense eyes searching mine for a strength I wasn’t sure I possessed.
“Let’s hurry this up,” he barked, urgency lacing his voice. “We can’t leave your wife vulnerable with those two monsters lurking around.” My heart raced at the thought; my love for her was eclipsed only by the frustration she ignited within me. Her stubbornness often led her into perilous situations, and now it had driven her to seek out Balthazar, ensnared in Belladonna’s shadow, with Mathias looming ominously beside her. What possessed her to descend into that abyss, determined to confront her greatest adversary alone, while I remained powerless above?
The air was thick with tension, a palpable cloud that followed in our wake as if it also sensed the unease coursing through our veins. I could feel Malik’s restlessness mirroring my own; he had always been the one to seek balance in the chaos, striving to mend what was broken. Now, with Marcellious snatched from us by those relentless Timehunters, there was a void no amount of determination could fill.
“Damn it,” Malik muttered. “If only Marcellious were here.”
Lines of frustration etched deeper into his face.
We glanced into the room where Osman and Rosie sprawled on the carpeted floor, playing with wooden blocks. Osman looked so silly pretending to be a child. Satisfied, I eased back, not wanting to disturb them.
“I can’t stand the thought of my wife with those two demons, Balthazar and Mathias.” I clenched my fists, the leather of my gloves creaking with the motion. “I’m going to go downstairs to the dungeon. I’m going to see that everything is alright.”
Without another word, we strode forward, each step carrying the weight of our resolve. We were warriors, bound by a purpose that went beyond ourselves, beyond even the confines of time. And though the shadows whispered of dread and despair, we would not falter.
Malik and I departed into the depths of uncertainty, leaving behind the deceptive splendor of the estate for the grim reality that awaited us below.
The stairwell spiraled downward, a stone artery leading to the dungeon’s heart. The air grew damp, carrying a musty scent that clung to my nostrils. My thoughts were a tangled web—the image of my wife, who had already endured more than her fair share, of Rosie, innocent and vulnerable, a vivid splash of color against the drab uncertainty of Marcellious’ absence.
“Almost there,” Malik murmured, his voice a low growl of frustration. He was like an animal on edge, desperate for action, for a wrong to right. I shared his sentiment, the gnawing helplessness clawing at my insides.
We reached the bottom of the stairs, the coolness of the dungeon level seeping into my bones. It was a chill that no fire could chase away, a reminder of the dangers lurking within these walls.
We turned the final corner and halted abruptly. My gaze landed on Lee, and I did a double take. Then, my attention was drawn further down the hallway. There, amidst the shadows, stood a woman—her presence incongruous in this dim underworld. Her eyes, pools of history and sorrow, fixed on another figure before her—my wife.
“Mom? You’re alive?” Olivia’s voice broke through the stillness, a mixture of disbelief and awe as she stared at the woman.
“Yes, honey. I’ve been alive this whole time,” the woman said with a knowing smile.
Olivia’s knees buckled. I lunged forward, catching her limp form just as it grazed the cold floor. Her skin was pale, starkly contrasting the vibrancy she always emanated.
“She’s fine. She’s just shocked to see me.” The strange woman’s declaration did little to ease the vice around my heart.
I cradled Olivia in my arms, her unconscious state rendering her a sleeping beauty lost in a nightmare.
“Malik!” My voice echoed off the walls, a plea laced with urgency. “I need your help!”
Malik strode over, his face set with determination. We had faced countless perils together, but none so personal, so wrenchingly intimate as this moment with Olivia’s vulnerability laid bare between us.
Malik’s eyes smoldered embers at the woman.
“Malik, you look more handsome than ever,” she said, her voice dripping with insincerity.
“Enough!” I said, an edge of ferocity cutting through my tone. “We have to get Olivia out of here.”
Lee barreled toward us, his muscles rippling with determination as we hoisted Olivia’s lifeless body between us. Urgently, we scaled the stairs, sweat beading on our brows as we raced against time to reach safety with our precious burden.
“We must care for her,” I said, more to myself than to anyone else, as we navigated the labyrinthine hallways of the estate. Malik paced beside me, each step a thunderous beat in tune with the wild tempest brewing within him.
Upon reaching Olivia’s bedroom, we gently laid her on the plush bed. Her serene face belied the moment’s chaos, and my hands shook as I brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. The weight of guilt crushed my chest as I stared at my wife’s pale, unconscious body. I shouldn’t have allowed her to be alone with those madmen, leaving her vulnerable and defenseless. I hoped she would wake up soon and forgive me for my mistake.
“Who was that woman?” I asked, turning to Malik with a gaze that sought answers.
“Olivia’s mother,” he spat out, the words laden with bitterness.
Shock coursed through me, rooting me to the spot. How could this be? Olivia had told me she’d witnessed her mother be killed by Balthazar.
“Can I help?” A maid had appeared at the doorframe, wringing her hands.
“Water,” I commanded, my voice hoarse. She scurried away and then returned with a basin and cloth.
As I wrung the cloth, water droplets fell like tears onto the wooden floor. I traced the contours of Olivia’s cheek with a tenderness borne of desperation.
“Come back to us, my love,” I whispered, a silent prayer for her swift return to consciousness.
Olivia’s eyelids fluttered, and I felt relieved as she returned to the waking world. I cradled her in my arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against mine—a rhythm that sang a counterpoint to the erratic drumming of my pulse.
“Oh, god, Roman. I’m so happy to see you. You will not believe it,” she murmured, her voice weak but filled with wonder. “I just had the strangest dream. I saw my mother live in the flesh, and Lee was with her. I think my pregnant brain is making things up. Mathias beheaded Tristan. Balthazar was captured.”
The room seemed to constrict around us, the air growing heavy with the weight of her words. Malik, pacing like a caged beast, spun toward us, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that pinned me to the spot.
“It wasn’t a fucking dream, Olivia.” His voice tore through the silence, each syllable sharp and incendiary. “She’s fucking alive.”
The profanity jolted through me—Malik, always the peacemaker, his decorum now shattered by the magnitude of our reality.
Olivia’s brow furrowed as she tried to piece together the fragments of her consciousness.
“My mom is alive?” Her incredulous whisper was a knife to my gut. “I thought she was dead. How is this possible? I saw it happen with my eyes. Balthazar stabbed her in the chest, and there was a funeral. Everything in my head is jumbled. I don’t know what’s going on. I need to speak to my mother.”
The urgency in her voice clawed at me, but the strategist within knew better than to act on impulse. My grip tightened around her, protective and resolute.
“No,” I said, anchoring her gaze with mine. “You should rest. Today has been hard on you. Malik and I have to come up with a plan. We must figure out what the next step is. This throws everything off with Lee’s and your mother’s arrival. We should focus on finding the dagger, but instead, we must deal with Alina’s sudden appearance.”
Conflicting emotions warred across Olivia’s face, her need for answers wrestling with the understanding that recklessness could cost us dearly. My mind raced, already sifting through possibilities, contingencies, and allies. In this twisted game where the board had been overturned and the pieces scattered, I knew one thing for certain—we were far from checkmate.
Olivia whipped around to face Malik, her eyes wide and pleading. Her shaky voice barely managed to whisper, “Did you know?”
The tension in the room crackled like a live wire.
“No! Mathias did not tell me anything,” Malik said. “I feel so used in this whole twisted plan!”
He could barely contain his rage, a raw, palpable force that seemed to vibrate through the air.
“Malik, please—” Olivia extended a hand and stroked his arm, her eyes brimming with concern.
“Don’t touch me!” His shout echoed off the walls, and Olivia recoiled. There was a wildness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
“Malik, you need to calm down,” Olivia said, though her voice quivered slightly. “I’m tired of the secrets. We need to speak with my mother to hear her truth.”
A sharp rapping at the door cut through the turmoil. Malik flung open the door to reveal Alina and Lee standing there, their presence an unwelcome intrusion into our chaos.
“Olivia?” Alina’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.
With a sudden burst of energy, Olivia pushed herself up and lunged into Lee’s open arms. I could sense the love and longing in their hug.
“I missed you so much, Lee. So, so much,” Olivia whimpered.
“My dear Little Moon,” Lee said. “Not a single day has passed since you left that I haven’t thought of you. I’m sorry, Little Moon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
Olivia clung to him before facing her mother, her eyes alight with a thousand unanswered questions. “Mom, how are you standing here, alive in the flesh? Where have you been all these years?”
The demand hung heavily in the air.
Alina met her daughter’s gaze, the weight of years etched onto her face. Silence fell upon the room.
I stood to the side, my arms crossed over my chest as Alina stepped forward with open arms toward Olivia.
“I will tell you everything, my darling,” she said, her voice a blend of joy and sorrow. “I’m so happy to see you! I know you have many questions, and I will answer them all. But first, I need to check on Emily. I was told she had her baby today.”
Olivia’s expression hardened, her eyes flickering with the pain of recent revelations.
“She just learned her father is Balthazar and is devastated,” she stated flatly. “She witnessed the brutal death of Balthazar’s son. She has never met you. After everything she has endured today, I don’t think she is ready to see you.”
“The last time I saw Emily, she was just a tiny newborn,” Alina said, her voice quivering.
“Please,” Oliva said, “be gentle with her.”
Olivia and I proceeded down the candle-lit corridor toward Emily’s room with Alina close at our heels. My footsteps echoed heavily against the stone floor, each a dull reminder of the uncertainty gripping our lives.
The sight of Emily cradling the baby to her chest while tears streamed down her face twisted something deep within me. Her soft sobs filled the room, each one punctuated by a whispered plea for Marcellious.
“Disgusting,” Alina muttered, but I caught it. Disgust? At her flesh and blood in distress?
Before I could question or chastise, Olivia was at Emily’s side, whispering words of comfort and smoothing back her hair. Alina cleared her throat to assert her presence, but it was a clumsy intrusion against the backdrop of Emily’s grief.
“Emily,” I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil, “it’s alright. We’re going to find Marcellious, I promise.”
“Everyone, leave! I don’t want to see anyone right now. I want to be alone.” Emily’s forceful and raw voice broke through her tears. She didn’t look at Alina.
Olivia rested her hand on Emily’s trembling shoulder. “Emily, I know you’re going through a lot today, and I feel every ounce of your pain, but there is someone special you probably want to meet.”
Emily’s heart clenched with betrayal as she met Olivia’s gaze, her pain mirrored in the woman’s conflicted expression. “This is your mother,” Olivia said softly, her words laced with regret and guilt.
The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on Emily, waiting for her reaction to this revelation. Would it bring healing or only deepen the wounds that were still raw and bleeding?
But instead of finding solace in the truth, Emily’s agony erupted into a deafening scream, her voice rising to an unearthly pitch like a banshee’s cry. “Get out!” She spat at her mother, tears streaming down her face. “I want no one in this room.” Her words hung heavy in the air, thick with anger and pain.
Alina took a hesitant step forward, reaching out as if to smooth over the chasm that had opened between them.
“Emily, honey, let me explain,” she pleaded, her words trembling with desperation. “Balthazar meant nothing to me. It was a past connection.”
“Past connection?” Emily’s shriek cut through Alina’s defense like a knife. “I don’t want to hear anything from your mouth, especially after discovering that Balthazar is my father! I’m disgusted. Do you know how many times he tried to kill me? You bore me but abandoned me. I wish I’d never been born!”
I remained an observer, a statue rooted in place as emotions raged around me. Alina’s face contorted in pain, her composure slipping away under the weight of Emily’s condemnation.
“No, Emily,” Alina said, her voice straining against the tide of rejection. “I tried to protect you. He never wanted anything to do with you or be a part of your life. I wanted you to have the best life, so I left you with Philip.”
Emily clutched the baby closer, her body shaking with inconsolable sobs. “But you cared for your other daughter, Olivia! Yet you abandoned me!”
The accusation hung heavy, a testament to a lifetime of perceived inequality.
Alina’s composure snapped, her scream piercing the already fraught atmosphere. “I love you both! My life was brutal and harsh!”
The room felt smaller, the air thicker with each word spoken, each secret unraveled. I watched, still powerless, as the fabric of trust continued to tear, the threads of their bond fraying beyond recognition.
My fingers found Olivia’s amidst the tension that crackled through the air, her palm cool and clammy within my grasp. She turned to me, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes.
“I’m shocked to see Emily so riled,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
She stepped toward Emily, her hand slipping from mine to reach out with words meant to soothe. “Emily, we will find Marcellious and return him to you.”
Lee’s silhouette filled the doorway, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
“I will find my son and bring him back to you,” he said with unwavering conviction. “I raised him and will do whatever it takes to have him by your side again.”
His gaze locked on Alina. “I think you should go. Emily and the baby need their rest.”
Without a word, Alina receded into the shadows of the hallway, leaving behind a trail of stifled emotions and unanswered questions.
A hush descended as Emily’s tear-streaked face turned toward Lee. His steady gaze seemed to smooth out the raw edges of her anger.
“I believe you, Lee,” she said, her voice steadying. “Marcellious has told me so many things about you. Your presence here eases my pain.”
With trembling arms, she presented the bundle cradled against her chest. “Meet Leo.”
Lee approached with solemnity reserved for sacred moments, extending his arms to receive the infant. As he gazed down at the baby, his expression softened, reverence shining in his eyes like a lighthouse beacon amidst stormy seas. “You have given Marcellious a beautiful son, Emily. I give you my word. I will bring Marcellious back.”
As I stood there, watching the exchange, a silent vow settled in my heart alongside Lee’s promise—a gladiator’s oath to protect and fight for this family, torn and mended by the threads of fate and blood.
Olivia stormed out of the room, her fury a living thing that seemed to burn the air around us. I trailed closely behind, my mind racing, but my demeanor as steady and resolute as a centurion on watch.
“How could she just stand there, Roman?” Her words were sharp, each one slicing through the tension. “After all these years?”
“Easy,” I murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder in a silent bid to steady her tempest and protect her as if I could shield her from the storm of emotions battling within her.
Alina was waiting just outside, her face etched with concern and something else—perhaps regret or fear. As Olivia’s eyes met hers, I felt a shift inside me. Every muscle tensed, every sense heightened. The gladiator in me took over, ready for any threat, real or perceived.
“Olivia, honey, please let me tell you the story,” Alina said, her voice threaded with a weariness that spoke of long-held burdens. “I’m tired of all these secrets and lies.”
Before Olivia could retort, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Mathias appeared, his presence dominating the space as he approached.
“You will get the whole truth, my dear,” he told Olivia, his gaze fixed on Alina with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Alina will tell you everything.”
Even if they were to tell us their side of the story, could we trust it? Would it be enough to satisfy our burning questions and doubts? Or would we always wonder if there was more to the truth, hidden just out of our reach?