Chapter 58
Fifty-Eight
“Monsters think they can break you if they make you bleed. But I’ve learned that pain doesn’t make me weaker. It sharpens my aim.”-Aria Boschett.
Consciousness creeps back, fog lacing my thoughts. My limbs feel heavy. My eyes flutter open, and I blink hard, trying to clear the haze. I shift, wincing. Across the room, an older man sits on a blue velvet loveseat, dressed in a vintage-cut suit like he owns the world and everything in it.
“Ah… you’re awake,” he says, voice smooth. His gaze pins me in place, and my skin prickles with unease. Authority radiates from him. Panic bubbles beneath my ribs, pressing at my lungs.
“Where am I?” I croak. “Who are you?” I scan the room; it’s plush, unfamiliar, no guards, just us.
“I apologize.” He inclines his head. “I forgot... you’re not of our world.” He leans forward, shadows carving deeper lines into his face. “Don Lorenzo Rizzotto.” He says his name like a coronation. Then he smirks. “I’m here to welcome you. Cyan won’t forget who holds the upper hand.”
Lorenzo. The name cuts through the fog like a blade. Memory slams back into place—Gracie, Evie, all that blood. Then there’s Olivia and Lucilla. I sit up too fast, heart hammering, and force myself to meet his gaze. No weakness, not now, not in front of him.
“Nice to meet you, Lorenzo,” I force a laugh. “If I hadn’t been kidnapped, this might almost feel civil.” I steady my breath and glare at him. “You think I’m a pawn?”
He chuckles, entertained. “So that’s it. That fire.” He leans back. “That’s what drew Cyan to you.” His eyes glint. “But you misunderstand, my dear. The game has already begun. Your presence is simply part of my strategy.”
I clench my jaw. “You underestimate me. I’m not just a piece on your board. I won’t play your twisted game, like your snitch, Lucilla.”
His smile vanishes. “My daughter,” he says, coldly.
I feel a sinking sensation, and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open. “Lucilla is your daughter?”
He nods. “I sent her to Cyan. I should have snuffed him out long ago, but I enjoyed molding him into everything that woman didn’t want. Now, the ungrateful wretch dares to try to take what’s mine.” My brow furrows. The way his voice bit when he said the words “that woman.” Who is he referring to?
“You’re a coward, Cyan didn’t become who he is because of you. He became stronger in spite of you.” I meet his gaze, unflinching. “He’s more of a Don than you’ll ever be.”
Lorenzo’s mouth twists in disgust. “You think that pup deserves the throne I bled for?” His voice drops, sharpened to a growl. “Killing you would serve two purposes: punishing him and reminding the boy who the true king is.”
I lift my chin. “You can threaten me all you want.” I meet his gaze, defiance in mine. “Cyan will make you pay. You’re no king, Lorenzo.” I bare my teeth. “You’re a monster, and monsters fall.”
His smile curdles. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he sneers. “Cyan has no taste. Imagine choosing you over Lucilla.”
I flinch at her name. The elevator flashes behind my eyes.
Gracie’s blood, Evie’s screams, and my anger sharpen into lethal rage “So this is about your daughter?” I spit.
“Because Cyan didn’t want her? Because Lucilla is as rotten as you are?
” My voice rises. “You put your own grandchild through hell. You torture people for sport and play with lives like they’re toys.
I can’t wait for Cyan to put a bullet in your head. ”
Lorenzo’s expression goes dead. “I had you taken because you cost me my son,” he says with deadly calm. “I don’t give a fuck about that brat. Cyan may have pulled the trigger… but you put him in that position, and it’s me who will put a slug in that mutt of hers.”
Revulsion floods my chest. “Your disgusting son tried to rape me,” I say, every word burning. “He got exactly what he deserved.”
“Silence!” he roars and surges toward me.
His hand clamps around my jaw, crushing it.
His face fills my vision–dark, bottomless.
“You don’t understand your place,” he hisses.
“A woman’s purpose in our world is to spread her legs for the men who decide she’s worthy.
” His other hand closes around my throat.
Air vanishes; panic explodes as black spots bloom at the edges of my vision.
I stare into his eyes and see it clearly. My death.
“Father, you can’t kill her.” Lucilla’s voice cuts through the room. She stands in the doorway, composed. As if she isn’t watching her father choke a woman to death.
Lorenzo’s grip tightens. “What did you say?” His tone drops to vicious bites. “You dare give me orders in my house?”
Lucilla shrugs, strolling inside like this is a cocktail party. She sinks into the blue velvet chair he abandoned, crossing her legs with careless grace. “Of course not, just offering a suggestion.”
“Don’t test me, girl.” Lorenzo snarls, squeezing harder. My vision fractures. My lungs burn. “You will not dictate my actions,” he snarls. “Don’t forget who the Don is.”
For a split second, Lucilla’s mask cracks, but it’s gone in an instant.
Then she smiles. “You’re the Don. I’m simply reminding you killing her now spoils the fun.
” She tilts her head, considering me like a dress on a rack.
“Cyan loves her. Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to kill her while he watches? ”
Her words land. Lorenzo releases me without warning.
I roll off the side of the bed and hit the floor hard, air tearing into my lungs.
I cough, gasping, my chest burning as I drag in breath after breath.
“You’re right, my dear,” he says, smoothing his suit, civility snapping back into place like a mask. “Patience is a virtue.”
I force myself upright; every breath scrapes raw against my windpipe.
I won’t lie at his feet. His hazel eyes track me as I rise and meet his gaze with fire.
Even if I lose, I won’t break. Turning to Lucilla, my voice shredded.
“You should be ashamed. What kind of mother puts her daughter in danger like that?”
Lucilla sneers. “Why care about a kid who’s not even mine?”
I blink once, then again, trying to process what I heard. “You’re not her mother?”
She shrugs. “No. I was just a surrogate. Had an egg fertilized with Thomas’s sperm implanted.”
I gape. “You’re a sick bitch. Why?”
“To trap Thomas,” she says easily, “so he’d marry me. Evie was leverage.” A smile curls. “That’s all.”
Rage detonates in my chest. “That little girl is innocent,” I bark. “You treat her as if she’s disposable. You’re not a mother. You’re a grotesque parody of one.”
Lucilla leans forward with a wicked grin and turns to Lorenzo. “Father, I think it’s time Cyan learns you have his precious fiancée. She’s been terribly disrespectful to our family.”
“I agree,” Lorenzo murmurs.
Lucilla pulls out her phone. Within seconds, guards flood the room.
“Take her to the basement,” Lorenzo orders. “Let the show begin.”
They overpower me with ease. Hands grip my arms, drag me down cold corridors, down metal steps.
The air changes–damp, stale, rancid with mildew and old blood.
They strap me to a chair. One arm bound, both legs locked down.
My free hand is slammed flat against the table.
Another man lifts his phone; they’re going to film it.
I imagine Lucilla delivering my middle finger to Cyan in a silk-lined box.
It’s so comical I can’t help myself; I laugh.
I refuse to give them my fear. Lucilla steps closer, one hand behind her back eyes bright.
“Cyan, my boy,” Lorenzo’s voice carries, smooth and pleased.
I look at him. His gaze locks with mine.
The hollow click-thunk makes me glance from him to her, my pulse spiking as pain explodes.
A nail punches through my palm. I scream.
Blood pools, dark and thick. Lucilla lowers the nail gun, admiring her work like she’s just had a manicure.
The pain is white-hot, blinding, ripping through my arm, my spine, my bones.
My screams aren’t weakness; they’re a beacon. Cyan is hearing this, and I want him to burn the world to find me.