Chapter 15
Eclipse
THE MAESTRO | Past
They say betrayal feels like a knife. It’s oftentimes more than that. You’d never see it coming. Like a fucking bitch.
A single thrust between the ribs.
That’s what cowards say.
That’s what people say when betrayal comes from strangers… from enemies… from spineless little bastards hiding behind smiles and handshakes. I’ve seen many in my twenty-three fucking years of life. I know how to deal with them.
My Beretta knows how to deal with them.
Enemies look you in the eye before they try to bury you. But blood?
Blood is different.
Blood doesn’t come for your throat.
Blood crawls beneath your skin.
It seeps into your veins like poison… slow… patient… careful.
It smiles at you across dinner tables. Pours your whiskey.
Straightens your tie.
Teaches you how to pull a trigger… while quietly aiming one at the back of your fucking skull.
And by the time you realize it, it’s already inside you. In your bones. In your marrow. In your name.
That’s the cruel thing about family.
Strangers can kill you. But blood… blood knows exactly which parts of you are still human. And blood doesn’t stab.
Blood rots. Blood festers. Blood infects.
It eats through muscle… through memory… through loyalty… through every goddamn piece of you that you once mistook for love, until all that’s left… is something unrecognizable. Something hungry. Something violent.
Something that looks in the mirror… and finally understands, monsters aren’t born.
They’re raised. They’re groomed. Fed.
Broken.
Made.
And tonight… as rain beat against the glass like heaven itself is trying to warn me, I realize something that made my hands stop shaking… made my pulse slow… made the devil inside me smile.
I am not walking into my Father’s house tonight… I am walking into my own autopsy. And for once… I am not planning on leaving with a pulse.
Rain follows me all the way to the estate. A violent fucking storm. And I can’t care less. All I can think of is her shivering voice, her helpless cries, and the goddamned blame she laid on me.
A sane man will probably go to her, cradle her, love her, and make her realize she means the world to him.
But I am not sane.
Sanity left me the moment our eyes met. The moment she held my hand and promised me forever, I was hers. And no words, no fucking words in this godforsaken universe could name the emotions I feel for her.
As I said, I can die for her. But when it comes to her, I can kill for her too. Even if it’s my own goddamn Father.
Thunder split the sky in half as my Aston Martin tears through the private roads leading up to the ancestral grounds.
The gates open before I even stop.
My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
I step out. Rain drenches my suit.
And I feel nothing. The guards standing outside the estate exchange glances. One moves toward me.
“Young Master Vitale… you can’t go in. Your Father is in a meeting—”
Crack.
My fist connects with his jaw so hard I feel bone give beneath skin. He collapses without another word, clutching his face and groaning. The others freeze but make no move to stop me. They know better.
The estate doors swing open. And I walk into hell.
My footsteps echo through the silence, every step heavier.
Every breath darker.
Every heartbeat… closer to murder. “Zagreus?”
My head snaps to the stairs, where my Mother stands with a look so dull and unrecognizable on her face, I mistake her for a corpse.
If I were five-year-old Zagreus, I would’ve run to her and hugged her. Cried in her arms while she sang me a lullaby.
But I am not five. And I am most certainly not a son to her, because if I was, she would’ve never let Father destroy us like this.
I blamed her ten years ago; I blame her now.
Not in a mood to entertain her, I sidestep before her trembling hand comes to grab the hem of my jacket.
“Your Father is busy.” I scoff. Turning so abruptly, I am afraid I scared her. Her eyes widen, fear flashing in them, the same fear I’ve seen when she looks at Father.
Her fear should’ve satisfied something in me. It didn’t.
It spreads so deep that by the time you notice, you’re already dead.
I look at her. And for one fractured second… I see the woman who used to kiss my scraped knees.
Who used to read me stories about kings and saints. Who used to tell me monsters only existed in books. Funny.
Turns out she married one. And gave birth to another.
A bitter laugh crawled up my throat.
“Busy?”
My voice comes out low as I take a step toward her. Then another.
Rainwater drips from my hair onto the marble between us, tiny dark stains spreading across pristine white like blood blooming beneath skin.
“The woman I love is being sold like livestock.” Another step.
“My future is being bartered on his fucking whims and likes.”
Another.
“He’s making me marry some whore to secure the spot with the powerful.” I stop inches from her. “And you’re telling me…” I lean down. Close enough to watch her breath hitch. “…he’s busy?”
Her lips part. Nothing comes out. No excuse.
No denial. No lies.
Just silence.
And that hurt more.
Her trembling fingers curl into her dress.
“Zagreus… please,” she whispers, tears gathering but never falling. “You don’t understand how this family works.”
I stare at her. Then smile. “No, Mother.”
I tilt my head.
“I understand perfectly.”
My jaw tightens so hard that it hurts.
“I understand that when a man burns innocent people alive, someone hands him gasoline.”
Her face loses all colour.
The last piece of my childhood died. I nod slowly.
“Thought so.”
“Zagreus—”
She reaches for me again.
This time, I catch her wrist. Not hard enough to break. Just enough to remind her I could. She gasps.
My voice drops into something inhuman.
“Tell me something.” I lean closer.
“So I know whether to bury one parent tonight…” Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers.
And mine… didn’t move at all. “Did you know?”
Thunder explodes outside. The chandeliers trembles. Her lips tremble.
Her eyes fill with tears. She looks away.
That… that was all the answer I needed. I released her like touching her burned. She stumbled back.
“I had to… he said, he’ll hurt you.”
“And you decided Selene was a good trade? That if she marries another, I’ll be Father’s lapdog and do as he says? What is he planning? What the fuck is he trying to prove, sending Corvin to ask for her hand?!”
A sob tears from her throat. “I just…”
“What did you do, Mother?”
She sobs harder. “I lied.”
I turn toward the double oak doors at the end of the corridor. I’ll deal with her later.
Behind me, my Mother’s broken voice follows like a ghost. “If you walk through those doors…”
I stop.
My hand curls around the brass handle. Her voice cracks.
“There’ll be no coming back.”
I look over my shoulder and smile. It’s probably dead.
“Mother…”
Thunder split the sky.
My fingers tighten. “I stopped coming back…” I push the doors open. “…the moment you made her believe I did not love her.”
She’s livid, crying hysterically, but I do not fucking care. The moment the door opens, the ground slips beneath me and the world has stopped spinning.
’Cause there are so many things I can expect. But not this.
Never this.
Because across the room… sits the devil. And beside him sits betrayal, wearing a familiar face.
Rain drips from my hair onto the marble.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
My Father stands between her spread legs like he owns the fucking universe, one hand wrapped around a glass of brandy, the other resting against her bare thigh.
And the worst part?
He doesn’t look surprised. He looks… amused. Like he’s been waiting for this. Like this, this sick fucking nightmare, was part of the plan. But Hannah… Hannah isn’t expecting me.
Her eyes widen. Her lips part.
Her body jerks like I’ve fired a bullet straight through her chest.
“Z-Zagreus—”
Her voice breaks.
For one sick second, I enjoy it.
My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
Because what the fuck do you say when the woman your girl cried over… the woman your girl thought was in danger… is sitting half-naked in your Father’s office?
My voice, when it finally comes, doesn’t even sound human. “…why?”
One word. Barely a whisper.
Hannah swallows hard. Actually nervous.
Actually scared.
And for a brief, beautiful moment, I think maybe she has a soul after all. I want her to tell me my Father forced her into this. But when she smiles, no, she’s just as rotten as the rest of us. She slowly fixes the strap of her dress.
“Zagreus…” She says my name softly. Almost tenderly. Like she didn’t just set my entire life on fire.
My fury locks. I take one step forward. Then another. The gun at my waist feels too merciful.
“You lied to her.” My voice cracks with something darker than rage. “You made her think I was dangerous.”
Another step. “You let her cry for you.” Another. “You’re such a bitch, Hannah.”
Hannah’s throat moves. And I see the guilt.
But it disappears as quickly as it came.
Because then she looks at my Father. And smiles. My blood turns to acid.
“Love…” she whispers.
Her fingers trail lazily across my Father’s chest. “…makes us do terrible things.”
I stop moving. My vision blurs.
My Father chuckles.
Actually, fucking chuckles. And something inside me… snaps.
“I couldn’t let Selene marry you.” My heartbeat returns.
My brows pull together.
“…what?”
She exhales shakily.
She’s scared of what comes next. Scared… of me.
Because I’m terrified of me too.
Her voice trembles.
“If she married you…”
She looks at my Father. Then back at me.
“…she’d be marrying her stepbrother.” I laugh.
Completely fucking insane. Because of course.
Of-fucking-course.
The woman I love… the woman I would burn kingdoms for… the woman I’d kill my own Father for… is standing one marriage away… from becoming family. My fucking sister.
I look straight at my Father. Then at Hannah. Smile and point the gun at my Father.
“Well…” My fingers curl around the trigger. And I cock my head. “Love does make us do terrible things. And I guess one wedding’s getting canceled tonight.”
And I pull the trigger.