Chapter 84 Octavia
Octavia
After our final run, we meet at the base and make our way to the cars, my cheeks flushed, adrenaline still humming in my veins.
The drive back to the chalet is quiet… heavy with exhaustion.
Once inside, I find my sister, give her a quick hug, and head straight upstairs.
I take a hot shower, scrubbing less than I usually do. At least my skin is not raw afterwards, and I don’t reach for the blade. That should feel strange, but it doesn’t.
Because of Markev.
Since coming here, since sharing a room with him, my head has been quieter.
I don’t want to hope for more than that, only to return to the academy and lose myself again, slipping so far into the void that I can’t find my way back to anything that feels like living.
I step out, dry myself, rub lotion in, and dress in soft clothes. This cold air is brutal on my skin.
I leave the bathroom and my eyes land on Markev, he is stretched out casually on the bed in nothing but his boxers. His eyes move over me hungrily, and I don’t miss the way his cock hardens beneath the fabric.
I roll my eyes.
He flexes his abs and winks as he gets off the bed. He stops in front of me and, before I can react, grips the back of my head and pulls my mouth to his. He groans into the kiss.
“Fucking intoxicating,” he mutters.
I push him back lightly by the chest, my eyes catching on the empty patch of skin over his heart, bare of any ink.
I can’t help wondering, every time I see it, why that spot is empty. His arms are sleeved, ink runs across his knuckles, covering his chest, his abs, his back, even creeping up his neck, yet the place over his heart remains bare.
I should probably stop staring at his tattoos so openly, but they really are remarkable. There is something about the detail, the intention behind them, that unsettles me.
I have ink of my own.
I love it.
Every piece of it. I designed it myself, poured time and care into every line, and it belongs to me completely.
And still, his feel different. They carry weight.
Soul.
They call to me, and I don’t understand why.
I even find myself wondering who his tattoo artist is, whether I should ask the next time I consider adding more to my own.
“You’re drooling,” he smirks.
I snap out of it and look at him. “Go take your shower. We’re ordering food,” I say. “I’m starving.”
The word hungry seems to flip a switch. He disappears into the bathroom without another word, the water starting moments later.
I occupy myself for a while, mostly replying to a message from my father and Adriano. When I hear the water shut off, I leave the room, knowing he will follow shortly.
I head downstairs, my hair still damp, my elf slippers barely making a sound.
Everyone is spread around the living room when I enter.
“Any thoughts on food?” Hunter asks.
“Pizza,” Piper says immediately.
He nods. “Done.”
“I fancy sushi,” I add.
He looks at me flatly. “Then get your fucking sushi.”
I narrow my eyes at him, a sly smile forms at my mouth. He’s completely gone for my best friend.
Before I can reply, someone steps in close behind me.
“Do not speak to my woman like that,” Markev growls. “Or I will kill you.”
“All talk,” Hunter replies calmly. “No follow through.”
A blade embeds itself in the wall just behind Hunter’s head as he ducks, missing his ear by inches.
Unbothered, he pulls out his phone, already tapping at the screen.
Adelaide sighs.
“Kill each other or don’t,” she says. “Just deal with the bodies yourselves. I’m not calling my team.”
Isaak mutters something I don’t catch, but Adelaide clearly does, because the two of them immediately start shouting at each other.
“Enough,” my sister says firmly. “Everyone order their own food and stop posturing.”
I sink down onto the carpet by the fireplace, my elf slippers stretched towards the warmth. Markev sits beside me, his cologne reaching me as I inhale discreetly.
It’s intoxicating.
He glances at me. “So, sushi?”
“Yes. A double portion,” I say. Then, after a moment, I add, “Actually, I want both, the hot rolls and the cold ones.”
Arlo frowns. “I thought Italians lived on cured meats and pasta.”
I narrow my eyes. “How… reductive of you.”
Isaak tilts his head. “Cuisine isn’t cultural confinement. Italians are perfectly capable of eating sushi.”
Adelaide snorts. “Shocking.”
Everyone orders their own food, which means several different restaurants.
Markev handles ours.
Soon the doorbell rings, once, twice, and the table fills with boxes and bags. We end up sharing a lot more than planned. I don’t share my sushi, but Markev ordered extra anyway.
Adelaide puts on a saccharine Hallmark film after arguing with Isaak for nearly half an hour. At this point, they should probably just kiss and make up, the sexual tension between them is off the charts.
After we eat, someone brings out drinks, some alcoholic, some not, and everyone loosens.
“We should play something else tonight,” Piper says. “I’m tired of Clue.”
Adelaide brightens. “One Lie, Two Truths.”
Everyone seems to agree, which is surprising, Isaak usually feels the need to contradict Adelaide.
It saves me a headache, so I’ll take it.
I lean back against the sofa, the fire crackling beside me.
Arlo volunteers to start.
“One. I’ve broken into a government server. Two. I have a brother. Three. I hate skiing.”
“The lie is that you have a brother,” Piper says calmly.
Arlo’s mouth turns into a faint smile, but his eyes stay flat. He neither confirms nor denies it.
Milo snorts beside me. “That was obvious.”
Piper goes next.
“One. I competed in the Olympics before I was sixteen. Two. I have a husband. Three. I hate violence, but if the situation calls for it, I can break a man’s bones with one hand.”
Hunter answers instantly, his brows knit, something dangerous settles over his expression. “You have a husband is the lie. The fuck, Piper?”
She shrugs.
Isaak goes next.
“One. I speak six languages. Two. I’ve killed for money. Three. I keep a secret that could destroy someone.”
Adelaide smiles slowly. “The lie is number three.”
Isaak inclines his head. “It’s a convenient fiction.”
Adelaide rolls her eyes. “You’re exhausting.”
“Hold on a moment,” Milo says. “I think the lie is number two. My cousin would never kill for money. He has plenty. He kills for shits and giggles, not for cash.”
Isaak’s eyes narrow, then a twisted smile flickers at his mouth. “I suppose you’ll never know.”
Adelaide exhales. “If you’re going for mysterious, you’re failing spectacularly. You’re just tiresome.”
“I’ll go next,” she says lightly.
“One. I’ve ordered someone’s execution. Two. I am in love. Three. I would burn this entire chalet down with you in it and sleep just fine.”
“The lie is two,” Ophelia says.
Adelaide’s gaze darts to her. Something moves behind her eyes.
“Correct,” she says smoothly.
I clap. “How touching. Obviously you’re not in love. You don’t have the capacity for it, your body, your mind, your soul weren’t built that way.”
Adelaide narrows her eyes at me, but it is Isaak who speaks.
“Enough.”
That draws the psycho’s attention, his lethal glare snaps towards his cousin.
“Now, if you’d said you were in love,” I continue, looking at Isaak, “I might have voted truth. You seem enamoured with the cartel bi—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Isaak snaps. “Not even my cousin can protect you from my wrath.”
“I will fucking kill you, cousin,” Markev mocks from beside me. “When it comes to my woman, consider yourself dead and buried.”
I smile, without humour. “Right. Enough posturing. I’ll go next.”
“One. I am a cold blooded killer. Two. I am meant to take over the Bellanti mafia. Three. I forgive easily.”
My sister narrows her eyes. “One.”
Wrong.
“Correct.” I say.
Adelaide laughs softly. “So many lies between you Bellanti sisters.” She clicks her tongue.
Ophelia looks between us, confused.
“For fuck’s sake, Adelaide. Do stop talking.”
“You brought it up,” Adelaide replies mildly. “I’m just stating facts.”
Hunter exhales. “I’m surrounded by juvenile, narcissistic, self-absorbed people.”
Ophelia steps in before Adelaide can respond.
“One. I trust my sister with my life.”
That one stings.
“Two. I killed someone. Three. I have a puppy.”
I don’t look at her, but my throat tightens.
Fuck, I hope she actually has a puppy hidden somewhere I don’t know about, because if that is the lie—
“The lie is two,” Milo says with a laugh, unaware of the war raging in my head. “No way you killed someone. You couldn’t even swat a fucking mosquito. You’re vegan, you care about the planet, shall I keep going?”
She nods.
Fuck.
Why does it feel like everyone is telling the truth while the rest of us insist on calling it a lie? Some sort of fucked up confession hour.
Markev goes next.
“One. I am in love. Two. I would kill everyone in this room if it kept what’s mine safe. Three. I have entire notebooks filled with sketches of my gorgeous girl.”
“The lie is one,” Arlo says. “Because you think it’s love. I’d call it obsession.”
Hunter narrows his eyes. “I don’t know. By his standards, that is love. So I’d say he meant that one as the truth.”
“Ha,” Markev scoffs. “You’re all a bunch of idiots. I am in love with my woman. There’s no denying that.”
“They’re all true. And they all circle back to Octavia,” Isaak says.
His expression twists as his eyes stay on his cousin. “Is she all you breathe now?”
Markev smirks. “Why, of course it is.”
“That isn’t how the game works,” Adelaide says coolly. “It’s called two truths and a lie for a reason.”
“I don’t follow rules,” he replies, almost offended by the suggestion.
They keep bickering between themselves. I sit there watching, and I can’t help wondering if this is what our group might have looked like without all the trauma, revenge, and hate rotting inside us.