Chapter 47
Luciano
I woke up cold. The side of the bed where Ava usually slept was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.
A strange tension started in my chest—slow but rising. I sat up, scanned the room. Her slippers were gone. So was the robe.
I checked the bathroom. She could have been in the kitchen.
I pulled on sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. There was a guard outside the bedroom when I opened the door.
“Where did my wife go?” I asked.
“She—uh, she went downstairs, sir.”
“Downstairs?”
He swallowed and nodded.
My blood stopped moving. Not because it was forbidden for her to go down there. She could go anywhere she pleased. But why was she down there?
I took the steps fast, bare feet silent on marble. Through the hall. Past the kitchen. Past the cellar doors.
The metal entrance to the Judgment Room stood cracked open.
I stepped in. The air hit me first. Cool. Dry. Sterile. The place had been cleaned recently—I could smell the products.
The screens were on.
Ava stood dead still, watching me on the screen. Shirtless. Blood-slick. Driving a knife into a man’s throat. Another screen played—me dragging another by the hair to the steel table.
She just... stared.
I crossed the room, coming to stand behind her. Her posture was eerily calm.
“Ava.”
She didn’t turn.
“Ava.”
Finally, she looked over her shoulder. “Hey.”
I searched her face. Her expression was unreadable. Detached, almost.
“What are you doing down here?”
“The guards let me,” she said simply. “I asked. They looked scared to tell me no.”
“Why did you come down here?”
“I wanted to see.”
“See what?”
“This,” she said, nodding toward the screen. “I find it fascinating.”
Fascinating. I didn’t like the way she said it.
“When I showed you this,” I said slowly, “I didn’t expect you to sit here watching it like entertainment.”
She shrugged. “Isn’t that what it is? People watching something they can’t do and don’t understand? I wanted to understand. I wanted to learn to be like you. Your equal.”
My stomach twisted.
“Don’t come down here anymore. Not without me.” I wouldn’t bring her again—so this was the last time she’d step foot in this place. The head and recordings would be destroyed by weeks end, as a matter of fact. I didn't need any of it anymore.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
I stepped forward, placing my hand gently on her back. Her skin was warm. Her body wasn’t tense. But something was off.
We needed to get away from that house.
“We’re going home.”
She looked at me. Her eyes were wide—innocent, even. But I saw the glint beneath it.
“Now?”
“In the morning.”
She smiled. Not sweet. Not sharp. Just... neutral. That wasn't her smile.
“Okay,” she said.
We went upstairs without another word.
She stripped off her robe and climbed into bed like nothing had happened. I watched her get under the covers, then turned off the lights.
As I slid into bed beside her, she poked my chest lightly. “You’re in your head again.”
I didn’t answer right away.
She smiled wider. “I can hear the gears turning.”
“What are you up to, Ava?” I asked—flat-out.
She laughed. Rolled onto her side and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. “Nothing. I just want to understand the man I married.”
My jaw tightened.
She kissed my shoulder. “Go to sleep, Luciano. It’s late.”
I lay back. Eyes open. Something wasn’t right.