Scarlet Vows (Empire of Sin & Blood #1)
1. Prologue
1
Prologue
M emory is a motherfucker. It’s cold and cruel. It can soothe, comfort, and amuse. But most of the time, at least in my experience—it torments and taunts instead.
Ghosts fill my memories. With battles and bloodshed. The faces of the men I killed haunt me. Especially the first man I killed when I was thirteen years old.
The memory is as clear as day.
The basement was cold, damp, and suffocating. Darkness swallowed me whole, my eyes straining to make sense of my surroundings.
The stale scent of mildew mingled with the metallic tang of blood, a reminder of the beatings I’d endured.
My stomach churned with hunger. The last time I ate was three days ago.
The door creaked open, and a sliver of dim light cut through the darkness. My heart raced as heavy footsteps approached. It was time.
“Get up,” a gruff voice commanded. I struggled to my feet, my legs trembling with the effort. The man before me was a faceless brute, his grip tight like an iron vice. He grabbed my arm and dragged me forward, his grip bruising my skin.
We entered another room, dimly lit by a single flickering bulb. In the center stood a makeshift ring, surrounded by men who watched with cold, calculating eyes. Another boy, no older than me, stood on the opposite side. His eyes were wide with fear, mirroring my own.
“Fight,” the brute growled, shoving me into the ring. The other boy hesitated, his fists shaking. But the crack of a whip against his back forced him forward. We clashed, a desperate tangle of fists and screams, driven by the need to survive.
My sights blurred. My knuckles bled, my body ached, but I kept fighting. I had no choice. Mercy was a weakness I couldn’t afford. Not here. Not now.
Days turned into weeks, the beatings relentless. They starved us, kept us on the edge of death. They whispered lies, telling me my family had abandoned me. I believed them. How could I not? In this hell, hope was a distant memory.
One night, I found the door ajar. A chance. My chance. I crawled through the darkness, my breath ragged and desperate. I reached the top of the stairs and found a man blocking my path. Panic surged through me, a wild, uncontrollable force.
With a cry, I lunged at him. The fight was brief and brutal, my desperation lending me strength. My hands found the knife hidden in his clothes and I took it, lodging it in his neck. The man’s eyes widened in shock as he crumpled to the floor, blood pooling at my feet.
The lights flickered on, and my father’s face appeared in the doorway. Pride twisted his smile, and satisfaction glinted in his eyes. He—my tormentor and savior wrapped in one—had orchestrated it all.
“Welcome to the family, Nico,” he said, his voice cold and devoid of warmth. “You’ve finally become a man.”
At that moment, I knew the truth. Trust was a luxury I could never afford. Mercy was a weakness I could never show. And in the darkness, I became the devil they feared.