Chapter 38
I stalked through the library, my steps echoing on the stairs leading to the rooftop.
At the Tacticians’ demand, I’d spent the past hour fixing our chess app. Though I generously made it a public software for the Tacticians, they lacked the brilliance to improve it—until today. Whoever that was made it useless to use, with one tiny error in the code, but that wasn’t what captured my attention. He or she enhanced my code, boosting the AI’s power.
The intruder also left a message: Will you see me now?
In a different scenario, I might have been impressed and even pissed, but another revelation consumed my thoughts. I threw open the door to my sanctuary, crushed the snow under my feet, and gripped the balcony railing with clenched fists.
Memories of my first night at Pantheon flooded back. Three years ago, I stood in that same spot, a silhouette against the night sky, remembering what the Merciers took from me, the haunting thoughts echoing in the silent darkness. The idea of plummeting into oblivion, mirroring my mother’s fate, had teased the edges of my mind, but then wasting the genius of my brain would have been a shame.
Three years ago, a glimmer of hope called to me.
Revenge.
I closed my eyes, the biting wind and snow slamming against my face. Revenge fueled my resolve to live a bit more —the desire to ascend from the ashes, resurrected and vengeful. Bruno Mercier was the final justice I needed to serve.
I’d planned for Dalia and me to cross paths again, right here, in the place that held the most significance for her. For nine years, all I ever wanted was to loathe her, but I never could entirely, and I hated myself for it. I’d live until I exacted my revenge, taking everything from her just as she had infiltrated my mind, my veins, my very existence since we were kids. That used to be my plan.
To never be powerless again.
To watch them kneel before me.
To break her so she’d always remember me. She would never love me. How could she? I was unlovable. So if I took everything from her, I’d live through her eyes. It was all I ever wanted. If I couldn’t make her love me, I’d force her to remember me.
And then, I’d die.
I never saw anything past that. It was all blackness. But ever since Dalia showed up, all the blackness had dissipated.
The door flung open behind me, jolting me from my thoughts. My eyes darted over my shoulder, my brows furrowing. A small figure trudged through the white blanket of snow, heading in the opposite direction of me while muttering incomprehensible words.
I recognized this short boy with wavy locks. Michel . My senses sharpened as he approached the edge of the roof, his movements unsteady, his body trembling. What is he doing?! He crossed the railing, and the hair on my skin hissed. He turned to face the void, his hands clutching tightly around the barrier.
Before I could think, the snow beneath my feet crackled with each step. I approached him cautiously, the icy tendrils of the wind whipping strands of hair across my forehead. My heart thundered in my chest. He still didn’t notice my presence, mumbling sentences, tears wrecking his eyes.
“Michel—” I began.
“My name is Miguel, asshole!” he bit out. “Leave me alone! It’s not like you’re going to stop me anyway.”
My jaw contracted. I’d failed with my mother. I couldn’t fail with him too. I couldn’t keep on failing. It was as if the universe was making me pay for it over and over again.
“I won’t,” I said, taking another step forward to him, keeping my cool. “I mean, it’s the ideal place to die, really. It’s poetic. I’d have picked this one myself.”
His face contorted into a grimace directed my way. “I’m not a coward. This way, everyone will remember my name! Everyone will finally know that I exist! Everyone will see me now! ”
Will see me now.
The code.
He was the one who enhanced my code. He’d given me a clue—it was a cry for help. My mother had started giving away her things just before she passed. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed the same pattern.
“But no one will see you,” I said, steam clouds forming as I spoke. “My mother chose pills. You want to torture yourself, to feel the fall and the regrets; she wanted to leave this world fast and numb the pain.”
“Your mother…” Michel or should I say, Miguel, blurted out, and when I took another step forward, he removed a hand from the barrier to signal me to stop. “If you get any closer, I swear I’ll jump!”
I raised my hands, feeling my heartbeat in every damn part of my body. Fuck. What can I do?
“This has to stop. I need to stop feeling this way.” He was crying more and more. “I thought you were my friend, Levi! I saw you as an example. I wanted to major in computer sciences just like you. I looked up to you, but you treated me like shit and left me with the Pioneers. You’re an asshole, and I hate you!”
“And now, I’ll be the last face you see before you jump. Isn’t it perfect? Torturing yourself until the very end. But you’re right about me. I’m an asshole,” I said calmly, seizing the opportunity. He was gazing up at the sky, so I crossed the railing to be on the same side as him. The void beckoned, and I stepped forward, my feet dislodging a lone rock, sending it tumbling into the abyss below.
His wide gaze shifted back to me, both of his hands now tightening their grip on the balcony railing. “What are you doing?”
“Jumping with you,” I offered. “Although I’d prefer not to—I’ve finally experienced what it’s like to feel something for someone, so frankly, death doesn’t interest me anymore.”
“You even want to take my suicide from me. With my luck, they’ll only mention your name.” His chin trembled, and tears formed again. “I’ll be invisible again.”
I knew how he felt.
That was why I’d wanted her to remember me in the first place.
“I saw the upgrade you did to my chess game. Pretty impressive. I could use your skills someday,” I whispered.
“Are you here to offer me a job?” His voice made a bunch of crows fly away from the trees.
“I agree the timing doesn’t work in my favor right now.” I paused, watching him glance at the void, then at me. He’s unsure. “Think of all the people you’ll hurt if you jump.”
He chuckled. “Right, I’m a burden for my own family. If I die, I’ll make their lives better. They’ll be free of me. I’m doing them a favor.”
His words ignited something primal within me, my blood boiling in my veins. Doing them a favor. Did my mother think she was doing me a fucking favor?
“You’re dead wrong,” I snarled, my voice breaking. “They’ll spend the rest of their pathetic lives wondering what they did wrong. Why they were so powerless to stop you! Why they didn’t see it coming. They’ll rot with guilt, blaming themselves for losing you. You’ll shatter them because you chose the coward’s way out, and, eventually, they’ll think of dying too.”
The ghosts, they never go away. That vision of horror never left my mind. That guilt, that endless guilt, gnawed at me like a carnivorous worm consuming my corpse little by little.
“It’s wrong. You’re only here because of your conscience,” Miguel spat.
“I don’t have a damn conscience,” I retorted with venom, carefully edging closer to him along the balcony’s edge. The idea of stumbling to my demise would be downright comical. Levi Delombre, attempting to play the damn hero, only to wind up with his only prized possession, his skull, splattered on the pavement.
I could overpower him and drag him back from the edge, but he’d try again someday. He’d find another way. I had to make a point.
“I’m here because my mother thought just like you,” I growled, locking eyes with him. “And I couldn’t do anything about it. It was all my fault. It made me into the unlovable asshole that I am today.”
“But I’m hurting, I feel so lonely, my family is better left without me and—” He was tearing up, his fingers clawing at his scalp as if he wanted to rip the hair out of his head. “I deserve to die! And this isn’t about you, but me, Levi! Me!”
“You fucking don’t deserve to die.” I raised my voice. “This isn’t about me, or maybe it is, because I can’t let you waste your life because of people like me! I grew up being a freak, so I know how it feels. You wanted to be like me, well, congratulations, you’re about to become another bitter, miserable bastard like me. Isn’t that fantastic?” My laughter was hollow, tinged with bitterness. “No one will ever love me! But people actually care about you. Don’t do that to them.”
“I’m going to do it.” His voice shook. “It’ll never stop. They’ll never stop. I’m all alone. I can’t—”
He closed his eyes, one foot into the void. Act fast. Think fast. I was the one to find her. Mom lying on the floor. The letter in her hand. Her eyes open, unblinking, soulless. Her cold white skin. Act fast. Think fast.
Check.
Check.
I’m about to lose. He’s about to jump.
Checkma—
“Fine, then, let me help you,” I said.
I grabbed him by the collar and held him precariously close to the edge of the roof. His feet teetered on the balcony, my muscles straining against the effort. My other arm circled the balcony railing and the gargoyle, hoping it wouldn’t break.
His gaze fixed on the ground below, a flicker of fear in his eyes, and regret was evident in his hands clutching my arm. “No, I don’t want to!”
I raised a brow, all my muscles on the verge of breaking. “I thought this is what you wanted?”
“No, please,” he pleaded, shutting his eyes tightly. “I don’t want to die. I don’t!”
I pulled him back onto the safety of the roof, and I climbed the barrier after him with what felt like a broken arm from overestimating my strength earlier. Miguel curved into a ball, still in shock.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I wasn’t thinking, I felt powerless, and I—” he whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “What have I done?”
I sank to the cold ground beside him and lay on my back, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“It’s okay.” I felt the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. “But if you ever feel like that again, come to me next time. I’m not looking forward to doing this ever again.”
“I’m sure your mom regretted it the moment she did it,” he mused.
My jaw clenched at the mention of my mother. She regretted leaving me? “No, no. It’s my fault, and I—” I bit back the words, my lips thinning. “She hated my guts.”
His chin shook as he cleared the tears from his eyes. “We think ending our life would help the people we love because we hate who we are… She hated herself, not you. Thank you for stopping me.”
“Whatever,” I replied dismissively, pushing myself upright and ignoring the tightness in my heart. “Now tell me about those guys. It’s the Pioneers from last time?”
He shook his head. “If he hears I talked, he’ll—”
So it’s a he.
I’ll deal with that Pioneer later.
“I promise I’m going to solve this when I get back.” I locked my eyes on him and extended my hand. “But I have some stuff to take care of during the holidays. I trust you won’t do anything stupid?”
“No,” he muttered.
Not that I trusted him. I’d send a message to his parents about it so he could get the help my mother refused to accept.
“Now, are you going to grab my damn hand, or do you want to stay here?”
He hesitated but ultimately grasped my hand.
If I had arrived on time to extend a hand to my mother, would she have seized it too?
When I stood on that roof for the first time three years ago, I felt someone reaching out to me as well, an invisible pull. Dalia had always been that glimmer of hope, the one holding me back so I wouldn’t jump from the roof.
Maybe her Kiss of Death was the afterlife I was seeking after all.
Because death no longer interested me.
I made sure Miguel (though I was still going to call him Michel until he spoke up for himself) was kept busy with Cillian at our chess club. I instructed Cillian to keep a close eye on him, just in case, while I indulged in my favorite pastime, not by pleasure, but necessity. Dealing with that kid had resurrected my mother’s ghost and all the ugliness I’d buried inside me.
I needed a remedy for my feelings.
I needed her.
My glimmer of hope.
In the darkness of the music room, I lingered in the shadows, silently absorbing the melancholic melody emanating from my broken doll’s violin. She wore her Unifier uniform, the moonlight illuminating her like she was on stage, and I was her unseen observer. I wouldn’t dare to disturb her performance by making my presence known.
The ribbons in her white hair fluttered with the wind of the half-opened window. Her melody was new, and tragic, like the most heartbreaking of endings. A pang stirred in the depths of my heart, an unsettling sensation that I couldn’t quite shake off.
Perhaps because light never shines as bright as within the complete darkness.
As her final note quivered in the air, she glanced toward the window, catching sight of my reflection and meeting my gaze. “You’re here.”
“Don’t stop,” I urged almost desperately, taking a tentative step toward her. “What’s this song?”
“I improvised it.” She turned around, a smile gracing her lips. “It’s inspired by that day.”
“Your mother,” I interjected, recalling the somber notes in her composition.
She nodded. “It’s about the what-ifs—what if I hadn’t begged her each year to go to Pantheon’s opera? What if the terrorists never came?”
She never called them by their names because a name held power. I tilted my head to the side, and my thumb grazed her cheek. My muscles tensed. I’d gone to the roof earlier because I needed to think about my next move.
“You’re not responsible,” I said.
“I know that deep in my heart, but…” She struggled to keep her smile on, her lips shaking slightly. “Tell me what you think of it.”
She pulled away from me, standing by the piano across the room, and resumed playing. Her bow danced with grace, moving with an exquisite delicacy and precision, drawing out notes that weren’t meant to be heard but felt. Her eyes were solely locked on me, and I felt my skin prickling.
Her furrowed brow intensified, and crows burst from the trees outside, their cawing echoing the tumult within her. The sad and heartbreaking melody emanating from her violin was so profound, it almost transformed her violin into a cello.
Her music created the most beautiful feeling I’d ever experienced. I stood frozen. Mesmerized. Obsessed. Everything she touched became beautiful. She had angelic fingers and a heart so pure I’d never believed it could exist.
When she stopped, it was as if she emerged from a separate world, a world that was hers and only hers, and she smiled again. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful and haunting, just like you,” I whispered, looming over her.
She pinched her lips together, avoiding my gaze. “I need to tell you two things.”
I hummed, waiting for her to continue.
“I found the last clue to Lucie’s scores.”
I froze, the soothing effect of her melody already dissipating.
“There was a violin cadenza,” she continued. “The notes formed numbers, and I finally discovered what they meant… They formed a URL link.”
She bit her lip and seized my hand, waiting. She waited for my reaction, probably some sort of excitement. Dalia was so stubborn; it wasn’t surprising she didn’t listen.
“I thought I told you to stop searching.” My voice was barely audible, my muscles coiling with tension. “You hid that from me.”
“Because I knew you’d disagree,” she quipped, throwing back the same sentence I’d used about the picture statement.
My lips tilted in a thin line. “We’ve definitely mastered the art of communicating.”
“I know you’re against it. That you gave up. But aren’t you curious to know what she’s been meaning to tell you?” She stood on her tiptoes, her hands resting on my chest. “It’s up to you, but I think it’d be good for you to know.”
“Okay,” I whispered, not believing that that damn kid made me change my mind. Why did I even want to know, now?
Having hope always deceived me.
“Okay?” Her smile widened, her innocent eyes sparkling beneath her long lashes.
“Not right now, but okay,” I conceded, studying her plush glossy lips. “What’s the second thing you wanted to tell me?”
“I made up my mind about Christmas.” Her lips hovered over mine. “I want you to come with me.”
She kissed me, but my mind raced with calculations, my body rigid. I’d been waiting for this moment for so long. Everything was falling into place, and my plan unfolded flawlessly. I was a checkmate away from Mercier’s downfall, and there was no way out for him.
“You’re not kissing me back?” Dalia teased with a chuckle. “That’s new.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
I pressed her against the piano, the collision echoing discordantly as our lips met. She trailed her hand to my chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” she murmured. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t know.
Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, just as I had orchestrated it. It was all thanks to Dalia. If she hadn’t mentioned that new weapons export contract, I wouldn’t have delved deeper, uncovering the absence of any record of it.
And if I hadn’t ventured into the dark web to find information on Los Calaveras, hoping to appease Dalia’s nightmares one way or another, I wouldn’t have stumbled on a very poor pixelated video from fifteen years ago. It depicted them handling an AR96—an assault rifle with a carbon-fiber body and ergonomic grip. A discontinued weapon designed by Mercier’s industry.
The truth was glaring at me all along.
I removed her hands from my chest and kissed her knuckles. “Nothing.”
I’d conducted the most entrancing chess game of my life, but I didn’t want to end this one. Because the proof that could destroy Mercier’s empire could also destroy Dalia’s life and her beliefs.
I knew what really happened the day she lost her mother.
The target was never the president’s son.