20. Dante
Dante
I don’t lift my head when the door shuts.
I don’t speak when the lock turns.
I don’t breathe until I hear her exhale.
The silence between us stretches, heavy and uncertain. I keep my eyes on the concrete floor, counting the cracks in the surface like they’ll somehow ground me.
“Hi,” she whispers.
And I finally look up.
She’s smaller than Destiny was. Softer. More hesitant, like a fawn left in the woods too long. But the eyes are the same. Wide. Deep. Full of things that shouldn’t belong to someone her age.
“You’re… Dante,” she says, voice light and breathy, like my name is something sacred.
My throat tightens. “You look like her.”
Her lips part. “Destiny?”
I nod once. “She was my best friend. My—”
My voice cracks. I don’t finish.
Brooke’s face lights up, a soft sort of wonder dancing across it.
“Damien told me about her. He said she was brave. That she fought.”
I clench my fists. “Is that what he told you?”
She tilts her head. “She meant something to you, didn’t she?”
“She was family.”
Brooke smiles, gentle and warm, like we’re not in a fucking dungeon. “Then we have something in common.”
I stare at her, heart dropping.
“No,” I say. “No, we don’t.”
She steps closer. “But we’re family too, Dante. Siblings, Damien said. I always knew something was missing, and now I know—it was Destiny… And in a way— it was you.”
My chest tightens.
“He saved me. Took me in when I was homeless. Showed me who I am.”
“You’re not his,” I snap before I can stop myself. “You’re not some possession he gets to mold.”
She frowns. “He’s not molding me. He’s protecting me. You don’t know what he’s done for me. What he’s done for all of us.”
God.
She believes it.
Every word.
Every lie.
She’s drowning in them, and she doesn’t even know it.
I push myself upright, pain searing through my ribs, but I need to be eye-level for this.
“You’re brainwashed.”
Her smile falters. “You don’t understand him. He’s not what people say.”
“He traffics girls, boys, anybody.”
“No—he protects them.” Her voice sharpens. “He keeps the worst ones from getting sold. He weeds out the buyers who hurt them. He says he’s cleaning up the industry from the inside.”
My stomach turns. “There shouldn’t be an industry.”
She flinches like I slapped her. “You don’t know him like I do.”
“I know what he did to Destiny,” I growl. “And if he didn’t kill her himself, he fucking broke her until someone else did.”
Brooke’s eyes flash with something I can’t name—loyalty? Denial? Pain?
“I don’t believe that,” she whispers. “He loved her.”
And that’s when it hits me.
She’s already gone.
He got to her before the world did. Before I did.
She’s not a victim.
Not anymore. She’s a weapon.
“I’m sorry,” I say, quietly.
“For what?”
“For what he’s turned you into.”
She steps back, eyes narrowing. “Damien said you’d say things like that. That you’d try to twist everything.”
“And did he also say he’d put a collar on your neck the second you stopped agreeing with him?”
She doesn’t answer.
She doesn’t have to.
Because deep down, even in that bright little smile and soft voice, she knows I’m right.
But it won’t matter.
Because belief is a powerful drug.
And she’s addicted to him.
* * *
The door creaks open again, and I don’t flinch.
I’ve been waiting.
Wa iting for the monster to return.
Damien steps in like he owns the oxygen in the room. Hands in his pockets. Calm. Relaxed. Like he didn’t just leave me alone with a ghost wearing Destiny’s face.
He shuts the door behind him with a soft click , and for a moment, all I hear is the buzz of the light overhead and my own pulse, steady and furious.
“You two get acquainted?” he asks, tone light. Casual.
Like we shared tea. Like this isn’t a fucking dungeon.
“Fuck you,” I mutter.
He grins and saunters closer. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I sit up straighter in the chair, every muscle screaming, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me fold. Not again.
He leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Ask me something.”
“What?”
“You’ve been waiting for answers, haven’t you? So ask.”
I study him. “Where the Hell is Harmony?”
His brow lifts, amused. “Of course, that’s your first question.”
“You’re obsessed with her,” I growl. “She’s the new Destiny, isn’t she?”
Something flickers behind his eyes.
He doesn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he steps away from the wall and crouches in front of me, expression unreadable.
“She’s not Destiny,” he says quietly. “But… I got attached.”
I glare. “You always do. Like a fucking collector. Take something beautiful, break it, and call the pieces art.”
His jaw ticks. “She reminded me of her. Not the way she looked. Not even how she spoke. Just… the ache. The loneliness. That need to be seen.”
He leans closer. “I’m good at seeing people, Dante. Even w hen they don’t want to be seen.”
I shake my head. “No. You’re good at using them.”
Damien smiles faintly. “Same thing, if you do it right.”
A sick chill coils in my spine.
“You want the truth?” he asks. “Fine. Destiny came with me willingly.”
I blink. “What?”
“She loved me. That was real.” His voice is lower now, softer. “She came with me because I promised her something different. Something better than the lies your family fed her.”
I clench my fists. “She was seventeen.”
“She was desperate. And I was the only one who made her feel like she wasn’t invisible.”
My stomach turns. “So what happened? You get bored? Did she stop obeying fast enough for you?”
His face hardens.
“She betrayed me,” he says flatly. “She crossed a line, I told her never to cross. She went behind my back. And when someone shows you they don’t respect your rules…”
He shrugs. “You remind them.”
“You sold her,” I hiss.
“I gave her a choice,” he snaps back. “She made the wrong one.”
My hands shake with the weight of it.
“She trusted you,” I whisper. “She thought you were her way out.”
“She was ,” he says. “Until she wasn’t.”
The silence thickens. My ears ring.
“You’re sick,” I say.
“No.” He stands slowly, brushing invisible dust from his pants. “I’m necessary.”
I look up at him. “You think Harmony will survive you?”
He smirks. “She already has.”
“What about me?” Brooke chimes in.
Damien freezes, turning his gaze to her.
“What about you?”
“I…I’m yours, aren’t I?” She asks cautiously.
He tilts his head, studying her expression.
“Yes,” he admits.
“Why don’t you treat me like her?”
I roll my eyes. She is fucking brainwashed. She thinks he will love her like he does Harmony. He never fucking will.
Damien stalks over to her, gripping her cheeks tightly between his fingers.
“You want me to treat you like her?”
“Y-yes.”
“On your knees,” he commands.
She quickly drops to her knees before him. Eagerly.
I feel bile rise inside of me. I can’t fucking watch this. I press my eyes shut. The sounds of metal clanking to the floor echoes in my ears.
I hear the wet sounds of Brooke’s mouth taking his cock. It makes my skin fucking crawl.
The sounds blur out as my pulse throbs in my fucking neck. This is worse than any physical torture I have been through.
This is fucking sick.