Chapter 2 Vivian
VIVIAN
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, and I stepped out onto the sixth floor of our building, juggling two grocery bags.
For once, the elevator had actually worked without groaning to a halt between floors—an unexpected blessing in this creaky, temperamental old place.
Vincenzo had insisted on setting us up in a nicer building, but the frugal and money-savvy side of me refused to spend that much on rent, even if I wasn’t the one paying for it.
I adjusted my grip on the bags and made my way down the hallway toward our apartment, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly in the background.
Our cozy apartment wasn’t much, but it was home.
Vincenzo’s generosity—or his mandate, depending on how you looked at it—had landed us here.
While “setting us up” had been more of an order than a favor, I wasn’t about to complain.
The place had everything we needed: natural light that softened the city’s harshness, walls thick enough to muffle the noise of neighbors and traffic, and most importantly, an extra room I’d claimed as my personal sanctuary—a tech haven where I could lose myself in the endless, maddening pursuit of something groundbreaking.
I shifted the bags to one arm, wedging the groceries between my hip and the doorframe as I fumbled with the keys. “Home sweet home,” I muttered, pushing the door open with my foot and stepping inside.
The scent of vanilla and sandalwood greeted me immediately.
It was Will’s thing. He insisted on lighting those overpriced candles everywhere, and I had to admit they did a decent job of making the place feel less like a relic from the seventies.
I set the groceries down on the counter, my muscles aching slightly, and let out a long breath.
Sunlight streamed through the living room windows, painting the mismatched furniture in warm golds and yellows.
I started unpacking the bags, lining up fresh produce, eggs, and Will’s favorite neon-blue soda on the counter. My thoughts drifted to the project I was working as my hands moved on autopilot. I spent every moment, every spare second of my time, consumed with that single idea.
The weeks I’d spent in The Below had reignited the fire that had been snuffed out by years of survival.
Living in Vincenzo’s world, surrounded by magic and technology that coexisted but never truly intertwined, had made me question everything.
Why did the two worlds remain so separate?
Why couldn’t they work together seamlessly?
The barriers seemed arbitrary, archaic even.
What if there was a way to bridge the gap?
The idea had taken root like a stubborn weed.
A program or system that could translate magical energy into digital signals and vice versa.
A way to let human technology and magical constructs communicate as if they spoke the same language.
It sounded impossible, but so did a lot of things I’d seen lately.
I paused mid-motion, staring blankly at the carton of eggs.
It was impossible—at least, it felt that way most days.
The frustrating part wasn’t the lack of technical knowledge.
No, I had the coding, the engineering, and the system’s architecture down to a science.
The problem was magic itself. It didn’t behave the way logic dictated.
It was slippery, chaotic, almost sentient in the way it resisted being quantified or categorized.
Still, I’d been chipping away at it, using every resource I could get my hands on.
Vincenzo had humored me when I asked to borrow some of his ancient tomes filled with spells, runes, and magical theories I barely understood.
But those texts could only take me so far.
Without someone to guide me through the nuances of magic, I was working blind, grasping at threads and trying to weave them into something tangible.
After putting the eggs in the fridge, I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. I had yet to make any real breakthroughs, but I was starting to see how the pieces might fit together. In theory, at least. A shaky, maddeningly vague theory that felt just out of reach.
The soft creak of a door opening yanked me out of my thoughts. My shoulders stiffened, and I turned to see Will shuffling out of his room, his dark curls a mess and his hoodie hanging off one shoulder. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe.
“You’re back,” he said, his voice thick with sleep. “You get my soda?”
Rolling my eyes, I gestured at the neon-blue soda on the counter. “You’re welcome.”
Will gave me a lazy grin and shuffled over to grab the bottle. “You’re the best, Viv,” he said around another yawn as he twisted the cap off. He took a long swig, then leaned against the counter and studied me. “You look tired.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “Really boosting my self-esteem here.”
He shrugged. “Just saying. You’ve been holed up in your office for days. You should take a break.”
I snorted. “Says the guy who spent the entire morning in bed.”
“Hey, I’m preserving my youthful energy. You, on the other hand, look like you’re about to collapse. What are you even working on?”
I hesitated, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. Will didn’t know about the project. Hell, no one did. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him—it was more that I didn’t trust myself. The idea still felt fragile, like saying it out loud might shatter it into a million pieces.
“It’s nothing. Just some stuff I’ve been messing with.”
Will raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been messing with stuff for weeks. What’s going on, Viv?”
I sighed and leaned back against the counter. “It’s… complicated. I’ve been trying to build a program that can bridge human technology and magic. Like, make them compatible. It’s probably a pipe dream, but—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Will held up his hand. “Are you serious? That sounds insane. But also kind of awesome.”
I shrugged, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “It’s just an idea. I haven’t gotten anywhere with it yet.”
Will’s eyes lit up, his sleepiness vanishing as he leaned closer. “It sounds promising. You’re building some kind of magic-computer hybrid thing. That’s so cool. Can I help?”
“You don’t even know what it is,” I said, laughing despite myself.
“Okay, okay. Just promise that when you get it up and running, I get to try it out. Maybe I can be your guinea pig.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Sounds like a plan. Just keep in mind that I may never get it to work.”
He stepped closer, rubbing the back of his neck, his smile melting into a worried scowl. “I know you’re in the zone, Viv, but I need to ask for a favor.”
Shit, I knew that look.
“I need you to get dressed. We’re going to The Below.”
I straightened and crossed my arms. “What do you mean we’re going to The Below? And since when do you dictate my plans?”
He chuckled, but it was tight and nervous. “Okay, look, I need a date for an event tonight. And who better than my favorite partner in crime?”
I narrowed my eyes, my instincts prickling. “What kind of event, Will?”
He hesitated and averted his gaze. “The annual lunar convention. You know, the one where all the big players come to watch the fights, bet on who’ll die first. It’s sort of like a blood-sport gala.”
“Uh-huh.” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to get to the real reason. Will wasn’t the type to drag me into The Below’s underbelly just for a night of entertainment. “And?”
Will sighed. “I, uh... I entered the contest that happens after the fights.”
I blinked. “The what?”
“The contest. It’s the one they hold every year. High stakes, high rewards.” He rubbed his hands together, as if trying to warm them. “You pay to enter, then they give you a riddle. If you answer it correctly, you get the prize money and—”
“Where the hell did you get the entry fee? Last I checked, we were living on canned soup and discount ramen.”
Will’s eyes darted away from mine, just for a second. But it was long enough to confirm the gnawing suspicion in my gut. “You didn’t,” I whispered, dread pooling in my stomach.
“Okay, so... I might have borrowed from our account from Vincenzo,” he admitted, offering me a sheepish grin. “Just a small withdrawal.”
“A small withdrawal?” I balled my hands into fists. “Will, that money was supposed to keep us afloat. I trusted you with it.”
“Relax, Viv. I’ve got it covered,” he said, throwing his hands up defensively. “I’ve coded a program to crack the riddle. It’s foolproof. I’ve been working on this for months.”
“You drained our entire account without even consulting me,” I said. The betrayal cracked my heart. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Will’s grin slipped, and determination took its place.
“I was thinking it’s time I made something of myself.
Time I stopped being the sidekick and started pulling my weight.
This contest is my shot, Viv. The winner not only gets a huge payday, but also gets to work directly underneath a mafia lord, almost like an internship.
And that comes with all the bells and whistles you’d expect for someone living with and working directly under someone with that much power. ”
I pressed a hand to my temple and shook my head. “You idiot. What happens if you lose?”
He hesitated. “Well, that’s the kicker. If you lose... they, uh... they kill you.”
My heart stopped. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“If you don’t solve the riddle, you’re considered a liability after attending the convention.
They can’t risk people who know too much walking around freely.
” His tone was light, like he was talking about losing a bet at poker, but I didn’t miss the fear in his eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he added quickly. “I’ve cracked it.
I know the answer. All I need to do is show up and collect. ”