Chapter 24 Raffaele
RAFFAELE
The morning light filtered through the heavy drapes of my office, illuminating nothing but my ever-growing frustration.
I sat behind my desk, the tension radiating off me like heat from an open flame.
My thoughts were a knotted mess full of Vivian.
Her lips. Her taste. The heat of her around me.
Those sexy fucking sounds I’d drawn out of her.
I clenched my fists, willing the memories away.
It wasn’t the first time I’d taken control, broken someone’s defenses.
But it was different when I could feel her emotions as if they were my own.
The bond we shared hummed with every fleeting thought of her.
And gods help me, what I felt went deeper than desire and was more dangerous than anger.
Vivian had gotten under my skin, and I hated it.
A knock on the door snapped me from my spiraling thoughts, and the door creaked open before I’d granted permission.
Jareth, ever the insufferable thorn in my side, strolled in with his characteristic swagger as if he owned the place.
“You know,” he said lazily, inspecting his nails, “for a guy who just got married, you’re not exactly exuding newlywed bliss. Is this the part where you complain about the in-laws?”
I shot him a glare that would’ve sent most men running, but Jareth wasn’t most men.
“If you have nothing useful to say, I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
He chuckled, unbothered. “Oh, but I am useful. I keep the tension manageable. Imagine how dull this room would be without me.”
Before I could remind him of how easily I could permanently silence him, the door opened again, and Altair strode in. His entrance was as precise and polished as the man himself, his dark crimson robes swirling around him like a storm cloud.
I’d called a meeting with him to see what the holdup was.
I’d kept my end of the bargain by marrying Vivian.
Not only was I ready to expand my territory, I was also anxious to gain control over the resources of the Crimson Dominion.
Blood magic, arcane rituals, and alchemical trade…
It would all be under my authority. Perhaps I could use it to put an end to my father and permanently rid myself of his tyrannical reign.
I wanted nothing more than to have that insufferable asshole out of my life.
I also wanted to avoid the curse that plagued my bloodline. For centuries, my family believed only we could wield illusion magic without succumbing to madness, but I had come to suspect that my family was indeed cursed.
Every person eventually experienced mental and physical deterioration due to their powers, and the curse led most to an early death—except for my father, who had bound his soul to an artifact that still eluded me.
While the curse had stayed dormant within me, I feared that one day it would take me too, leaving me vulnerable and weak. The magic in Altair’s territory could have answers of how to avoid that.
“Ah, Raffaele,” Altair drawled. “And Jareth. How delightful. I didn’t realize we were entertaining jesters today.”
Jareth grinned at the jab. “I aim to please.”
“Enough,” I said, waving Jareth off like the annoyance he was.
My attention turned to Altair, my shadows already curling at the edges of the room, responding to the irritation simmering beneath my skin.
“I have fulfilled your request. I’ve married and completed the binding ritual.
I’m ready to take control of the Crimson Dominion.
The time for delays has passed. Wouldn’t you agree? ”
Altair’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s in the works, as we agreed. But I must tie up some loose ends first.”
My shadows slithered closer, brushing the hem of Altair’s robes. “I can help you tie them up.”
“No need. These matters require delicate handling. Handing a territory over to another is no easy task. There’s a certain level of professionalism that’s expected, an easy transition period, if you will. It’s best I see to all matters in relation to the territory absorption myself.”
Jareth chuckled. “Delicate handling? That’s rich, coming from someone who runs a territory on blood and fire. What exactly needs tying up, Altair? A loose potion? A wayward ritual?”
Altair shot him a glare, but he quickly composed himself. “Not everyone solves problems with brute force, Jareth.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jareth said, crossing his arms. “It seems to work just fine for me.”
I thought back to the warning from one of my enforcers that the Crimson Dominion was potentially allied with the Ashen faction. Was Altair hiding something? My gut told me this delay wasn’t simply about logistics.
My patience snapped like a frayed thread. Rising from my chair, I unleashed my shadows, coiling them around Altair and slamming him against the wall. He choked, clawing at the invisible force constricting his airway.
“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you, Altair?” I growled. “You know the consequences of breaking our blood bond. Death may be inevitable for you, but I assure you, it will come far sooner and far more painfully if you betray me.”
Altair’s eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “Raffaele... everything... is going as planned. But not if... you kill me first.”
My shadows hesitated, then let go of him. He dropped to the floor in an unceremonious heap, gasping for air, his hands clutching his throat as I loomed over him.
“Explain,” I demanded, my tone as sharp as a blade.
Altair’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “The alchemical trade and rituals are intricate operations. I need time to ensure a smooth transition.”
Liar. The thought seared through me like fire, but I didn’t press further. Not yet.
“Guards,” I barked. “Escort Altair off the estate. And make sure he knows not to return until he’s ready to fulfill our agreement.”
As the guards entered to drag Altair away, Jareth fell into step beside me, his grin firmly in place. “Well, that was fun. I give it a solid eight out of ten for theatrics. But next time, maybe let me squeeze some answers out of him first. I have a way with people.”
I didn’t reply, though my lips twitched briefly—whether in irritation or amusement, I wasn’t sure.
Jareth nodded and followed Altair and the guards out the door.
Without warning, the shadows in my office deepened. A chill swept through the air, and I braced myself, already knowing what was coming. I didn’t need to look up to feel his oppressive presence, like a storm cloud descending over my carefully ordered world.
My father appeared in the corner of the room, his dark figure materializing as if birthed from the shadows themselves. His eyes gleamed with malice, the same cruel glint I had known all my life, and his smile was a mockery of warmth. He looked at me as though he owned me—in some ways, he still did.
“Ah, my prodigal son. You’ve been busy.”
I kept my expression neutral, though my shadows stirred uneasily. “I handle my affairs as I see fit.”
“Your affairs,” he mocked. “How quaint. Hiring a pretty little enforcer plucked right from Vincenzo’s lap. Taking scraps now, are you?”
The blood drained from my face, though I didn’t let it show. I’d been meticulous in crafting illusions and barriers onto my father to keep his reach from penetrating my estate. But he had still found out about Camilla. How?
His smirk widened as if reading my thoughts. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, boy. Did you really think you could keep secrets from me? I have eyes and ears everywhere. Every whisper in this house reaches me eventually.”
His words were a punch to the gut, but I refused to show weakness. “Camilla’s skills are a benefit to my operation. I don’t take scraps—I take what’s useful.”
“Useful?” he sneered. “You’re playing at being a king when you’re still just a boy playing with shadows. And worse, you’re borrowing from Vincenzo. Taking his leftovers like a little bitch. How pathetic. Have I taught you nothing about strength, about taking what is yours?”
“I don’t need lessons from you,” I said coldly, curling my hands into fists. “Not anymore.”
His low, dangerous laughter filled the room like a dark tide. “Oh, Raffaele,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “You’ve forgotten your place.”
Before I could react, his shadows erupted from the corners, slithering toward me like living nightmares.
They struck with a force that sent me crashing to my knees, driving the wind from my lungs.
Pain flared through my chest as one shadow wrapped tightly around my torso, squeezing until I thought my ribs would crack.
“Is this what you’ve become?” His voice dripped with disdain. “A weak, simpering fool who thinks he can outmaneuver me? You can’t even protect yourself. How can you fucking rule over your territory and those you absorb?”
Fury surged through me, but I couldn’t summon the strength to act.
His shadows lashed at me again, searing pain slicing through my shoulders and back.
I gritted my teeth, trying to dampen the blows and shield myself with my own shadows.
But for some reason, my defenses faltered.
Every strike cut deeper, every wave of agony coming sharper than the last.
What was fucking wrong with me?
I clawed at the floor, my vision blurring as the blood from a gash on my forehead dripped into my eyes. My father’s shadows dragged me up, suspending me in the air like a broken marionette. Another tendril struck my ribs, and I felt a crack.
“You think you can deceive me?” Thorne snarled. “You’ve always been a disappointment, Raffaele. Weak, soft, vulnerable. I should have cast you aside years ago.”
His shadows twisted around my throat, cutting off my air. My vision darkened at the edges, and for a moment, I thought he might kill me here and now. But he loosened his grip just enough for me to drag in a breath, the sound ragged and desperate.
Through the haze of pain, my thoughts drifted to Vivian. At least I had kept her safe from him, hidden away where his cruelty couldn’t touch her. The bond hummed in my mind, a small anchor in the sea of torment. I clung to it even as my father continued his assault.
When he finally released me, I crumpled to the floor, every nerve in my body screaming in protest. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as his footsteps echoed around the room. He crouched beside me, his voice low and full of malice.
“You’ll never be free of me,” he said, his fingers brushing against the bloodied skin of my cheek. “Remember that.”
And then he was gone, vanishing as suddenly as he had appeared. The shadows receded, leaving the room eerily quiet. I lay there for what felt like an eternity, gasping for breath and trying to see through the blood that blurred my vision.
Eventually, I forced myself to move. Every step was agony as I stumbled toward the door, my body trembling with the effort. My mind raced with questions. Why had his torture been so much worse this time? Why had my shadows failed me?
The hallway stretched before me like a cruel joke, the distance to my room impossibly far. I made it halfway before my legs gave out. I hit the cold, marble floor as my vision dimmed. Blood pooled beneath, and every breath I took was labored.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I felt the faint stirrings of the bond. A flicker of warmth and concern. Vivian.
Even as darkness claimed me, I clung to that slight connection. It was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.