Chapter 30
VIVIAN
The knock on my door broke my focus. The rhythmic tap wasn’t exactly urgent, but it demanded attention, nonetheless. I sighed, pushing back from my computer desk. “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and one of Raffaele’s guards stepped inside, a hulking man with an unreadable expression. He carried something wrapped in a towel, holding it with an odd sort of care that piqued my curiosity.
“This is for you,” he said, his deep voice devoid of inflection as he set the bundle on the edge of my desk, then immediately left the room.
I stared at the towel, curiosity and apprehension flashing through me in rapid succession. My heart beat faster as I pulled the fabric aside with cautious fingers. The moment I saw the object inside, I froze.
The Mirror of Truths.
The reflective surface shimmered even in the dim light of the room. Its intricate, ancient frame pulsed with quiet power. My stomach twisted with shock.
He’d actually kept his word.
I had assumed Raffaele would dismiss my request as some trivial curiosity. But here it was, a relic of immense magical power sitting in my bedroom like a casually delivered package.
I picked it up gingerly, keeping the reflective surface turned away from my face.
Even though I had no intention of looking into the damn thing, its reputation was enough to make my palms sweat.
They didn’t call it the Mirror of Truths for nothing.
It revealed truths, unvarnished and often painful—truths you couldn’t unsee.
Once I successfully connected it to NexusCore and had full control over its output, I would feel better about taking a peek.
Carefully, I laid it on my desk, then stared at it as a storm churned in my mind.
Why had Raffaele given this to me so easily?
Was it a test? A show of good faith? Or did he genuinely trust me enough to experiment with an object this powerful?
Trust. The word felt slippery in my mind, like oil on water.
Trust wasn’t exactly something we shared.
Trust wasn’t something he should offer me.
Still, the possibilities the mirror presented were undeniable.
Merging its ancient magic with my NexusCore program could lead to breakthroughs I hadn’t dared dream about.
A hybrid tool that could bridge the gap between the mystical and the technological, combining human ingenuity with the raw, unfiltered truth of the arcane.
I absently tapped my fingers against the edge of the desk as the ideas began to take shape.
The mirror’s ability to unveil hidden truths could be the missing piece I needed to push NexusCore beyond its current limitations.
Together, they could become a system capable of peeling back every layer of secrecy—encrypted data, magical veils, even the lies hidden in human and supernatural minds alike.
If I could digitize the mirror’s reflections, I could translate its revelations into usable data.
I tried to imagine uncovering the deepest secrets in magical texts or decoding the kind of encryption that could stump the world’s most advanced hackers.
It could revolutionize espionage and put me leagues ahead of anyone trying to manipulate or control me.
And maybe, just maybe, it could help me find a way out of this place.
The thought hit me like a lightning bolt, a sudden, exhilarating rush of possibility.
If I could harness the mirror’s power, I could create a tool that would expose the weaknesses in Raffaele’s magic—the wards, the necklace, the very magic that held me captive here.
It could be my ticket to freedom if Izo’s promises didn’t pan out, my way back to Will and the life I’d been ripped from.
I grabbed my stylus and tablet and started sketching rough diagrams of how the integration might work.
NexusCore could serve as the framework, a digital translator for the mirror’s ancient language of truth.
I could build algorithms to categorize and cross-reference its reflections, organize its raw, chaotic revelations into actionable intelligence.
Hours passed in a blur as I worked, my focus so intense that I barely noticed the time passing.
When I leaned back in my chair and stretched my aching neck, I’d made significant progress, but it wasn’t enough.
Something was missing, some key piece of information that would help me bridge the gap between magic and tech.
If there was anything that could give me insight into the mirror’s workings or how to connect it with NexusCore, it would be in Raffaele’s private library.
I stood, casting a wary glance at the mirror before draping the towel back over it. Even covered, its presence was impossible to ignore. Shaking off the unease, I grabbed the books I’d already read and headed for the door.
If I was going to pull this off, I needed every advantage I could get. And if Raffaele’s collection held the answers I needed, I wasn’t about to let anything—or anyone—stop me.
The library was deathly quiet as I slid the bobby pin into the lock. My hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but from the thrill of getting away with this again. The soft click of the lock releasing filled the silence, and I gently pushed the heavy door open, slipping inside.
The familiar scent of old books and varnished wood enveloped me.
I exhaled a quiet breath of relief as I closed the door behind me.
Moonlight filtered through the tall, arched windows, silver shadows dancing across the rows of shelves.
I moved quickly, sliding the books I’d already read back into their rightful places.
Then, I began scanning the shelves for something new, something that might unlock the mysteries of the Mirror of Truths or provide more insight into Raffaele’s twisted world.
I pulled a thick, leather-bound tome from the shelf. The title was in an ancient script I didn’t recognize, but the intricate diagrams on its cover intrigued me.
I had just started to tuck it under my arm when a low, dangerous voice sliced through the quiet like a blade.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Dread froze me on the spot. Inhaling deeply, I slowly turned around. Raffaele stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the light from the hallway. His dark eyes glinted with fury, and his shadows writhed around him like living things, feeding off his anger.
Shit.
“I… I was just—”
“Don’t,” he snapped, stepping into the room. “Don’t even try to lie to me.”
Before I could react, he was in front of me. He grabbed the book from my hands and threw it across the room. It hit the far wall with a resounding thud.
“There are fucking rules,” he growled, his voice laced with venom. “I told you to stay out of here. What the fuck is wrong with you? Can’t you follow simple instructions?”
His anger crackled in the air, so palpable it nearly suffocated me. I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I said, my voice trembling. “I was just looking—”
“For what? What the hell are you looking for, Vivian? What are you hoping to find?”
I scrambled for an excuse, but my mind was completely blank. He took another step closer, his shadowy presence pressing against me like a physical force.
“Maybe,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “you were hoping to be found.”
His voice did things to me. Heat pooled in my belly even as panic surged through me. I raised my hands defensively. “No,” I said quickly, but the desperation in my voice felt like a lie.
His dark eyes bored into mine. His breathing came fast and heavy, the bond thrumming with his rage, his frustration. I could feel it all, the chaos storming inside him, and it wasn’t entirely directed at me. He was fighting to keep something buried.
He placed his hands against the bookshelf on either side of my head, caging me in. I flinched, my body pressing back against the wood as his face came closer, his breath hot against my skin.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he growled. “You think you can just waltz in here, dig through my shit, and walk away unscathed? You think you have any idea what you’re messing with?”
His emotions bled into me through the bond, a volatile mix of anger and fear. Fear? No, it wasn’t fear—not exactly. It was shame. He didn’t want me here because he didn’t want me to know the truth about him, his ancestry, the monster he believed himself to be.
“Well, I already know what you are,” I spat, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “You’re a horrible, controlling piece of shit.”
I shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge. His body was a wall of muscle, immovable and unyielding. I clawed at him, my nails raking across his skin in a futile attempt to get him to back off.
A dark smile twisted his lips, his eyes blazing with a dangerous light. “You want to fight me, Vivian?” he murmured. “Fine. But don’t think for a second that you’ll win.”
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You’re going to learn,” he said softly, his tone almost hypnotic. “You’re going to learn what it means to follow my instructions like a good fucking girl.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, lust and fear coiling inside me. He grabbed my wrist and pinned it against the shelf, his grip firm but not painful. My breath hitched as his other hand trailed down my side, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
“Raffaele, you can’t just—”
“Can’t just what?” he interrupted, his voice dark and silky. “Remind you to whom you belong? Teach you that my words are to be abided by?”
The bond between us flared, his emotions crashing into me with the force of a tidal wave. Anger, yes, but also want—hot and raw and impossible to ignore. And I hated myself for the way my body responded, for the way my breath quickened and my pulse raced.
“I hate you,” I hissed.
His lips curved into a cruel smile. “Hate me all you want. But you’ll still obey me.”