Chapter 46 Vivian #2
I opened my mouth, but the words that came out weren’t my own. “You shouldn’t have come here. You’re only making things worse.”
Raffaele’s face twisted with pain, and the compulsion surged with a sickening satisfaction. I wanted to scream, to apologize, to tell him it wasn’t me.
But I couldn’t.
Pain shot through my chest, forcing me to clutch at my ribs as I stumbled slightly.
“Vivian.” Raffaele’s dark eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a sliver of hope there. “Look at what he’s done to you.” His gaze raked over my outfit, his face twisting with rage. “You bastard,” he snarled at Izo. “Get her something to cover up.”
Izo chuckled, his hand tightening on my waist. “Don’t you like her new uniform? She has such a fuckable body. It would be a crime to cover that up.”
Raffaele lunged against his chains. “I’ll kill you,” he growled, his voice low and lethal.
His eyes darted to my hand, and his expression darkened further. “Vivian,” he said sharply. “What did he make you do?”
I followed his gaze, realizing too late that the cut I’d made earlier with the steak knife was visible. The hastily bandaged wound was a glaring reminder of my brief rebellion—and my failure.
Izo’s gaze slid to me. “Ah, yes. She’s been testing her limits. But don’t worry, Shadow. She’s learning her place.”
Before Raffaele could respond, Izo nodded to a nearby guard. “Bring the cart.”
A moment later, a guard wheeled a metal cart covered with an array of weapons, from jagged coral blades to wicked-looking tridents, into the chamber.
“Let’s make this a little more interesting,” Izo said, his tone light. He turned to me, his silver eyes locking onto mine. “Vivian, why don’t you help me?”
My body moved before my mind could process what was happening. My hands reached for the cart, trembling as they hovered over the weapons. The compulsion tightened its grip, and I felt my fingers close around a pair of coral blades, their razor-sharp edges biting into my palms.
“No,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes as I fought against the invisible force controlling me. “Please, no.”
The compulsion sent a wave of excruciating pain through my body. My mind screamed in protest, but my hands moved with mechanical precision, arranging the weapons on the cart and stepping closer to Raffaele’s cell.
Two guards seized Raffaele, dragging him forward and holding him tightly as I approached.
“Vivian,” Raffaele said, his voice softer now. “Darling, look at me. You don’t have to do this.”
I wanted to tell him I didn’t want to. That I was screaming inside, desperate to stop. But the words refused to leave my mouth.
The coral blade in my hand caught the light as I raised it, the edge glinting as I brought it down in a slow, deliberate slice across his arm.
He hissed in pain, but his gaze never left mine.
My tears fell freely, streaming down my cheeks.
“Good girl,” Izo said approvingly. “Keep going.”
I fought against the compulsion with everything I had, but it was like trying to claw my way out of quicksand. I was drowning, a puppet in Izo’s game, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
But as I looked into Raffaele’s eyes and saw the unwavering determination there, a single thought burned through the haze.
I have to fight.
Even if it killed me.
The bioluminescent whip that I grabbed from the cart felt alien in my hand, its pulsing, glowing tendrils alive with energy that twisted and coiled like water trapped in a tangible form.
My fingers trembled around the handle as I tried to resist the compulsion pulling me forward.
Every step I took felt like walking underwater, slow and deliberate, but unstoppable.
The compulsion twisted inside me, suffocating my thoughts with anger, fear, and resentment. Izo’s voice was a soft, insidious whisper that repeated over and over in my mind. They don’t understand you, Vivian. They never have. They’re trying to take this from you, but you won’t let them, will you?
“No,” I whispered, but it wasn’t my voice. It was someone else’s, someone I didn’t recognize.
“Vivian!” Camilla’s voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and desperate. She gripped the bars of her cell, her eyes wide with disbelief and pain. “What are you doing? This isn’t you!”
I stopped mid-step. For a moment, her words threaded through the chaos in my mind.
“Think about what you’re doing,” Camilla shouted. “You’re stronger than this. Remember who you are! Remember me. Vivian, please!”
The compulsion flared in response, sending a wave of heat and anger through me that boiled away any clarity I’d felt. My head snapped toward her, and the words poured out before I could stop them.
“You don’t get to talk to me about strength,” I snarled, my voice venomous. “You’re selfish, Camilla. Always thinking about yourself. You don’t care about me. You just want to ruin this for me!”
Camilla staggered back as though I’d struck her. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true. You’re my friend, Vivian. You’re my family. I would do anything for you. That’s why I’m here—because I care about you.”
My chest ached with her words, but the compulsion twisted it, making it ugly. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what I was feeling or who I really was. “You don’t care,” I spat. “You just want to take Izo from me. You can’t stand that I’ve found something better.”
“Vivian,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
The compulsion surged, rewarding me with a sickening warmth that dulled the ache in my chest. I hated it. I hated myself.
I turned back to Raffaele, who was still pinned between the guards, his dark eyes locked onto mine. The whip in my hand came alive, glowing brighter as I raised it.
“Vivian,” he said softly. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
My heart twisted painfully, the compulsion warring with the bond I shared with Raffaele. I didn’t want to hurt him. I wanted to drop the whip, to run to him, to throw myself at his feet and beg for forgiveness.
But I couldn’t.
The whip cracked through the air, the glowing tendrils striking his chest and leaving a searing mark across his skin. He didn’t flinch.
“It’s okay,” he reassured me. “I love you, Vivian.”
The words cut through me like a knife, their weight so heavy I nearly dropped the whip. I raised it again, my movements stiff and mechanical.
“Stop it,” I hissed, though I didn’t know if I was speaking to him or to myself.
Another strike. The whip sliced through the air, its glow intensifying as it bit into his skin.
Raffaele didn’t cry out. He didn’t beg me to stop. He just stood there, his body tense but his eyes unwavering as they stayed locked on mine.
“I love you,” he said again, his voice breaking slightly.
Tears blurred my vision as I struck him again and again, each blow sending a ripple of pain through me as though I were the one being hurt.
“I love you,” he said with every strike, his voice growing softer but never faltering.
The compulsion screamed inside me, a relentless pressure that crushed every thought, every memory, every emotion that wasn’t tied to Izo. But Raffaele’s words, his eyes, his presence—they anchored me, tethering me to the part of myself that was still fighting.