Chapter 53 Raffaele
RAFFAELE
Icast an illusion over Vivian before we left the room so that her form melted seamlessly into the air around her. No one else would see her.
The bond between us pulsed with her trust, though I could feel the nervous energy coursing through her. Her hand in mine was the only proof of her presence, her warmth grounding me as we walked through the winding halls of the estate.
“Are you sure about this?”
Vivian’s grip on my hand tightened. “Don’t doubt me now, Raffaele. We don’t have a choice. This ends today.”
She carried the Mirror of Truths and her laptop under one arm, her stride steady despite the enormity of what lay ahead. Her resolve radiated through our bond, steel laced with the unmistakable undercurrent of fear. It mirrored my own emotions, though I couldn’t let mine show.
The heavy oak door of my private library groaned as I pushed it open. The scent of old parchment and leather filled the air. The smell had always brought me comfort. Today, it felt ominous.
Vivian released my hand and headed straight for the bookshelf in the corner. I watched as she traced her fingers along its edge.
“Here,” she said. “You need to touch it.”
I stepped forward hesitantly. My hand hovered over the ornate woodwork of the bookcase. Taking a deep breath, I pressed my palm against it.
The mechanism groaned to life, the bookcase sliding aside with a grinding sound. Beyond it, I saw a stone wall etched with ancient runes. The air was colder, heavier, charged with an unmistakable residue of dark magic.
Vivian stepped closer, her eyes scanning the runes. “It’s just like the vision. Touch it, Raffaele.”
I did as she said, placing my hand against the icy surface of the stone. The wall trembled beneath my palm before sliding to the side, revealing a steep, dark staircase descending into shadow.
We exchanged a glance, and I could see the determination in her eyes. Wordlessly, we began our descent.
The chamber at the bottom of the staircase was thick with the scent of ancient magic and damp stone. The walls seemed to drink in the bluish light from the enchanted sconces, which cast eerie, distorted shadows.
A pedestal carved from polished obsidian stood in the center of the room, its surface gleaming like a dark mirror. A porcelain doll with eerie, lifelike eyes, lay on top of it. A hum of energy—low and foreboding—emanated from it, the magic so thick it felt as though it would choke me.
Recognition slammed into me. “Giulia,” I whispered, my voice breaking on the name.
The doll had belonged to my younger sister.
Its presence here was an impossible, horrifying revelation.
Memories of her laughter, her innocence, flashed through my mind, colliding with the cold reality of what I was now certain of.
My father had sacrificed her—her soul, her essence—to maintain our family’s pact with the goddess.
Then, he had bound his soul to this vessel.
Vivian moved to stand beside me, her hand brushing against my arm. “Raffaele,” she said softly, pulling me back from the abyss. “What is it?”
“It’s hers. This doll… it was Giulia’s. He sacrificed her. He… he killed his own daughter.”
My hand trembled as it hovered over the porcelain figure. The energy radiating from it was dark and consuming, but I needed to touch it, to confirm what I already knew.
Before my fingers could graze the doll, a biting voice echoed through the chamber.
“Well, well,” it drawled, sending a chill down my spine. “My prodigal son dares to descend into the depths of his own inheritance.”
I turned sharply, my shadows coiling around me instinctively. There he stood—Lord Thorne. His presence was as imposing as ever, his dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and malice.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment, Raffaele?” he continued, stepping closer with deliberate, measured steps. “Watching, knowing it would come? You’ve always thought yourself clever, but here you are—fumbling for power you barely understand. Pathetic.”
“Father,” I spat, my voice laced with venom. “You are a fucking coward.”
He chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating through the chamber.
Taking a step closer, his gaze shifted to the doll.
“You think you can destroy me, boy? That porcelain trinket won’t save you.
Do you truly believe the magic I weaved can be undone with a simple touch?
You inherited my blood, my magic, my legacy, but not my strength. You are nothing without me.”
“Wrong,” I snarled, stepping between him and Vivian, my shadows writhing with newfound power. “I am everything without you.”
He tilted his head, his smile sharp and condescending. “We’ll see about that.”
My father failed to realize I wasn’t the boy he had molded in his image. I was the man who had risen above him, the man who had chosen love and loyalty over power and fear.
And I would end him.
I took my opportunity and lunged for the doll.
It felt fragile beneath my fingers, its porcelain surface unnervingly smooth as I snatched it from the pedestal.
Dark energy coursed through my hand, a last desperate defense woven into its cursed existence.
My father’s laughter echoed through the chamber as I dropped the doll onto the cold stone floor.
With every ounce of my rage, I stomped on the doll’s head, shattering its delicate features into a spray of jagged fragments. The room shuddered, a deep tremor shaking the stone walls, but my father’s laughter only grew louder, more maniacal.
“You fool!” His voice reverberated like a thunderclap. He stepped closer, his dark robes billowing as if carried by an unseen wind. “Did you truly think it would be that easy? A single stomp, and I’d vanish into the void? Pathetic.”
I gritted my teeth, my shadows rippling around me in defiance. “You bound your power to this thing! It’s done!”
“Is it?” he sneered, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’ve inherited my blood, Raffaele, but you lack my understanding. This is merely a vessel, a distraction for the likes of you—a child playing with forces beyond his comprehension.”
I braced myself as his power surged, the air growing colder with his wrath. He raised his hand, and a jagged wave of energy crashed into me, slamming me into the stone wall. Pain ricocheted through my body, but with my full power restored, I absorbed it, gritting my teeth against the impact.
“I am no child,” I spat, pushing off the wall, my shadows roaring to life. “I am your end.”
Across the room, I could see Vivian. Though still hidden by the illusion I had cast, she was as clear to me as if she stood in the open.
Her expression was a mixture of fear and determination, her gaze darting between me and my father as her fingers danced over her laptop’s keys.
In her lap, the Mirror of Truths gleamed faintly, reflecting her focused eyes.
Our bond pulsed, her worry surging into me. I could feel her desperate desire to help, to find a way to tip the scales in my favor.
Then her eyes widened.
“Raffaele! Your blood!”
My father’s head snapped toward her voice, his eyes narrowing with dangerous clarity. The air grew heavier, darker, as his fury turned toward her.
“Ah,” he hissed, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Your little human wife. What a mistake it was to bring her here. You’re even more of a fool than I thought.”
I moved to shield her, my shadows flaring defensively, but his attention was locked on her presence. The illusion didn’t matter now—he knew she was there.
My father’s voice grew cold, venom dripping from every word.
“Look at you. Desperate, weak, clinging to notions of freedom. Did you think she made you stronger? That human girl you tethered yourself to? She made you soft, Raffaele. She made you vulnerable. And for what? To watch her break under the weight of our world? You’ve already failed her. ”
“Shut the fuck up,” I roared, my shadows lashing out, forcing him to step back.
But he wasn’t finished. He tilted his head, his gaze dark and calculating. “I shouldn’t have sacrificed Giulia. She was strong. Stronger than you’ll ever be. I should’ve sacrificed you instead. You were always the weakest link, Raffaele. Always the one destined to fail.”
The words cut deep, not because I believed them, but because they carried the truth of the cruelty he had inflicted on our family. On my innocent sister. My hands clenched into fists, my power rising with my anger.
Vivian’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “Your blood, Raffaele! The mirror showed me—you need your blood to destroy it.”
I turned toward her, her words slicing through the chaos. The answer had been in front of me all along. My blood—his blood. The link that bound us to this twisted legacy.
My father’s expression darkened further, his sneer etched into his face. “And what will you do with that knowledge, boy? Bleed yourself dry? It won’t matter. You are nothing without me.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I am everything in spite of you.”
The room pulsed with an unbearable tension as my father prowled around, trying to find Vivian as she shifted quietly around the room. His voice dripped with venom as he taunted us. “You think hiding her will save her, boy? She’s as good as dead, and you’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
His words grated against my resolve, but I refused to rise to his bait.
My focus locked on the shattered remains of the doll on the cold stone floor.
The lifeless porcelain fragments shimmered under the eerie light of the chamber.
That cursed thing had been the key to his immortality, a mockery of life—and of death.