Chapter 13 #2
A helicopter is waiting for us when we land.
Moments later, it sets down on the rooftop helipad of Olympus.
Guards line the perimeter. Men who look as though they were born with weapons in their hands and haven’t smiled since.
One steps forward as we approach. Without a word, Aric rolls back his sleeve.
The scanner passes over the inside of his forearm, emitting a brief violet glow, and a soft chime follows. I catch a glimpse of the screen.
IDENTITY VERIFIED
CLEARANCE α
ACCESS GRANTED
The guard nods and steps aside.
Inside, the corridors seem to go on forever. White stone walls, high ceilings, footsteps echoing off marble like we’re walking through some ancient tomb.
I keep my gaze forward, pace measured, and expression carefully blank.
If I’m terrified—and I am, a little, not that I’d ever admit it—I don’t let it show.
One door stands at the end of the hall. Aric opens it.
The room beyond is already occupied. Nikos is inside, exactly as I remember him—commanding without effort, danger worn like a second skin.
Serena stands beside him, in an elegant black romper, her expression unreadable, carved from the same stone as the walls around us.
And in the center of the room, a man sits bound to a chair, wrists tied behind his back, posture defiant despite the bruising darkening his jaw. His eyes lift when we enter.
I don’t need to be told who he is. I know it must be Domenico.
Nikos rises slowly. “We’ve already concluded the interrogation,” he says to Aric, his tone calm, as if this were a business meeting and not a man’s final hours ticking down.
“He confessed,” Nikos continues. “He betrayed us. He conspired to destabilize an alliance sanctioned by The Gods. He intended to kill—” His gaze shifts and settles on me. “Princess Ayanna.”
The sound of my name in his mouth feels like ice sliding down my spine, but I stand still. I will not give them the satisfaction of watching me flinch.
Aric looks at Domenico, angling his head. “Why?” he asks, his voice low, controlled, far more dangerous than anger.
Domenico laughs, and it’s bitter and hollow like he’s already made peace with what’s coming. “Why?” He tilts his head, looking at Aric with something close to pity. “Because your precious marriage shattered my sister’s heart. You took something from her.”
A deep, cold scoff hums in Aric’s throat. “You don’t care about her heart. All you ever wanted was power.”
Domenico smirks. On his bruised face, the expression looks more unsettling than amused. “Always so clever, my would-be brother-in-law.”
Nikos exhales slowly. “Enough.” He turns to Domenico. “Do you have any last wishes?”
For the first time, something like fear flickers across Domenico’s face. “Spare my sister,” he says, his bravado slipping now. “Chiara knew nothing. She had no part in this.”
Nikos studies him for a long moment, then he shakes his head. “This is not how The Gods work.”
Serena shows no trace of emotion. If watching her cousin beg for his sister’s life costs her anything, she buries it so deep no one in this room will ever find it. I don’t know if that’s strength or survival. Maybe they’re the same thing here.
“You’ve dared not only to make a move against a High Council member, but you’ve also betrayed the Supreme Leader, which carries the highest punishment,” Nikos continues, sounding less like a man and more like the voice of the law itself.
“Your sister will be eliminated. As will the rest of your family. This is the price of betrayal.”
My stomach turns at how casually they sentence people to death, even innocents who had nothing to do with it, but I keep my face still.
Domenico’s gaze flicks to Serena, and that’s when he finally breaks.
“Serena.” His voice is rough now, stripped raw. No more smirking or defiance, only desperation. “Please. Promise me you’ll spare Chiara. And our mother.” His eyes dart between her and Nikos, searching for something—anything. “They’re innocent. They’re family.”
Serena steps forward just enough for her shadow to fall across his shoes.
“I trusted you,” she says, voice steady and cold. That’s the most terrifying part. “I gave you everything because you were family. I vouched for you. I put you on Nikos’s IT team. Gave you access no one else earned. I opened doors for you that men kill for.”
Domenico swallows hard as though realizing the hard truth.
“And you repaid that trust by betraying us,” she finishes. “You didn’t just betray The Gods. You betrayed me.” Her gaze softens for half a second, but not with mercy or pity. With grief. “You brought this on them,” she states. “Not us. And there’s nothing I can do to change that now.”
Domenico’s mouth opens, but closes as though he doesn’t know what to say.
Serena tilts her head, studying him like he’s already a ghost.
“You see, Domenico, you wanted power,” she continues. “But you’ve mistaken that being related to power grants immunity. It only determines how spectacularly you fall when it turns on you.”
Domenico’s shoulders sag. Whatever fight he had left drains out of him. Then his eyes lift again. This time, they find me.
“You made a mistake,” he says, almost pitying. “Marrying a Vold.” His lips twitch into something that might pass for a smile if it weren’t so hollow. “You’ll end up like her, Princess Ayanna.” He spits the title like it’s a joke.
Before I can even fully process his words, Aric shifts beside me.
“Close your eyes.”
I don’t because my pulse pounds so hard it drowns out everything else. Because I know what’s coming next. Because… I am scared.
“Ayanna.” He stresses my name, low and deliberate. “Close your eyes.”
I shake my head. “Aric—”
“Please.” The word shouldn’t sound the way it does coming from him. It shouldn’t exist at all. Yet it slips between us. “Listen to me,” he adds, softer now. “Just this once.”
Something fractures behind my sternum. I close my eyes. Darkness presses in as if I’ve stepped out of the world rather than merely shut it out. My breath comes shallow, uneven, every sense sharpened in its absence of sight. I count seconds.
One. Two. Three.
Then I hear the gunshot. My body jolts on instinct, the sound cracking so close it feels physical, like it splits the air and my chest at the same time. A sharp gasp breaks free before I can stop it, my muscles locking as if bracing for an impact that never comes.
When I open my eyes, blood stains the floor at my feet, spreading slowly, pooling beneath the chair where Domenico’s body has gone slack, his head lolling forward as if exhaustion, not death, claimed him.
And Aric stands with his gun still raised, arm unwavering.
His posture remains immaculate and controlled, as though nothing in this room required more effort than a signature on paper.
It was him.
He fired the shot.
He killed a man.