“And Malik?” Salvatore settled on the settee, his arms stretched across the back.
Father sat on the opposite side of the settee.
Salvatore removed his arms from the back of the sofa and edged away from Mathias.
“I have Malik wrapped around my finger,” Father said. “He is absolutely clueless in everything. Soon, Balthazar will be imprisoned, and everything will be in our hands. Malik is completely oblivious to my true nature. He thinks I saved him. I followed the plan perfectly.”
Salvatore and I shared a knowing look.
“Are you sure he doesn’t suspect anything about your allegiance to me?” Salvatore prodded.
A dark smirk crept across Father’s face.
“No,” he drawled, relishing the thrill of it all. “I love playing the part of the kindly, beloved count. Once the truth is revealed, Malik and Marcellious will be utterlycrushed. They’ll realize this seemingly sweet old man has betrayed them.” He gestured toward himself. “And, by then, Marcellious will be dead.”
The following words dripped from Father’s lips like molten honey. “Olivia is pregnant and utterly helpless. She’s at my estate in Wales. Roman is too busy nursing his fragile wife to see the danger under his nose.”
His grin widened into a grotesque mask of triumph. “I carefully orchestrated this game of power, placing each piece on the chessboard with precision. Victory is within our grasp.”
Joy bubbled within me, dark and exhilarating. I reveled in the thought of the chaos we would wreak.
“Everything is falling into place,” I whispered, my heart pounding with anticipation and power. The vision of a world cloaked in shadows, bending to my will, filled my mind. A world where I stood above all, the ultimate purveyor of darkness.
Victory will be mine.
My lips curled into a sinister smile.
Father brushed his fingers against the polished, acorn pommel of a familiar dagger strapped to his side. His lips twisted into a sardonic smile.
My heart raced as I saw the gleaming knife. It seemed to beckon me, whispering seductively in my mind. I felt a sudden urge to grip it tightly, to feel its weight and power in my hand.
“I brought it,” he said, the words laced with triumph as he stood and extended the weapon toward me.
“My dagger!” I held the dagger like a mother might embrace her beloved newborn. It gleamed ominously in the dim light of the study, its edge promising deceit and disruption.
“Now that you’ve brought Alina’s dagger back to her,” Salvatore said, “it’s time to bring our plan to motion. And, so, Mathias, you have my permission to travel back to your estate with Alina. You shall depart at the full moon.”
“How will I explain my long absence?” I asked, my voice trembling with uncertainty. “Olivia saw Balthazar stab me outside our shop in Seattle.”
My father held up a slender finger. “We have already set a story in motion. Timehunters captured you. Since Olivia was unaware of their existence and her own abilities, her mind would have deceived her into believing she had witnessed your murder. All we must do is sow seeds of doubt in her memory. I have also convinced Lee of the story’s truth. He will support it without question. Don’t worry, my dear. We have thought of everything. Go to Olivia. She will be uncertain, disoriented by your sudden presence.”
He leaned closer, the scent of his ambition as heady as the darkest incense. “Keep her off balance. That’s where we need her.”
I nodded, understanding the gravity of the task at hand. With her unwavering determination, Olivia now carried the vulnerability of her condition—a weakness to be exploited.
“We want her to focus on you, not her quest to find the moon dagger,” he said, his gaze sharp and calculating. “Youwill be the key to finding the next blade—not Olivia and her insipid companions.”
The mission was clear. I would infiltrate their ranks, a serpent in Eden, weaving distrust and discord until they were too entangled in their suspicions to see the real threat. It was more than subterfuge; it was artistry, and I would paint their downfall with strokes of calculated chaos.
“What if our plan falls apart? What if everything goes wrong?” I blurted out, fear taking a sudden and powerful hold of my heart.
Salvatore’s dark eyes snapped to mine. He drew back his hand as if ready to strike me for daring to question our carefully crafted plan. I flinched and closed my eyes, bracing for impact.
Instead, he let out a terrifying roar that echoed through the room. “What are you so afraid of?”
“What if Zara or Lazarus come back?” I asked, trembling. “What then?”
My gaze darted to my father. His expression conveyed a warning directed at me—Watch what you say. I nodded and turned my attention back to Salvatore.
