I shuddered, the cold chains rattling as I instinctively tried to pull away from him, wishing I could shrink into nothingness. His presence was a suffocating weight, and every step he took felt like it pressed that weight further into my chest.
“Why is it,” Salvatore continued, pacing like a predator savoring the moment before it struck, “the moment I released you to your daughter, Mathias, you managed to screw everything up? I should have handled things myself.”
His footsteps echoed menacingly as he turned to face my father, his tone darkening with each word. “Your job was simple—keep Olivia alive. Not scare her half to death. You were supposed to make her feel safe. Comforted. Trusting.” He stopped, his piercing gaze boring into us both. “But what did you do? You scared the shit out of her and showed her exactly who you are—a goddamned villain.”
His words struck like a razor, slicing through the fragile remnants of my resolve. The careful facade we had built over years of manipulation lay in ruins at our feet, destroyed by our hubris. What was once within our grasp now felt impossibly distant, Olivia’s trust as unreachable as a star in the night sky.
“Olivia wasn’t supposed to fear you,” Salvatore hissed, venom dripping from every syllable. “She was supposed to find solace, safety, in your presence. But instead, you threatened her life and the life of her innocent child. You didn’t even try to earn her trust. You forced her to see the truth about who you are. And now?” His voice dropped, cold and final. “There is no going back.”
His tone was final; his words were a judgment without appeal.
As Salvatore’s gaze shifted, I followed it to where my father, Mathias, was bound. Belladonna branches coiled tightly around him, their toxic embrace a grotesque mockery of tenderness. The flowers brushed against his cheeks, their deadly scent a taunting reminder of their lethality. My father’s agony was etched deeply into his contorted features, each twist of pain a grim testament to Salvatore’s cruel sense of justice.
I watched helplessly, swiping at the vermin crawling over my skin, their numbers seeming to multiply with each passing second.
Salvatore’s voice sliced through the suffocating air again, sharp and cutting. “You let Malik see your true nature. I listened to your pleas and allowed you to reunite with your daughter, and you’ve done this with that chance. Now Malik knows you’re a liar. He sees through your facade and knows the darkness you’ve tried to conceal.”
Mathias’ agony was palpable, yet he remained silent under Salvatore’s condemnation. Hopelessness settled like a stone in my chest, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the horror unfolding before me.
“I have been watching you both,” Salvatore continued, his voice thick with anger, “observing as Olivia stumbled upon your conversation and overheard your sinister plans. Until you obtained both blades, your sole duty was to remain the gracious Count Montego, the doting grandfather who earned Olivia’s trust. Instead, you allowed your wrath to boil over, terrifying Malik and shattering the fragile illusion you were supposed to uphold.”
Salvatore’s words cut deeply, each a scathing reminder of how completely we had failed.
“You should have made Olivia feel safe,” he snarled, pacing like a predator in a cage. “You should have shown her a united front, made her believe that you and Alina were her allies, that you were on the right side of this war. Instead, you revealed your true colors, and now everything is in shambles.”
He was right. We had cloaked ourselves in a pretense of kindness, weaving a facade of warmth and familial bonds. But beneath that carefully constructed lie lay a festering darkness we could no longer conceal. Now, it threatened to devour us completely.
“She felt something was not right about you, yet she would still have been an ally if you had done what I asked,” Salvatore hissed. His words were a damning litany of our failures, each one a nail in our collective coffin.
“Now,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and fixing his malevolent gaze on me, “let’s move on to the next question. Where the fuck is Balthazar?”
The question hung in the air, weighted and sharp, with the unspoken promise of more torment.
Mathias remained silent, his silence a testament to our shared ignorance. We didn’t know. We were adrift, tangled in the web of our own making, with only the certainty of Salvatore’s wrath to drag us deeper into the abyss.
The stench of decay clawed at my throat, choking any words that might have bought us time.
“We don’t know,” I gasped finally, my voice hoarse, each word scraping against my dry tongue. The taste of rot and fear mingled as I struggled to force the truth free. Maggots writhed at the corners of my eyes, mouth, and ears, their slimy bodies crawling across my skin. I clawed at my face in frantic desperation, smearing their remains in streaks across my flesh. “We went to the dungeon to retrieve him, but… he was gone.”
Salvatore’s roar erupted, filling the chamber with a sound that was more beast than man. It reverberated through the dank space, shaking more maggots from the ceiling loose.
“We had everything in play!” he thundered, his fury a living, breathing thing. The shadows seemed to swell and tremble, conspiring to amplify his wrath. “And you both ruined it!”
Desperation raked its way up my spine, and a fragile, feigned courage came with it.
“Forgive me, Salvatore!” I begged, my voice trembling, the words hollow even to my ears. “I promise—I’ll fix it!”
Salvatore closed the distance between us, striking my cheek with the force of a thunderclap. The taste of iron flooded my mouth as his fist followed, slamming into my jaw. The pain was sharp, immediate—a jarring reminder of my reality. I was nothing more than an animal, perhaps always had been to him. My skin crawled, still alive with the remnants of the creatures that had clung to me upon waking. Now, my spirit squirmed under his gaze, equally repulsed by his touch and the weight of his contempt.
“I’m so sorry. I promise we’ll make this right. Please, let us go,” I begged, even as self-loathing coiled in my gut. My words felt like bile, and whatever respect I had once held for myself had long since been buried under centuries of servitude and sin.
“Pathetic,” he spat, his disgust dripping from the single word as he turned from me and stalked toward Mathias. With each step he took, the belladonna branches constricting my father tightened further, slicing into his flesh like serpents coiling around their prey. The flowers and berries trembled, their movements eerily synchronized, like a death rattle heralding its victim’s demise.
Mathias gasped for breath, each ragged exhale a testament to his suffering. His face was contorted in agony as if his very skull were in the grip of some invisible vice. His chest rose and fell in erratic, shallow bursts—a heart seizing under the weight of terror, not disease.
“We’ll make it up to you. We’ll regain Olivia’s trust,” he rasped, his words pushed out through clenched teeth.
Salvatore’s laughter rang hollow, devoid of humor. “If my sons were older, I wouldn’t have needed you.”
