Chapter 16 Chapter 16.

Chapter 16 Chapter 16.
As Aria stood there alone, trembling slightly, Francesca glided towards her, her presence both commanding and mocking. "You're afraid?" she asked, her voice smooth yet laced with a bitter edge.

Aria hesitated, torn between defiance and fear, but chose to stand her ground, refusing to let Francesca's taunts penetrate her resolve. However, Francesca had other plans than being ignored.

"This is to tell you that Mr. Moretti's world has no place for a coward..." Francesca's voice dripped with disdain. "...a coward like you," she added, her eyes narrowing.

Drawing a deep breath, Aria finally met Francesca's gaze head-on. "What is your problem with me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the flurry of emotions. "You barely even know me. We just met yesterday, and yet you already resent me."

Francesca's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "You met me yesterday, but I’ve been watching you since the very first day you dragged your filthy self into the mansion. From that moment, I knew you were trouble."

Aria raised her brow, her curiosity piqued. "And why’s that?" she challenged, narrowing her eyes. "What’s so threatening about me that makes you feel this way?"

An arrogant laugh escaped Francesca's lips. 

"Oh, I get it now," Aria interjected before Francesca could respond. "You’re scared I’d outshine you. Just look at me—it’s already happening." A confident smirk spread across her face.

Furious, Francesca balled her fist, but paused midway, aware of the many eyes that surrounded them. She held her anger in check; a flicker of frustration danced in her expression.

"Go on, hit me," Aria taunted, leaning in slightly. "Do it. Get yourself into the trouble of having to explain why you hit the Don's 'precious bride.'" Her smirk widened, feeling the power shift slightly in her favor.

"The Don's bride?" Francesca scoffed, her laughter short and mocking. "What a remarkable dream you have there." Her eyes glinted with malice. "You’re nothing more than a pawn—merely a slave at your master’s disposal."

Aria's heart raced, but she refused to back down. "Even if that were true," she retorted, holding Francesca's gaze with a calm yet infuriating smirk, "only you knows it. To every other person here, I'm a powerful asset and you... you'll always and forever remain a slave at his disposal."

Taking a step forward, she paused and spoke again, "oh, and thank you for just boosting my morale."

Aria's words hung in the air, a triumphant smile spreading across her face as she walked away. 

Francesca's eyes blazed with fury, her face reddening with rage. For a moment, it seemed like she might lunge at Aria again, but she restrained herself, aware of the audience around them.

Aria stepped outside and was met with a gruesome scene that sent her soul out of her body. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth, trying to suppress the scream that was threatening to escape her lungs. 

A man badly bruised from a lot of beatings, was on his knees, constrained by two burly men.

Aria stood frozen, her heart pounding violently in her chest. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the sight before her. The man on his knees, his face a canvas of agony, was clearly a victim of the more brutal side of this deadly empire. His clothes were torn, revealing skin marred by bruises and blood. The two men holding him possessed a menacing demeanor, grinning as they reveled in their grotesque display of power.

Her heart sank when her eyes took in Lucien who stood a few steps away, arms crossed, watching with a detached interest that sent chills down her spine. His cold, calculating eyes observed every wince and moan of the tortured man with a sense of grim satisfaction. There was a calmness to Lucien that made the scene all the more horrifying, as if he were simply watching an artist at work, rather than partaking in an act of brutality.

Aria instinctively clutched her own arms, feeling the weight of dread settle around her. She knew Lucien's world was ruthless, but to witness it firsthand was another thing entirely. The reality of her situation sank in deeper; this was not just a life she had stumbled into—this was a world filled with darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.

“Don,” one of the spectating men around said, a hint of challenge in his voice. “How much longer do you want to let this play out? He’s already broken. I suggest we just end him.” 

Lucien's gaze flicked to the man, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features. “Maybe it’s time we give him a lesson in loyalty,” he replied, his voice smooth and chilling. 

He stepped forward, eyes locking onto the victim with an eerie intensity. “You see, pain can be a powerful motivator,” Lucien said, a smile creeping onto his lips. “And you, my friend, have failed to understand that.”

Before Aria could comprehend what was happening, Lucien crouched down to the man’s level, pulling out a knife from his belt with a swift motion that caused Aria's stomach to turn. "There's been a knife with him all this while?" She muttered to herself, afraid of the fact that she had unawares walked side by side with death.

The glimmer of the knife's blade under the harsh light was like a flare, drawing her attention in a trance she wished she could break.

“Tell me who sent you here,” Lucien demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “Once, and I might just spare you more suffering.” 

Tremors of fear coursed through the tortured man's body, and Aria could see the fight slowly draining from his eyes. The weight of his suffering hung heavy in the air, and a sense of desperation clung to him like a lifeline—a plea for mercy in the face of insurmountable odds.

“Please… I didn’t mean any harm,” the victim gasped, each word laced with pain, his voice barely above a whisper. The trembling in his lips sent a pang of sympathy through Aria, a stark contrast to the coldness of the scene unraveling before her.

Lucien leaned closer, his smile never wavering. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter what you intended. What matters is your loyalty to the man you thought you could betray.” He ran the blade lightly across the man’s cheek, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

“I'm asking you again, who sent you?" Lucien's voice sliced through the air like a hot steel blade, cold and unforgiving.

“Please, I swear...” the man’s plea trembled in the silence, but before he could finish, a piercing scream erupted as Lucien plunged his knife into one of his eyes. The sound echoed in the air, a harsh symphony of pain.

“For the last time, who sent you?” Lucien demanded, his tone unyielding.

"I'm begging you... please..." the man cried out, desperation spilling over. “I meant no harm.”

Lucien stood up straight, the tension coiling around him like a serpent, and closed his eyes for a brief moment as if lost in thought. Just as Aria dared to hope he might relent, he bent down and cruelly buried the blade into the man’s neck. In an instant, the noise ceased, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake.

Aria’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in horror. It felt as though the cold air of dread crashed down around her, heavy and suffocating, and her entire body trembled. A scream lodged in her throat, lost amid the shock.

In that moment, Lucien turned, and their eyes locked. The deadliness that had once filled his gaze evaporated, replaced by something softer—something startlingly human.