Chapter 34 - A Shattering Revelation

The tension in the air was suffocating, thick and charged with a thousand unspoken words. Edward’s hand hovered in front of me, a lifeline that seemed so fragile compared to the oppressive weight of Lucian’s presence.

“Seraphina,” Edward whispered, his voice trembling with desperation. “Come with me.”

Behind me, Lucian stood unmoving, his posture rigid, but his silence was more dangerous than any words he could have spoken. I glanced at him, my pulse racing as his eyes bore into mine—a storm of possessiveness and rage.

I opened my mouth, trying to summon the courage to speak, to break the stalemate between us, when the sharp, frantic knock on the door shattered the tension.

Lucian’s head snapped toward the sound, his expression darkening instantly. Without a word, he strode to the door, his movements swift and predatory. Edward took a cautious step closer to me, his hand brushing mine as if to shield me.

The door swung open, and there stood Isolde, her face bloodied, her dark hair disheveled, and her eyes blazing with fury, Edward fell to the ground shaking in panic.

“Isolde, what the hell?” I gasped, my voice barely audible.

She didn’t acknowledge me. Her entire focus was on Lucian, her breathing ragged as she stormed past him into the room. “You bastard,” she spat, the venom in her voice slicing through the air.

Lucian shut the door behind her with a deliberate slowness, his calm demeanor masking the tension in his shoulders. “You're alive, what an unpleasant surprise,” he said, his voice cold. “Did you come here to die or are you just trying to scare your beloved Edward?”

Isolde turned on him, her expression twisted with rage. “You really think you’re untouchable, don’t you?” She took a step closer, her hands clenched into fists. “But you can’t keep your lies buried forever, Lucian. Not this time.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice shaky.

Isolde’s gaze flicked to me, her expression softening for a brief moment before hardening again. “You don’t even know, do you?” she said, her voice filled with bitter disbelief. “He’s been keeping you in the dark, feeding you lies while he plays puppeteer with your life.”

“Careful,” Lucian warned, his voice low and lethal.

“Or what?” Isolde snapped, stepping into his space. “You’ll kill me like you killed Isabella?”

The name was a slap to the face. My breath caught, and I instinctively looked at Lucian, searching for a denial in his expression. But his face was a mask, cold and unyielding.

“Isolde,” Lucian said, his tone deceptively calm. “You’re upset. I suggest you leave before you say something you’ll regret.”

“I regret nothing,” she hissed, turning to me. “He’s the reason she’s dead, Seraphina. And he’s the reason you lost your memories in that accident. Did he ever tell you that?”

“What?” I whispered, the ground beneath me feeling suddenly unstable.

Edward stepped forward, his voice trembling with anger. “What is she talking about, Lucian? What accident?”

Lucian’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to me with a flash of something I couldn’t quite place—was it regret? Pain?

“Tell her, Lucian,” Isolde demanded, her voice rising. “Tell her how Isabella died because of your damn mafia war. Tell her how you used her—just like you’re using Seraphina now.”

“Enough!” Lucian’s voice cracked like a whip, the force of it making me flinch. He turned to Isolde, his eyes blazing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough,” she shot back. “I know you’ve been lying to her since the day you dragged her into your world. You didn’t save her, Lucian. You destroyed her life.”

The room spun, Isolde’s words crashing over me like waves, each one more devastating than the last. “Is it true?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Lucian, is any of this true?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze locked on Isolde as if he could silence her with sheer willpower. But when he turned to me, his expression softened, the hard edges of his anger giving way to something more vulnerable.

“Seraphina,” he began, his voice low, “it’s not as simple as she’s making it seem.”

“Then explain it to me,” I demanded, my voice rising. “Because I’m tired of being kept in the dark. I deserve the truth, Lucian.”

Lucian’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“The accident that took Isabella’s life,” he said slowly, “wasn’t random. It was retaliation—against me. Isabella was… collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “She was your girlfriend, Lucian. How could you let that happen?”

“I didn’t let it happen,” he snapped, his composure cracking. “Do you think I wanted her to die? Do you think I don’t feel the weight of that every single day?”

“But you didn’t tell me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You let me think it was just some tragic accident. Why?”

Lucian’s gaze dropped, his shoulders tense. “Because I didn’t want you to remember what happened to you that night. I didn’t want you to carry that weight.”

“What happened to me?” I asked, dread coiling in my stomach.

He hesitated, his silence speaking volumes.

“You were there,” Isolde said, her voice softening as she looked at me. “You were in the car with Isabella when it happened. She died on impact, but you…” She swallowed hard. “You survived. Barely.”

I stared at her, the room spinning around me. Flashes of memory—blurred images, the sound of shattering glass, the sensation of pain—flickered at the edges of my mind.

“And he used it,” Isolde continued, her voice bitter. “He took advantage of your memory loss, used it to make you dependent on him. He’s been controlling you ever since.”

“That’s enough,” Lucian growled, his voice dangerous.

But I couldn’t stop the flood of emotions overwhelming me—anger, betrayal, confusion. “Is that true, Lucian?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Did you use me?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Seraphina,” Edward said, his voice gentle as he stepped closer. “You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to let him control you anymore.”

“Don’t,” Lucian said, his voice low and warning. “Don’t make this worse, Edward.”

“Worse?” Edward snapped. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Stop it!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Just stop!”

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was being pulled in a hundred different directions.

“I need to think,” I said finally, my voice barely audible. “I need to be alone.”

“Seraphina—” Lucian began, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill. “Just… don’t.”

Without another word, I turned and walked out the door, leaving Lucian, Edward, and Isolde behind. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I needed to get away—to find myself in the midst of the chaos.

And for the first time, I felt the weight of my

choices—past, present, and future—settling on my shoulders like a burden I wasn’t sure I could carry.