Chapter 156

I continued. I continued. I kept going.

Pain. Pain. And pain.

Until a louder moan broke free, and the bullet came out. My anger was enough to tear the other side of the dress and tie it tightly on his leg.

I leaned back, and as if my bronchi had stopped working in the last few minutes, I inhaled the air forcefully, expanding my chest to the limit. I breathed like never before. As if it was much more than a vital necessity.

"I did it. It's done," I whispered.

Dante was exhausted. His body was so limp, but as soon as I removed the gag from his mouth, he gave a faint smile.

"Good girl," he proclaimed, his voice faltering.

I ran my hand over his face. I decided to get up and search for a bathroom in the hallway. It was easy, as there was one right in front of the room where we were. I couldn’t carry the water to him, so I used the skirt of my dress as a support.

I ran to him, trying not to spill the little water I had. When I got closer, using one hand as a support and the other as a scoop to bring the water to his mouth. I did this little by little, carefully.

I repeated the same path several times, the same movements, ignoring the dead body as if it didn’t deserve my attention.

Dante needed me. Everything I was capable of offering him.

"And now?" I asked, terrified of the next step.

He needed help. A specialist.

"You’ll leave."

"But Dante?"

"Soon, someone will come to get me, and you can’t be here, okay?" he said gently. "Please, Emília. Go."

"But I can’t leave you like this, here..."

The smell wasn't intense yet, but the situation weighed down the atmosphere and affected my senses.

"You can and you must. Go. People must have arrived to get everyone out of here."

I analyzed him from top to bottom.

I was scared. Shaking.

"My parents will be able to help you. They can save anyone and..."

"Emília!" His shout was louder than a thousand gunshots. "Can you, just once, listen to me?"

"But Dante..."

"You have to leave. Please." He was pleading. Gasping, he begged as if his life depended on it. "Do this for you."

My heart lodged in my throat, stopping me from saying more than I already had. My crying was uncontrollable, salty on my mouth. I could see part of his face in the shadows, and the light that reflected a little of his features frightened me.

I felt as if that sight was the last one I would have of him, and the thought of it being true forced my body to stay by his side.

"You’re not going to die, are you?" I asked, terrified.

My chest flared when he just shook his head but couldn't speak.

What was he going to do?

"Take the lantern with you," he ordered.

I took the object.

"Please, don’t deceive me," I whispered, kissing his cheek. "I need you. My angels need you."

Still unsteady, I stood up. I moved away reluctantly. I tried to control my tears, but it was hard.

Especially when I heard the faintest whisper of death.

"I'm sorry, Emília."

***

POV Dante

"Let go of me!" Gray yelled, struggling against the air as if it were about to hit me.

I pulled her into the cell, locking it immediately before she could escape. Her hands gripped the bars, and she shook them, though even the slightest movement wouldn't jeopardize my goal.

"You can't lock me in here, you bastard!" she continued yelling.

My ears were already tired of her voice at such high decibels.

"Would you prefer being tied up like last time? Because I think you liked it since you disobeyed me," I snarled.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Don't act like you're my owner!"

"Do I look like someone who does charity?" I mocked. "You'd be a very well-behaved girl if I laid my hands on you."

"I'm going to scream so everyone can hear!"

"Go ahead. Or do you want me to help you?" I taunted.

"You idiot! Son of a bitch!"

I ignored her, avoiding looking at her face again so I wouldn't lose my temper. I was in a state that couldn't be measured. I didn't know if it was excessive anger, mental exhaustion, or incompetence. My body pulsed and burned with a feeling far stronger than I was.

However, my clenched fist was thirsty to hit a certain face. Emília had been placed in a situation that hadn't been planned. Nothing that had happened in the last few days should have unfolded this way. We wanted a map, and we would find it, but not by locking Gray in our base, revealing our identities, where we lived, and who was with us.

It had been a slip-up that not only put us at risk but also her. She was a target the moment she recognized us. And anyone in her position would already have their brains being eaten by insects.

I climbed the stairs with Emília's screams and the sound of the bars being pulled apart. When I arrived in the meeting room, where the four of them were waiting, I impulsively grabbed Asher by the collar of his T-shirt and slammed him against the table.

He was much stronger than me. There was no doubt about that. The guy was our fist, and one punch from him could kill someone.

His athletic build and nearly two-meter height were a huge advantage on the battlefield, but our bloody side was distinct. I was more violent, though much more rational. I was the boss of this shit, so respect for me was supreme, even in death. We had a pact tattooed on our skin.

I was the law within these walls. They had trusted me to guide them.

"Why the hell did you interrogate her without talking to me first, Hawthorn?" I asked through clenched teeth, pressing him harder against the table.

"We need that damn map."

"That she doesn't have, damn it! You can't take charge without talking to us. Your intuition was so shitty that it put an innocent person in the line of fire. Now we've started another war with people we shouldn't have when we have shit to deal with first, fuck!"

"You could have left her to die," he spat, circling his hand around mine, still pulling his collar with force. "You could, but you don't want to. We've missed several targets. This isn't the first time."

"We don't kill people who aren't from the Factory."

"You’ve pulled that weapon more times than you ever have in your life since she showed up, and most of the bodies we've cleaned were people who weren’t from the Factory," he jabbed. "I fucked up, just like you when you decided to reveal yourself to her. You could’ve just let me finish this, but you didn’t want to because you wanted her to know you’re still alive. That you still have power over her. That she was never left alone. Your shit is as big as mine."

My blood boiled.

"She would add two and two and get there. Emília’s not stupid."

A dangerous smile spread across his lips.

"Then let’s kill her."

I lost control of my muscles for a few seconds, which allowed Asher to break free from me and escape the trap.

"She’s getting in our way," Cole began, sitting down on the bench and turning on the monitors.

Our cameras were activated, and Emília on the screen caught my attention. She was still furious but much calmer than before. I didn’t want to lock her up, but I needed space to think, and with her loose, it would only bring more trouble.

"Asher fucked up, but we need to do something about this," Van Doren continued. "If she doesn't have the map, or anything to offer us, we should eliminate her. Like you said, we’ve had to kill people we shouldn’t. Starting a war with Christian Norman would be the worst moment when we’re hunting down the new Section. Because of her, this could happen."

"Shit, I know," I muttered, almost growling.

"Tell the truth," Jaxon spoke up, capturing everyone's gaze, even Vance, who seemed more bored than interested.

"We don’t talk about the Domain," Cole retorted. "It’s our rule. Everything that happens here stays here. We don’t let anyone in, and we don’t let anyone out. You agreed, just like all of us."

He displayed the mark on his wrist. The X was carved in blood, cutting through our skin on a sacred night.

Sic Infit.

That was the day we condoned everything. The day we accepted our fate. The day we decided that revenge was bigger than our lives.

Jaxon shook his hair, inhaling deeply.

"Emília might be useful," he added.

"Useful for what?" Asher asked, lightly tapping his fists on the table. "If even her damn parents didn’t give her the map, there’s nothing she can offer us."

"She must know something. She must have something," Jaxon defended.

I drummed my fingers on the table, my skull throbbing from so many thoughts going back and forth.

"The only thing she has is a lack of intelligence," Cole spat. "Besides, her parents' inheritance won’t be in her hands until she’s twenty-one. Which is impossible, because I expect her to be silenced before then."

"Who told you that?" I asked, frowning.

"Someone."

Jaxon laughed as if it were all just a childish game.

"So, she’s going to get the map after turning twenty-one, is that it?" he kept laughing, while the three of us exchanged glances and put together a puzzle so easy to understand.

"And where the hell is this damn inheritance?" Asher was getting agitated by the whole debate. I knew he was itching for an end, just like Cole. "Isn’t it with her family?"

"Emília doesn’t have family. She’s alone." I growled, watching her sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling. "The people who helped her after her parents’ death were from Kayleen Cullbert's family, but they only have frozen money. The map is probably with someone her parents trusted."

"You want to wait until she turns twenty-one to get the map?"

"Seven months left," Jaxon informed.

Cole laughed mockingly.

"You’re kidding, right? I’m against this shit. She’s already caused damage in less than a week. Imagine in months? Who’s to say this girl will keep her mouth shut during this time? We’re not amateurs. Fuck. We’re not going to trust Gray because of that shit from four years ago. We can’t stop our hunt to wait for that damn girl to have a degree in hand."

"It’s like a plan B." Jaxon crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "It won’t get in our way."

"What a shitty plan B," Asher sighed, tilting his head back. "She won’t accept it. Gray wants the captain’s head. Wasn’t that what she said?"