Chapter 163

"What do you want with all of this? After telling me you would kill my parents whenever you wanted, what do you expect from me?"

He didn't back down.

"I want you to give us the map in case we can't find a way to get to the new Section." I stared at him, confused. "Your inheritance must come with that map. I don't know where it is, and you probably don't know either."

"I'll only have it when I turn twenty."

"I hope you keep breathing until then. We’re counting on you. You’re our Plan B in case nothing works out."

"And what makes you think I'll give you something that belongs to me?"

He was angered by the word, but I wasn’t going to back down. As much as the map was a symbol of something perverse, I still wouldn’t give it to just anyone after learning what happens beneath the falsehood of this city.

"You'd be worse than any of us. As much as I don't want to help anyone, the consequence of the deaths of anyone who’s part of the Factory is advantageous. It frees victims, reduces trafficking, and disappearances. Or do you think it's all black and white?"

He was right.

I couldn't keep something to myself that could also help thousands.

I tightened my body even more.

"I'll give you the map, and then what happens? I can't move on. You said it. I can report you. I can reveal each of your identities."

Dante decided to reduce the distance between us.

My chest thumped as his scent began to fill my brain.

His eyes never left mine for a second. Dante enjoyed watching my soul cry out in pain.

"I'll give you what you want the most: my death."

My mouth opened just enough to absorb a little air.

"Is that the deal? Wait until I turn twenty-one, give you a map that might not even be with me, and I can kill you? Just like that?"

"Yes."

I couldn’t interpret exactly what I was feeling.

"How do I know you’ll follow through?"

"I've always kept my promises, Gray. That's why we're here."

"My life isn't at risk for being associated with you?"

He almost laughed.

"Nobody from the Factory wants to kill you, except for us. And, of course, Torman, who thinks you might end up interfering."

"I need to think," I concluded, sitting back down, the pain in my head growing stronger.

"Think and come to the conclusion that it’s by my side you want to be."

He moved toward the door, ready to leave, while I stayed there, contemplating everything that was happening.

"But, Gray, for some reason, if you can't kill me, I'll kill you," he continued, before leaving. "One of us will have to fall."

The door opening and closing was the push my heart needed to start functioning again.

I was lost, yet with several options.

And all of them had one end: my fall into hell.

***

Four years ago

I had been at Kayleen's house for five days.

More specifically, in her room.

I had no desire to go out and see the daylight. The most I would do was open the blinds and be greeted by the other building.

Kayleen didn't insist, nor did her parents. They accepted my lack of will and the time I needed to process everything that had happened.

Everyone in the city already knew. The gossip was spreading. The speed at which rumors were running was frightening. Cullbert didn't hide it from me. As soon as she found out that Dante was the prime suspect and that he had been the one to organize and carry out the attack, she came to talk to me.

She was worried about me getting upset, but my best friend just hugged me and apologized. Kayleen wasn’t to blame for my stupidity, but she wanted to share it with me.

It hurt so much.

It hurt to be betrayed and realize I chose the wrong person to cry on.

Her parents advised me to see a psychologist. I could see the judgment on their faces when they found out I was still in contact with a damn murderer. Still, they tried to hide it, though it wasn’t very successful.

Another problem, besides my shaken mental state, was how I would live. I was homeless, broke, without parents... I was too young to inherit anything. My parents had made sure that I would only inherit something once I turned twenty-one.

I wanted to laugh when they read the will to me.

I wanted to cry when I realized they had assumed they’d live long enough to see me reach that age.

Now, I had nothing.

Not even a heart.

The phone vibrated just as I was putting my feet on the floor to get out of bed. Grumbling, I looked at the screen and failed to take the next breath.

Dad.

It was impossible for my father to be calling me. I hadn’t seen his body, nor my mother’s, because they wanted to spare me. The funeral wouldn’t be until the following week, after the autopsy was fully completed.

But at that moment, I had a call from him to me.

I answered cautiously, my chest pounding against my spine.

"Who is it?"

Silence.

The silence triggered me.

"Whoever is making this call, please don’t do it again. It’s not funny."

"I’m not laughing, Gray."

I gasped the moment I recognized the voice.

Chills ran down my spine, and I almost toppled over to the side as if it would relieve the pain that had begun in my back.

"Dante...?"

"Yes."

Breathing was no longer an involuntary act. It was self-destructive.

"My God... You... How?"

"That question is a bit broad for the last five days."

His sarcasm was a kick to my stomach.

"You’re using my father’s phone... Why?"

His silence lasted.

"You know the answer."

I stood up suddenly, pacing back and forth, almost digging a hole.

"I don’t know. Damn it, I don’t know anything. I need to hear you. I need you to tell me, Dante."

My breath was becoming erratic. Many words wanted to come out, but I swallowed them and rethought.

"You shouldn’t be asking anything from a guy who ruined your life."

I shook my head, nervous.

"Dante... Please, tell me."

"Don’t beg, Emília. Don’t beg me," he said seriously. There was no trace of emotion. Dante was an apathetic man on the call. "You should’ve hung up as soon as you heard my voice."

"Why did you call if you were expecting this?"

"Because I needed to prove the hatred you have for me."

It soured me to hear what he said.

The evidence was getting clearer before me. It was becoming more real.

I didn’t want to deal with it. With this truth.

"Dante... Did you kill my parents?"

Three seconds was the time it took him to respond.

"I warned you. I would destroy your life."

Each word he said was like a piece of my organ being removed.

It was every damn signature I made at the notary when I condemned myself to have my heart chained to Dante forever.

"It’s a lie, isn’t it? Please, tell me."

I swallowed every tear that fell. I was already screaming. My voice was wavering in pitch because of the rage.

He didn’t say anything else.

His silence became gunpowder in my veins.

It hurt. It burned. It killed.

"Dante..."

I was breaking.

Falling.

Breaking. Falling. Falling. Falling.

"Dante!"

Nothing.

He stayed on the other end, but in silence.

"Dante, damn it! Please! Tell me it’s a lie!"

I was begging for anesthesia. I was begging for him to kick away the feeling of betrayal. For him to keep the idea that life was beautiful and rare by his side. I was pleading for him to kill the loneliness and give my heart back. Because I had given him everything I had. I had given Dante far more than I ever thought I was capable of having. I had loved him with every cell of mine, dead or alive.

And he killed me with every piece of him that was corrupted.

"Please!"

"Goodbye, Emília."

He hung up.

He hung up, opening a hole inside of me.

He hung up, leaving the emptiness to embrace me. Offering me loneliness as a gift from Death.

Because it was worse. Dying was a better choice than being betrayed by him.

It took me a while to pull my eyes from the white wall and return to reality. When I did, everything changed.

A howl of inner pain erupted from my throat.

And my screams flooded the room, all the love I had for him transforming into the most bitter and repulsive feeling I could feel.