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I stared at Fosco, stunned. Maybe I shouldn’t have pried, but the question had been gnawing at me too long. Curiosity finally won.

“Did Gosto know?”

Fosco gave a slow nod. “It was long after he told Sibilla nothing more would happen between them. She was heartbroken, and I” He looked down, regret flickering in his eyes. “I wanted to comfort her. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I hated Gosto for getting involved in something so meaningless… and then I turned around and did the same. I thought I could control her, even knowing full well what she was doing. She wanted to make Gosto jealous. Maybe I should’ve told her it would never work. He’s many things, but jealousy isn’t one of them. In the end, I was the one who triggered the tragedy.”

I inhaled a shaky breath. “I felt her rage… her pain, on the island. At the time…” I swallowed hard. “I thought I was better than her. Stronger. But when Gosto told me he could never love me” my voice cracked “I realized I was wrong. I’m just like Sibilla. Weak.”

Fosco’s voice sharpened with anger. “I told you before, didn’t I? You’re nothing like Sibilla.” He paused, then added, “Back then, I didn’t know the full truth. The one who destroyed Sibilla wasn’t Gosto. She did that to herself. She was a spoiled girl who thought she could have anyone she wanted. She chose Gosto and refused to let go, even though he was always honest with her. He never treated her the way he treats you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? The result is the same.”

“No, Domitilla. You’re not weak. Sibilla was and that made her dangerous.”

My eyes widened. “Dangerous? In what way?”

A shadow flickered across Fosco’s face, a flurry of emotions flashing through his eyes before they disappeared behind his usual guarded expression.

“I told you she came from a powerful bloodline. Witches. After Gosto rejected her, she wanted revenge. At first, I stayed close to her because I feared what she might become. I convinced myself I could contain the darkness… but I only fed it.”

I studied his face. “What happened?”

He let out a dry, humorless smile. “She tried to kill Gosto. Took down a few of our warriors before he reached her. They fought. She realized she couldn’t win… so she killed herself. And” He stopped. His jaw tightened.

“And what?” I pressed.

“Nothing,” he snapped, rising from the bench.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re lying. There was something. And it mattered.”

He exhaled sharply. “Domitilla, some truths aren’t mine to share. And even if they were, I don’t know the whole story.”

I reached out, grabbing his hand. “Please. Whatever you do know, I need to hear it. I don’t want to be kept in the dark again.”

Fosco cursed under his breath but sat back down. “Whatever happened just before she died… it shattered Gosto. I’d never seen him like that. Furious. Unsteady. Then he ordered me to buy the island one of the most powerful energy points in the Underworld. That’s when I knew something was wrong. Her spirit should have passed on by now, but it hasn’t. She lingers. And if I had to guess… she’s waiting.”

My brows furrowed. “Waiting for what?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But it has something to do with Gosto.”

As always, talking to Fosco left me with more questions than answers. But now I was obsessed with one in particular: what happened that day when Sibilla ended her life?

Gosto would never tell me. And going back to the island to ask her wasn’t an option.

With no clear answers, I needed something to distract myself something to ground me. Luckily, Fosco had a solution.

“I’ll teach you how to control your powers,” he offered, guiding me toward the training room we always used.

I lifted an eyebrow. “You said there’s barely any knowledge about Nephilims. Do you even know what I am capable of?”

He grinned. “Not a clue. But I don’t need to know that to help you control it.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” I asked, folding my arms.

“Through meditation.”

I didn’t know what I expected, but sitting cross-legged in Lotus position for hours hadn’t exactly been on the list. Still, to my surprise, his method worked. I felt the energy pulsing inside me like a stream I could now see. After an hour, I was able to redirect it, channel it into specific parts of my body.

“Open your eyes and stand,” Fosco instructed. When I did, he moved behind me and led me to face a training dummy a large male figure mounted on a metallic base.

“Make it fall,” he said simply.

I glanced back at him. “How?”

He chuckled. “Use your imagination.”

I rolled my eyes and took a step forward, but he caught my arm and pulled me to a stop.

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“What you told me to do,” I said, exasperated.

He raised a brow. “I said use your imagination. Not your fists.”

I gave a half-laugh. “Okay, but how is that supposed to work?!”

He shrugged. “That’s your job to figure out.” Then his hands slid to my waist, steadying me. He stood just behind me, close enough that I could feel his breath against my neck. It was… wildly distracting.

“Domitilla. Focus,” he said, his voice a soft murmur.

That voice did not help.

I could feel energy building inside me again warm, electric, begging for direction. His hands moved slowly from my waist to my arms, encouraging me to lift them. His fingers trailed down my forearms, leaving a tingling wake as they came to rest over my palms.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Teaching you how to channel what you feel,” he replied, breath brushing over my ear. Then his hands returned to my sides, grounding me again.

I muttered a curse under my breath. Why was I thinking about that stupid kiss?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He waited silently.

When I opened my eyes, I focused on the dummy. I stretched my fingers as though I could touch it from where I stood.

“What do you want, Domitilla?” he asked softly, almost purring. “Think only about that.”

What did I want?

I closed my eyes, looping that question in my mind. I wanted my life back. I wanted control. I wanted to understand my power and not fear it. I wanted to be strong not dangerous. I wanted to love and be loved by someone worthy.

I opened my eyes.

The clarity hit me like a storm. I drew in a breath and exhaled.

The force that left me wasn’t light or a stream of magic. It was will. Pure, unrelenting will.

I felt it hit the dummy like a blow from an invisible fist. The base cracked. A second later, the manikin shattered into pieces.

A scream of delight tore from my throat, and I laughed uncontrollably.

Turning to Fosco, I grinned wide. “I did it!” I bounced on my toes like a child.

He smirked. “I told you to knock it down, not annihilate it.”

“Minor detail,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “You just don’t want to admit I’m awesome.”

“You are awesome,” he said, then suddenly grabbed me by the waist, lifting and spinning me in the air.

I laughed, squirming. “Put me down!”

But then

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

Gosto’s voice cracked like thunder.

Fosco gently set me down. We both turned toward the doorway.

Gosto stood there, fists clenched, eyes burning.

“Fosco was helping me with my powers,” I said quickly. “And I kind of destroyed the dummy.” I gave him a half-smile.

His frown deepened as his eyes locked onto Fosco. “Does helping her require touching her?”

Fosco laughed, low and cold. “No. That was just a bonus.”

Gosto stormed forward.

I stepped between them. “Don’t,” I said firmly. “If you don’t back off, I’ll have to reconsider asking you to keep your distance from me.”

It might’ve been the hardest thing I’d ever said. But I held his gaze.

He stared at me, jaw tight… then something in his expression broke. His eyes shut briefly. When they opened again, the fire had dimmed.

“I’ll do what you ask,” he said, the words sounding like they scraped his throat raw.

Then he turned and walked out.

As soon as the door closed, Fosco burst into laughter.

But I just stood there, heart racing, staring at the door in stunned silence.

Was Gosto… jealous?