Chapter 184

POV Dante

"We have a law, Dante. Several, actually. We all agree and obey," he continued. "You can fuck every woman in the world, but none can take the place of your head. Both."

That law was clear, even if it had been Asher's idea and his idiotic words.

I sighed.

"She will die after everything that happens. You don't need to worry."

"Will you be able to kill her?"

"She won't be able to kill me," I assured. "If killing a stranger was painful for her, killing me will be impossible. So, I guarantee you, I'll be the one to put a bullet in her chest."

Cole studied me for a moment, until his irises focused on something behind my shoulders.

Turning my head, I realized that Gray was watching me, wrapped in a blanket covering her thin body, her voluminous curls making her look like an angel, and the sadness in her eyes, the disappointment, hit me hard.

Ice was injected into my veins, leaving me frozen, unable to react.

I couldn't move. I couldn't show that those words were the result of something greater. I would have to believe in what I said. Emilia had to know that this was what I believed.

She walked, and I expected her to slap me. Curse. Bring down the sky and earth in a collision of cruel words, but Emilia simply passed by, heading out of the lab to the upper floor.

Would she leave?

My blood boiled.

"You know you can't run away."

"I'm not going to," she answered. "Better close your bedroom door, because now that I've killed for the first time, I'll be able to kill for the second and every time necessary until you no longer exist."

I inhaled sharply, laughing at my own misfortune.

I needed to be a leader, damn it. The heart of the fifteen-year-old boy who was in love with the first person who loved him beyond his wounds couldn’t beat at that moment. I couldn’t have a functioning heart.

I needed to live for revenge, hatred, chaos.

Cole was right. They all looked at me as if I were weak, and that made them weak too.

Killing her wasn’t an option, for now, but letting her take root in me wasn’t either. Emilia living was synonymous with my good side existing. And that was an impossibility for what I had committed to.

However, no one understood that I wasn’t protecting her, I was taking care of what would be our triumph. Of what was my agreement. And no one could dare to interfere in my war with Emilia. If she died… My pulse quickened.

I would still watch Gray twenty-four hours a day, if necessary. She could be a target, and I might be letting an intruder discover my hideout. That was out of the question.

And I wouldn’t see any more blood on her face. I couldn’t.

But I wouldn’t let her mess with my system.

I would have to find the damn balance.

"Are you still questioning my decisions?" I asked Cole, after Gray had moved on and I let her go. "I won’t let her die until our agreement is over. That’s what we agreed on. But I won’t let her be the reason for my downfall. Her destruction is my rebirth. Her anger feeds me. Her hatred for me makes it clear who I am and who I must always be. If, at any point, there are doubts about that, each of you can shoot me in the chest."

Cole stared at me intensely, showing no sign of being shaken by my words.

"And if you die, we’ll kill her. You know that, right?"

"Yes, I know."

***

POV Emília Gray

"One night.

One night was enough for me to get used to the idea of having already taken a life.

I convinced myself it was for my survival. That it was someone who wished me harm and got what they deserved. Karma played in my favor.

I killed him with my weapon. With that which I was willing to take up again. It was a sign. A warning. It meant I fought until the end for myself, and I wouldn’t fear anyone.

So why the hell couldn’t I leave that house?

Hearing Dante swear to Cole that he would kill me was cruel. Dante would always be a traitor. He lied, manipulated me. He made me believe in unreal things. He made me believe he had a heart when it was just a stone beating in his chest, pumping venom through his veins.

Dante believed I wouldn’t be able to kill him. He had implanted in his mind that I loved him. That I still felt something for him.

That son of a bitch was more than mistaken.

I wouldn’t hesitate to drive a knife into his chest. If I could, I would rip that necrotic heart from his chest. I would crush it.

I would keep it as a trophy for myself.

I killed once.

I would kill again until there was nothing left of Dante Faulkner on Earth.

But why, then, did it still hurt?

"Sometimes I wonder what you were thinking in the last seconds of your lives?" I asked, curling up more, examining the two gravestones together. "If it was about me, if you regretted what you did all these years, or if you regretted not being able to kill Dante so that today you would still be alive? You never thought about dying so soon. You still had plans. I remember you talking about wanting to get married again and me being able to watch. You wanted to keep living, but you killed too. Why? How were you able to love me so much when you had such a cruel part inside you? How?"

Any doubt I had would remain marked by the question mark. They wouldn’t be able to tell me anything. I wouldn’t be able to understand them. Never.

"Sweetheart, I know you didn’t ask, but I bought a bottle for you too."

Kayleen arrived, sitting beside me. She hated sitting on the floor, as her hygienic side was more prominent, but she didn’t complain as I lowered myself to the ground.

Cullbert insisted on coming with me to the cemetery. She noticed something was wrong with me but didn’t ask many questions, determined to follow me wherever I went.

And here we were.

I accepted the bottle, taking a generous gulp as the neck of the bottle was taken into my mouth. I wasn’t thirsty, but the idea of drinking water seemed to drown my thoughts and leave my mind emptier.

"You know, I miss them too. Especially the food," Cullbert confessed, making me laugh.

"I can imagine. You liked coming to my house just to feed your stomach."

"Too bad you didn’t inherit either the money or the recipes," she mocked, and I laughed a little more.

"Where’s your compassion?" I teased.

"For you, none."

Her smile was playful. The fall of her head lightly against my shoulder made my heart skip. I tilted my head too, touching hers. Her hand intertwined with mine, and we stayed there for a few seconds that I wished would never end.

"Do you miss him?"

The question broke the mood.

The saliva that slid down my throat was hot.

"Depending on the answer, you’ll kill me, won’t you?"

Kay straightened up without letting go of my hand.

"Even though I was upset when I found out you were his friend and hadn’t told me, I’d never be selfish. You’ve always been so kind. You love everything and everyone. Your obsession with him was more than obvious. I should’ve expected you to fall in love with him."

My nose wrinkled.

"I don’t love everything and everyone."

"You try to be like me, Lia, but you can’t." I furrowed my brow again as Kayleen looked at me with a smile. "Your heart beats for everyone. Always helping me and Penélope. Making sacrifices for those you love, seeing color where it’s black and white. You find light where everything is dark. You’re altruistic, my friend. You always have been. In your own way, of course."

It didn’t make sense to me.

I was kind when I was younger, but since what Dante did to me, there was nothing good left in my blood.

If Kay knew how I took someone’s last breath, she’d never say such a thing to me. In fact, she would hate me, just like any human being would.

"But still," Kay continued, "I don’t think you could be friends with someone like him. Dante always gave me a bad feeling. And the fact that he did what he did... I don’t know, Lia. He could have been the cruelest person in the world. Why would he do that to the only person who wanted to hold his hand?"

I didn’t defend myself from the punch to my chest.

It was a cut that opened every day that passed. Words in the shape of a blade that tore my skin without anesthesia.

It hurt.

It hurt so much that even the strongest sedative couldn’t make me forget the pain.

Yet, as hard as it was to forget, it was easy to understand. I now knew all of Dante’s reasons. I now knew all of his facets and understood each one.

And I was no longer capable of judging him.

Because maybe I would do the same.

I didn’t forgive him, but I didn’t condemn him.

Not anymore.

I had become like him. Not because I killed someone, but because I wished to kill him out of revenge, just as he did what he did.

We were rowing in the same ocean, wanting to tame the same storm.

"I miss him," I said softly, afraid to expose my heart more than I should. "He was good to me."

"Lia..."

"You have no idea what he was capable of offering me. Dante warmed me like no one else, Kay. He made my heart sing."

But we don’t always know a person for who they really are. And I was stupid.

I don’t blame him for that. The warnings were there. I just didn’t care.

Her hand squeezed mine tighter.

"It was him who killed your parents, Emília. Not the other way around."

"You know what’s worse? I never hated him for killing my parents. I never truly judged him for that. I hate him for killing me that night. For betraying my trust. It was never about him being a damn killer. It was because he was a damn traitor. It was because he abandoned me. Because he did what he did and didn’t even bother to hug me, wipe my tears, and tell me it would be okay."

My sobs broke every articulated sentence. I tried to control my tears, but it was a river of pain and blood that couldn’t be stopped.

"Are you saying that if he had stayed here with you..."

"I would have forgiven him."

My throat burned.

It was a confession coming from the darkness of my system. It came from the depths of my consciousness.

It was the truth.

The harshest and saddest truth.

My hatred and disgust for Dante would always be because of the abandonment after allowing my heart to be signed by his name.

My angels had loved all of his demons, and they had dragged me to a Hell that was never promised to me.

"Oh, Lia..."