Chapter 194

I couldn't sleep.

I tossed and turned in bed, taking off and covering the sheets, lifting my feet and counting sheep.

I still hadn't quite understood what would become of my life.

Imagine that there were people who wanted me dead, especially if it was a family member of someone I loved. I had nothing. A little over two months ago, I didn't even know what the Factory was, much less the rot that reigned beneath the city's soil.

Olympus was disgusting. Corpses of children, women, and vulnerable people were buried by men who consumed the souls of others. People who enjoyed savoring a heinous crime.

Having killed someone didn't make me better, but at least I knew that he was someone who never wanted to be good. Who didn't have a pure heart.

Was that how Dante thought?

Did he feel at peace with the deaths he caused because he knew they weren't innocent?

However, at the end of the day, we were all condemned for the same action. We would all burn in the same Hell. There would be no separation. There would be nothing that would separate us. If I had blood on my hands, I was as equal or worse than anyone who also drank the blood of those they killed.

"Argh," I groaned, pressing the pillow against my face.

I wanted to die.

Who had I become?

I lied to my friends. I killed a human being and still asked the guy who killed my parents to take revenge for me.

And I had wanted him. Damn, my panties were wet because of that perverse and inhuman vocabulary that Dante uttered while he insisted on squeezing my ass and rubbing his cock against my pussy.

All of this separated by clothes, but I wished it were without.

I was there to kill him. With a simple mission: to decapitate him, dismember his limbs, cut out his heart and sell it as the heart of Lucifer. Dante would be a defeated god. He was because I would not hesitate to plot against his life. Nor Faulkner against me. We were at war.

He wanted me to not be able to kill him so he could kill me. And I should be strong enough to be able to.

But why the hell did I let him take over me? Because I let my body react as if it wanted him to.

Dante was the betrayal of my life. He was the main reason why my heart no longer beats.

So why was it beating so fast around him?

I needed to find defense mechanisms. I needed to be stronger. He couldn't tame me because Dante would break me at the first opportunity. That was his goal. I was his secondary plan. His toy. His fun. I was the destruction he liked to worship to remind himself that he was unbeatable. That nothing, no one was capable of defeating him.

But I had to be his death.

I had to be his last face before stabbing him.

My cell phone vibrated.

I looked at the clock that glowed with the numbers 3:17.

It was dawn.

The night silence was being interrupted by several vibrations from my device.

I felt the bed for the object until I had it in my hands.

My target.

I raised my eyebrow. It was Dante. I had saved his number so I wouldn't get lost in the war.

"What is it?" I asked, showing my patience.

But my ears picked up screams. People asking for help and mercy. On the other end of the line, the dark and frightening energy made my skin go cold, and all my joints stiffen.

"Dante?"

This time, my voice was lower.

"How are you?"

"His was calm. Scarily calm.

I swallowed hard. "Fine, and you?"

"More than fine." A long sigh shook the line. "You said George had interrupted your music, right?"

"I... I was going to start playing the violin, but I didn't get to play it." — Hmm.

The screams kept ringing in the background. I couldn't quite understand what was happening. But hearing that relaxed tone while pandemonium was being unleashed wasn't good.

Dante was up to something.

He was going to cause chaos somewhere in the city.

— Get out of bed and go to my room.

— Now?

— Yes.

I didn't try to say no.

Dante seemed to need it more than making a demand.

I walked cautiously to his room. His scent invaded my nostrils and it was as if he were present, body and soul. It was so typical of him. His scent was unforgettable, welcoming and comforting to every damn sense.

— I'm here.

— There's a violin near the bookshelf — he indicated. — Do you think you can play it?

My muscles froze.

— Play?

— I want them to die listening to the music they wanted to interrupt, pulchra.

That request sounded like anesthesia. A narcotic.

Dante had gone after me for revenge.

An act that was out of character for the man who had almost made me cum for the sake of a fight from our past.

“Are you with Angelo’s guys?” I asked, stopping myself from getting caught up in an unrealistic idea.

“More or less. They’re the main merchants of one of the orphanages he has access to.”

It seems that he doesn't show his face around here, but he has a lot of connections, including George. Everyone knew you. They knew your name, your age, who your parents were. They just didn't know that you were mine and that they should never have thought of messing with you.

Butterflies sprouted in my stomach and took flight. I shouldn't have felt that way when I heard those words, but something in me loved it.

"How are they going to die?"

"Burned."

"It's the worst torture..." I murmured, completely in shock.

"Do you know what's worse than being burned alive? Being burned to the point of death. Each of them has a wound on their leg. They've been bleeding for half an hour, suffering from it. Sweating and thinking that they're going to die because their bodies can't handle the lack of blood. But being burned and feeling the flames entering them? It's the first time I've thought about it and I'm curious to know how they'll react.

Goosebumps make my skin crackle.