Chapter 289 289

Chapter 289 289
“I spent my childhood begging for affection. Dreaming of a real family. A mother who cared. A father who…” She cuts herself off and takes a breath. “One who didn’t turn my nights into nightmares.”
She shakes her head, eyes glossy.
“The basement wasn’t the worst. At least those people didn’t pretend to love me. They weren’t supposed to protect me.”
I stumble back, my throat tight, eyes burning.
“No…” I whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was there. I could’ve—”
“Could’ve what?! You were a kid too! You had your hell to deal with—your father’s fists and fury.”
“I would’ve killed him. If I’d known… God, Luna. When did it start?”
“I was so young I don’t even remember,” she says, her voice trembling. “And my so-called brother… he waited until I was thirteen. Said he didn’t like things too delicate.”
She closes her eyes, and I can barely breathe.
“I’ve been treated like a thing by men for longer than anyone can imagine. Now, at least, I get to choose. And no—I never got that dream of a normal life. This…” she spreads her arms, “this house, Zeldric, Lagos, Beni, you… it’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to something real. I don’t want to lose it.”
What the hell are you waiting for? Go find Samu. Rip him apart. Make him suffer.
I shake my head, trying to drown out the voices. I close my eyes and picture butterflies—colorful, quiet, peaceful.
This is your fault. You should’ve ended him years ago. You failed her. You’re going to destroy her, Monster. You’ll break her too. No—kill Samuel. You can still make this right. You need a correction.
My hands tremble as I lift them to my face. My throat closes up. I can barely breathe.
Get out of here, idiot! Don’t lose her. You love her, remember? Shut the noise out. Move. Move, damn it!
That voice—his voice—cuts through the chaos like a blade. I open my eyes.
“Oscar, don’t let them win. Stay with me,” Luna whispers, taking a step forward.
I step back and shake my head.
“I can’t,” I gasp and bolt for the bathroom.
I rush into my room and lock both doors before heading straight for the walk-in closet.
Are you going to do it? Coward.
I open the small cabinet and step inside without hesitation. Darkness surrounds me. I reach out, fingers brushing over the tips of the nails in the wall. I’m about to stop when I hear the voice I fear the most.
Oscar, you need a correction. If you lose control, you’ll end up like your mother.
I exhale sharply and feel around until I find the shackles. I snap them around my wrists and slide down onto the seat covered in nails. As soon as my back hits the spikes, I clench my teeth.
That’s it, son. Pain builds character. More.
I groan, pressing down harder, feeling the sharp tips sink into my skin. The voices vanish, replaced by my breathing and the steady drip of blood on the wooden floor.
And just when I thought we were making progress…
I open my eyes wide. Even in the dark, I see him—grinning like always.
You’re such an idiot. This doesn’t fix anything. Instead of going after Samuel and tearing him apart, you sit here suffering just because your dead father said you should. Haven’t I taught you anything?
I close my eyes again and let the pain consume me. Childhood memories slam into me—the cabin closet, the chains, the corrections, my mother’s lifeless body hanging from the rafters, the beatings, the torment, every time I swore I wouldn’t be locked away again.
I inhale deeply and press harder into the spikes.
This is what I need. I have to pay. For failing her. For not protecting her.