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34


FLASHBACK

YOUNGER LUCIAN'S POV

Pain doesn’t just hurt—it teaches. That’s what my father always said.

The first strike came before I could guess. His hand slammed across my face, my head immediately snapped sideways. The sting lit fire under my skin, and the taste of blood was on my tongue.

“You hit like a girl,” Enzo
growled, he was circling me like a wolf deciding where to bite next. “No—worse. You hit like nothing at all.”

“I—”

The second blow landed faster, the back of his hand splitting my lip.

“No excuses.” His voice was the kind that dug into your bones. “You think the world will stop for your explanations?”

My ribs screamed as his leg hit me. The air rushed out of me in a painful gasp. I dropped to one knee, clutching my side.

“Get up.”

I tried. My body was trembling, but I got halfway before another kick sent me sprawling.

“You can’t even take a hit,” he said, almost to himself. “A shameful waste of my blood.”

My fists turned into fists, but I kept my eyes down. Looking at him too long was an invitation for worse.

Then—footsteps came running

A servant burst in, pale and shaking. “Signore—your wife—”

Enzo turned his head slowly. “What about her?”

“She’s—she’s on the landing railing upstairs. She says if you don’t stop hurting Master Lucian, she’ll throw herself down.”

Enzo’s expression didn’t change at first. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted—into a cruel smile He let go of my collar like I was nothing more than a shirt he’d grown tired of holding.

“Stay,” he ordered.

I pushed myself upright anyway, ignoring the pain in my side, following him into the hall.

The big staircase rose in front of us, its railings shining under the chandelier’s light. Servants stood gathered below, looking up.

My mother was on the second-floor railing. One bare foot curled over the railingswood. Her silk nightgown moved in the light breeze from the tall windows. Her hair was messy around her face, and she held the post tightly.

“Elena,” my father called, his voice echoed through the room. “Get down.”

“No.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was unshaking. “Not until you swear you’ll never lay a hand on him again.”

Enzo tilted his head, his eyes were filled with something between amusement and contempt. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll fall,” she said.

A murmur rippled through the servants.

“You think your death will change anything?” His tone was almost mocking. “You think I’ll suddenly decide to raise him soft? To feed him kindness?”

“I think it will stop you from breaking him any further,” she said.

Enzo chuckled “Weakness breeds weakness. You’ve smothered him with your softness. He’ll thank me one day.”

“He’s a boy,” she shot back. “And you’re destroying him.”

“I’m making him strong,” Enzo said. “If he can’t survive me, he won’t survive the world.”

Her grip tightened“If you touch him again, I’ll do it.”

He started up the stairs. “Then jump. Show him what strength means to you. Teach him that love runs away when things get hard.”

She looked scared but she didn’t flinch.
“Elena,” he said, now standing at the top step. His voice was slow and flat, like he was bored. “Fall, or step down. Either way, you’re wasting my time.”

Her eyes moved to mine. For a moment, it felt like everything else in the room went quiet. I could see so much in her eyes —love that made my chest hurt, sadness so deep it felt heavy, and a silent apology she didn’t need to say out loud.

Her lips moved, forming two small words. No sound came out, but I knew what they were. I’m sorry.

Her hands gripped the railing one last time. Then she let go.

Her body tipped forward, and for a second, it was like time slowed. Her silk nightgown floated around her in the air, Her hair streamed behind her, the breeze from the tall windows pushing it back. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

Gasps came from the servants below. Someone shouted her name. I stayed frozen, my eyes following her as she fell.

Then she hit the marble floor with a heavy thud that seemed to echo through the entire house. The sound made my stomach twist.

Silence followed. No one moved. No one dared to speak.

Enzo didn’t rush down to her. He didn’t even take a quick step forward. He just looked at her still body like it was nothing more than a thing that had broken. His face stayed calm.

He turned his head toward the nearest servant. “Call the ambulance,” he said. His voice was without fear or urgency like it was just an order to be obeyed.

The servant blinked like they had just woken from a dream, then ran off, their footsteps were echoing until they disappeared down the hallway.

I stood there, my feet stuck to the floor. My chest felt tight, and my ears rang so loudly that I could barely hear anything else.

All I could see was her lying there—her hair spread out on the marble, her arm bent at the wrong angle, her face turned toward me like she was still looking.

Then I felt my father’s hand on my shoulder. It was heavy and strong

“Don’t look away, Lucian,” he said in a low voice near my ear. “This is what happens when someone chooses weakness.”