Chapter 60 Reveal

Chapter 60 Reveal
The only sound in the opulent foyer was my dad's ragged breathing against the marble wall and the soft, classical music still piping from the open elevator car.

Vesper held my father pinned, his forearm a steel bar against his neck. Vesper's presence filled the space, a terrifying, silent intensity that made the air feel thin.

"Where is she, Thomas?" Vesper growled, pressing harder.

My dad sputtered, his face purpling. Even pinned like a butterfly in a display case, his eyes darted around, calculating angles, looking for a way out.

"Markov!" he choked out.

The kitchen door swung open. Markov stepped out, holding a glass of water, his service weapon tucked under his arm. He stopped dead, processing the scene: Steiner unconscious, his boss pinned by the battered quarterback, and the weeping, broken daughter suddenly standing tall, her eyes hard.

Markov dropped the glass. It shattered on the tile floor. He went for his gun.

I didn't hesitate. I was done being the victim in this house.

I saw dad's dropped Glock on the floor near my feet. I snatched it up with my good hand. It was heavier than I expected. I brought it up in a two-handed grip, ignoring the scream of protest from my broken shoulder, and aimed it squarely at Markov’s chest.

"Don't," I said. My voice was flat, devoid of tremor. It was the voice of someone who had blasted a Troll through a brick wall and liked it.

Markov froze, his hand on the butt of his own gun. He looked at me, really looked at me, and saw the violet sparks still dancing faintly at my fingertips. He saw the daughter of a crime boss who had finally decided to join the family business.

Slowly, carefully, Markov raised his hands in surrender.

"Smart move," Vesper rumbled. "Now, face the wall. Knees on the floor. Hands behind your head."

Markov complied.

Vesper turned his attention back to my father, yanking him away from the wall and spinning him around. Seratti stumbled, clutching his numb arm where I’d shocked him. He looked at me with a mixture of fury and terrifying new respect.

"You have fire in you after all, girl," my dad sneered, trying to regain some shred of control. "I always thought you were too soft. Like your mother."

The mention of the woman who raised me—the gentle, terrified woman he had bullied until she faded away —snapped something inside me.

I took a step forward, leveling the Glock at his kneecap.

"Don't talk about her," I hissed. "You killed Martha. You took Sylvia. We're going to the master suite, and you are opening that panic room."

He laughed. It was a brittle sound, edged with genuine fear now. "You think you can just waltz in there? You think you’ve won because you learned a few parlor tricks?"

"I think I'm holding a gun, and Vesper is about to snap your neck," I said coldly. "Those seem like winning cards."

"You don't understand what you're dealing with, Sylvania," he spat, his eyes darting to the violet residue on my hands. "You think that power is yours? You think you control it?"

"Estava taught me enough," I said, using the seer’s name. "Enough to hurt you."

"Estava," he mocked. "The old crone in the sewer. She didn't tell you the whole truth, did she? She likes her secrets."

He knew her?

Vesper slammed him against the wall again, hard enough to rattle the expensive art pieces. "Enough talk. Move."

"Wait," he gasped, his eyes locking onto mine. There was a malicious glint in them now, a desperate card he was waiting to play. "Don't you want to know why the 'Goddess' chose you, Sylvania? Why out of all the billions of people, she decided to plant her seed in you?"

I hesitated. The question had haunted me since the beginning. Why me?

"Because I'm unlucky," I said fiercely. "Because you sold me out."

"I didn't sell you," he whispered, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "I made you. With her."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The classical music from the elevator sounded suddenly distorted, sickening.

"What are you talking about?" My grip on the gun tightened until my knuckles turned white.

My dad leaned forward against Vesper’s restraining arm, his gray eyes boring into mine.

"Your mother—the woman who raised you till you were three—she couldn't have children. We tried for years, and ended up adopting Enzo. I wanted an heir of my own blood. I was desperate enough to listen when whispers reached me about an ancient power in the underground, a sorceress who could grant desires for a price."

My stomach dropped. I felt sick.

"I sought her out," he continued, savoring the horror dawning on my face. "Hera. She was... magnificent. Terrifying. We made a deal. She wanted a vessel, a child of her own bloodline hidden in the human world until the time was right. And I wanted a legacy."

He looked me up and down, as if inspecting a piece of livestock he’d bred.

"Hera is your mother. That violet fire in your veins? That’s not a curse she put on you. That’s your inheritance. You’re half-monster, just like your boyfriend here. But she left me just when I began feeling things on her, and that's why I passed on the aggression on you."

The gun wavered in my hand. I couldn't breathe. The room was spinning.

Hera. The ancient sorceress who had murdered me in a past life. The being trying to possess my body and destroy the world. She wasn't just an external threat. She was my blood. She was half of everything I was.

The self-loathing that crashed down on me was suffocating.

"No," I whispered, stumbling back a step. "You're lying. You're trying to break me."

"Look in a mirror when you get angry, girl," he sneered. "You have her eyes."

I might have fallen if Vesper hadn't moved. He shifted his grip on my dad, using one hand to keep my father pinned while reaching out with the other to grab my shoulder, shaking me hard.

"Sylvania! Look at me!" Vesper’s voice was a command, cutting through the fog of horror.

I looked up at him. His green eyes were fierce, anchoring me.

"He's doing exactly what she did," Vesper growled. "Using words to paralyze you. It changes nothing. Do you hear me? It changes nothing about who you are."

"But she's..."

"She's a donor," Vesper snarled. "She gave blood. Martha gave you a life. You decide which one matters."

He turned his fury back to my father, slamming his forearm into my father's throat, cutting off his air.

"You think that news breaks her?" Vesper hissed into my father's purpling face. "You just gave her another reason to burn your world down. Now, walk."

Vesper shoved him toward the archway leading to the living area and the master suite beyond.

I stood there for a second, reeling, the gun heavy in my hand. The truth was a poison spreading through my system. But Vesper was right. Paralysis was death.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I pushed the horror into the same mental box where I kept the pain of my broken shoulder. I locked it down with the cold iron wall Estava had taught me to build.

I wasn't Hera's daughter right now. I was Sylvia's sister.

I tightened my grip on the Glock and followed them into the penthouse.