Page 93 of Always A Villain

“This is where our time together ends,” he says with mocking sadness.

“Go to hell.” I stare him down with all the defiance I can muster.

“Try not to miss me too much, love. I know I’ll miss watching that tight little ass of yours up on stage.” He winks before he stands and leaves the plane.

Moments later, Antonio appears, settling into the seat across from me. “We’re ready for takeoff,” he says, as if it’s a casual flight to paradise. I glance at the stewardess, who moves around, preparing as the plane starts its taxi down the runway.

“It won’t always be this difficult. Once you embrace your role, understand what’s expected, it will become easier.”

I glare at him, my voice filled with everything I wish I could make him feel. “I’ll never be what you want.Puoi marcire all'inferno.”

“Rot in hell?” He chuckles, the sound low and dark. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your Italian,” he taunts. “Your mother had that same spark. But fire can be extinguished,principessa. You'll come to understand that. You’ll be exactly what I want, Victoria. You’ll marry the man I choose, and you’ll continue the DeLuca bloodline. Your mother made a fatal choice, chose a life with the Sovereign.” His voice twists with disdain. “I won’t make the same mistakes Marco made.The bastard child of the great Marco DeLuca will not be a Servant.”

A lump forms in my throat. “What happened to my mother? I remember you and?—”

“Marco,” he sneers, cutting me off.

“Why?”

His face hardens. “Marco visited her that night. She planned to leave Conrad for him. But by the time we arrived, it was too late. Conrad had already killed her, locked you away, and fled.”

He killed her. He raped her—his own wife.

Her screams. Her pleading. Her terror.

How could he do that?

“No!” The denial tears from my chest.

Antonio doesn’t flinch. “She chose you, Victoria. You’re the reason she stayed. And Marco was stupid enough to get her pregnant—again. That’s when she made plans to leave Conrad for good. But she underestimated just how far he would go to keep her.”

The air leaves my lungs. “What…”

“She ended things with him, told him she was leaving, that Marco was your father. She should’ve known the consequences.” His tone hardens, eyes dark with memories. “By the time we arrived, Conrad had beaten her, shot her… left her bleeding out on the floor. She died calling your name.”

“No…” I whisper, the weight of it crushing me. “No… How could…”

“Marco wanted to take you, but I stopped him. He was in no position to care for a child.” His expression softens, almost looking like regret. “After that night, he was never thesame. He let the Dolore slip from his grasp. You were better off with Conrad.”

I barely hear him.

My mother’s blood. Marco’s face twisted in agony as he held me—my real father.

“Marco refused to have any more children. And cancer took my ability away. But none of that matters anymore.” His voice drops, calculating. “Now, I’m in charge of the Dolore. I won’t repeat Marco’s mistakes. That begins with you. You’re his daughter—his only child—and you will carry on the DeLuca legacy.”

My mind’s spinning, every emotion crashing together—grief, rage, fear, despair. But there’s one that steadies me, giving me hope.

“Axe will kill you all,” I whisper.

Antonio lets out a cruel laugh. “The great Reaper. He’s just a man, Victoria. And men”—he leans forward—“they break. There are no gods among us, only flesh and blood.”

He’s wrong.

Axe will come for me.

I know he will.

I close my eyes, clinging to the last time I felt his touch, the way he made the whole world fade away. I should have told him. My throat tightens. I should have told him that I love him.