Page 57 of Brutal Crown

Francesco.

Did he know exactly what I was looking for? Exactly what I’d found? How did he unlock this hidden compartment? Does he have a key? Or did I, in my haste, forget to lock it properly? I must have; that day was all a blur to me, after everything that I found.

But then, why would he take the journal?

I tell myself he only took it before someone else could. Maybe he didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.

I know that’s a lie.

I shake my head to get rid of my conflicting thoughts. The only way I can be sure of anything is if I confront him directly about it, which is not the easiest thing to do, especially since I never want to speak to him again. Especially not now, not after the ceremony.

“Focus,” I hiss quietly at myself. I didn’t come here to spiral over Francesco. I came to find answers.

I dig through the books anyway, flipping through pages fast but carefully. And then, on the last page of one of the books, I see a grainy picture. A case made of glass, and inside the case is a thick, leather-bound book with a seal etched onto the front.

The same one on the coin.

I stare at it, trying to place where the photo was taken. The walls behind it… the marble… maybe one of the private floors?

“The flower that blooms in the wrong season always bleeds the soil.”

A terrified gasp leaves my lips at the sound of the voice.

Thatvoice doesn’t belong to anyone in this house. It’s calm, airy, and too sure of itself. I turn around slowly, blood rushing in my ears.

Cassian De Luca.

After I left the ceremony last night, I asked Marta who he was. All she told me was his name and that he was the heir to the De Luca family. She seemed scared even saying his name.

He is dressed in black. His icy eyes almost glow in the dark. His hands are in his pockets. He’s smiling.

“How… how did you get in here? What are you doing here?” I force the words out as steadily as I can manage while my instincts scream at me to run.

He steps forward in slow and light movements, like he’s floating instead of walking. And just like last night, he’s humming a low tune under his breath.

“Curiosity. It’s a powerful thing. Dangerous, too.”

I grit my teeth. There’s something else mixed up with the fear I feel. Anger.

He tilts his head. “You’re not like the others.”

I grip the coin in my palm and raise it. “What is this? This symbol, what does it mean?”

His eyes flick to it. That strange, knowing smile of his widens.

“A seed. A key. Depends on what it unlocks, doesn’t it?”

“Stop speaking in riddles,” I snap, my heart pounding. “Just say what you fucking mean.”

He continues to move toward me. I know I should run, yet my legs remain rooted in the ground. His smile doesn’t leave his face as he comes to stand directly in front of me.

Then he leans in, not enough to touch, but close enough that I feel the chill coming off him.

“Truth kills faster than poison, my dear. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“What do you know about the Romanos? You don’t seem to like them, and they don’t seem to like you either.”

Something shifts in his eyes.