Page 48

No.

Dad didn’t flinch. He didn’t let fear cloud his judgment. He found the facts, followed the evidence, and cut through the bullshit.

He’d walk in here, demand a blood test, or whip out some ironclad proof that I was his daughter. Case closed.

He could fix this. He had to.

But he wasn’t here.

And that scared me more than anything.

No one answered me.

Enzo’s gaze locked with mine, but his expression gave nothing away. Still, the way his fingers squeezed mine said enough. A silent message I wasn’t ready to hear.

I cleared my throat, pushing down the knot in my chest. “I thought Dad would be here. Is he still possessed?” I turned to Serenity, clinging to a thin thread of hope. “Serenity, did you heal him?”

The tension in the room shifted as attention moved from my nature to my father’s fate, but I could feel Angelo’s eyes still watching me, assessing me like a potential threat his family might need to neutralize.

Serenity stepped toward me, her expression shattered, eyes rimmed with red. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried. I tried, but the demon... it had destroyed him.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I wasn’t strong enough.”

Something inside me snapped. Shadows rippled and writhed across the room, mirroring the storm rising in my chest. My breath hitched, raw and shallow. “Then where is he?”

Gianna moved away from Dimitri, her face pale and stricken as she closed the distance between us. “There was nothing we could do,” she said softly, haunted. “I was there. That thing… it wasn’t your father anymore.”

Something cold and terrible twisted in my chest. I turned to Enzo.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stared—until I saw it. The sorrow in his gaze. The guilt.

“Enzo.” His name felt like a lifeline as I searched his face, desperate for an answer. “Is he… is he alive?”

Enzo’s silence cut deeper than any blade.

“No,” he finally murmured. Just one word. Fragile. Final.

A sound tore from my throat—something between a scream and a sob—as my knees buckled.

The shadows erupted around me, lashing against the walls like wounded beasts.

Enzo caught me before I hit the ground, folding me into his arms. I clung to him, fingers twisting into his shirt like I could anchor myself to something real.

He held me tightly, his voice murmuring something I couldn’t hear over the sound of my grief.

My father—the man who’d once beaten me so savagely under Maximo’s influence—was gone. But I’d known, deep down, even then… that wasn’t him. That wasn’t Louis DuPont.

Louis was the man who took me to father-daughter night at my elementary school, who whispered bedtime stories in the dark when nightmares kept me awake. He was the one who stood between me and the monsters—until he became one.

And now he was gone. Truly gone.

And I would never hear his voice again. But grief wasn’t the only emotion burning through me.

Someone had taken him from me.

Someone was responsible.

Someone would pay.

I tore myself from Enzo’s arms, rage boiling up from somewhere deep and dark. “How did he die? Did Maximo kill him?”

Serenity moved toward me, her eyes swimming with regret. Her hand clasped my arm gently, but the moment her skin touched mine, something inside me snapped.

“When I couldn’t save him,” she whispered, “when I realized there was nothing left... that he wasn’t your father anymore… he was evil, so evil…”

The air grew thick, oppressive. My heart beat like a war drum, echoing in my ears.

I narrowed my eyes and clenched my fists. The shadows responded, curling along the floor like living things, drawn to my rising anger. “What, Serenity?”

She glanced over her shoulder—toward Angelo—then turned back to me, voice barely above a breath.

“I asked…” Her throat tightened. “I asked Angelo to kill him. There was no other way.”

The shadows screamed.

They burst from the corners like a tidal wave of darkness—twisting, writhing, sentient rage. The air thickened. The lights flickered violently. The ground trembled beneath my feet, as if the house itself was holding its breath.

Serenity’s eyes widened. “No?—”

The shadows didn’t listen.

They struck like lightning. Tendrils of shadow wrapped around her body, hoisting her into the air before slamming her against the wall. The impact shattered plaster, and she crumpled to the floor, blood streaking from her nose, her cheek already swelling.

“I’ll kill you!” Angelo’s roar thundered through the room.

He blurred to her side, cradling her like something precious, his hands already glowing with the spark of healing magic.

Then he turned toward me.

But Enzo moved first.

He threw himself between us and punched Angelo square in the face. Bone crunched. Blood flew.

Angelo snarled—and launched.

They collided like storms, fists flying, fangs flashing, power crashing into power. The room shook beneath their fury.

I threw my will into the shadows, yanking them from every corner, forcing them to rise, to wrap around Angelo and drag him back.

But it was like trying to hold back a flood with bare hands. He tore through the darkness as if it were smoke.

I’d never felt anything like it. Not with Marsha. Not with Maximo.

Angelo was a force of nature—and I was woefully outmatched.

“This escalated fast,” Dimitri grunted, his usual smirk nowhere in sight as he grappled with Angelo’s arm. “Hey, Your Highness—maybe pick on someone who isn’t mourning her father, yeah?”

He strained against Angelo’s strength, planting his feet as Steve lunged in from the other side, both of them trying to pin Angelo down.

“Knock it the hell off!” Dimitri snapped, yanking Angelo back another step. “You want to fight? Fine. But not her.” His eyes flicked to me, full of sharp fury. “She’s not the enemy, jackass. Grief is.”

But Angelo wasn’t stopping. Dimitri’s snarl cut through the chaos as he wrestled Angelo back by sheer force of will—but it was slipping.

“Joy.”

Enzo’s grip clamped around my wrist, dragging me away from the fray with no room for argument. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Steve tore himself from Angelo with a frustrated curse, delivering one last blow before falling in beside us.

“Don’t die, asshole,” he muttered as we retreated.

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Angelo in a brutal bear hug, locking him down with everything he had. “Get her out. I’ve got this.”

It was bravado. Angelo wasn’t something you restrained—he was something you survived. We all knew it. But there wasn’t time to argue.

Behind us, Angelo’s voice slithered after us, low and lethal:

“You’re all dead.”

But we kept running.

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Angelo

The taste of blood filled my mouth—my own blood, courtesy of Enzo’s perfectly aimed fist. I spat crimson onto the marble floor as I cradled Serenity’s unconscious form, her face already swelling where the shadows had slammed her against the wall.

The scent of her pain, mixed with the metallic tang of blood, sent a killing rage through my veins that I hadn’t felt in centuries.

My hands glowed with healing magic as I worked to mend her injuries, but the damage went deeper than broken bones and bruised flesh.

The little Unseelie bitch had dared to attack what was mine.

In my own house. In front of my family. The disrespect was a slap across the face of everything I’d built, everything I represented.

Kings didn’t tolerate such challenges—not from anyone, not ever.

Dimitri’s arms were still locked around me in a restraining hold, his strength considerable but ultimately meaningless.

I could break free whenever I chose. But for now, I let him think he was containing me while I planned exactly how each of them would die.

Enzo first, for daring to strike me. Then the brother, for choosing sides.

And finally, the girl—slowly, while Enzo watched, so he could understand the cost of defying a king.

“They think they can run,” I murmured against Serenity’s hair, my voice deadly calm. “Let them. The city isn’t big enough to hide from me forever.”