They didn’t just break me-they hollowed me out and filled me with lies.
I stared at the blank dot on the wall, unmoving, unblinking. Was it hours? Minutes? Seconds? Or eternity? I didn’t know anymore. Time felt like a cruel joke, stretching and bending around the chaos in my mind.
My father was alive.
Brian Rosewood. The man I watched die, the man I mourned until my soul fractured, the man I blamed myself for failing to save-he was alive.
I should’ve felt relief. Joy, even. But all I felt was a black hole, pulling me deeper into its void. My chest tightened with the betrayal, the confusion, and the ache. How could this be possible? I wanted to cry, but I thought I had lost my tears long ago. They’d dried up the day I lost him-or so I thought.
He was alive. That truth should have stitched me back together, but instead, it broke me further.
Where had he been? All this time, where was he? Why didn’t he come for me? Why didn’t he show himself when I was drowning in guilt and regret, thinking I had failed him? My mind was screaming, clawing for answers, but the only thing that echoed back was silence.
Judas.
Did he know? My heart clenched at the thought. Did he look me in the eyes every day, kiss me, touch me, hold me, knowing the man I mourned was breathing? If he knew, why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he tell me?
I felt everything, yet nothing. The betrayal stung the most, sharper than the cigarette burn Lucius had pressed into my skin, deeper than the wounds I’d carried for years. I’d been lied to, over and over again. My life had been shaped by deceit, carved into something unrecognizable by the hands of those I trusted.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. My head pounded with unanswered questions, each one a knife twisting in my chest.
I was nothing more than a pawn in a game I didn’t understand, and now, I wasn’t even sure who was moving the pieces.
Lucius. Judas. My father.
The names swirled in my head. I wanted to scream, to tear at the walls, to force the universe to give me answers. But I couldn’t. I was stuck, frozen in place, staring at that blank dot on the wall as if it held all the secrets I so desperately needed.
Was my entire life a lie?
I’d spent so many years blaming myself for my father’s death. I’d carried that burden like a cross, letting it crush me under its weight. But now… now I didn’t know what to think. Was I even allowed to grieve anymore? Was I allowed to feel angry, abandoned, betrayed?
And then it hit me-grief. It came like a storm, crashing into the hollow spaces I thought had long been emptied.
For the first time in years, I cried.
Not for him. Not for Judas. Not for anyone but myself.
I cried for the girl I used to be, the one who believed her father’s smile could keep the world steady. I cried for the girl who had begged the universe to give her a second chance the day he died. I cried for the woman who had been shaped by loss, forged in fire, only to realize it was all for nothing.
Each tear felt like a dagger, slicing through me as I choked on the sobs I couldn’t hold back anymore. My body shook, and I didn’t bother trying to stop it. I couldn’t.
I had mourned a lie.
I had spent years burying myself in guilt, letting it rot inside me, convinced I was responsible for something that never even happened. And now? Now I was left with the jagged edges of a truth I didn’t ask for. A truth that mocked me, that shattered every fragile piece of myself I had managed to rebuild.
How was I supposed to feel? Relieved? Angry? Hurt? Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.
I covered my face with my hands, pressing my palms into my eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears. They just kept coming, as if my body was finally purging itself of everything I’d kept locked away for years.
I felt pathetic.
The door creaked open, pulling me out of the storm raging in my mind. Two men stepped in, their faces void of emotion, save for the faintest hint of malice in their eyes. Behind them, Lucius followed, his presence like a dark cloud suffocating the room.
I didn’t say a word. I just watched.
One of the men carried a small box. I didn’t know what it was at first. My eyes darted to Lucius, who looked at me like I was already a corpse.
They knelt, placing the box beneath my chair with an eerie precision. It clicked open. My stomach dropped as wires and a blinking red light came into view.
A bomb.
My body tensed, and for a moment, my mind screamed at me to fight, to run, to do something. But my wrists were bound, and my body was a prison of pain.
One of the men straightened, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Too bad,” he drawled. “A young cunt like you has to go out like this.”
The other man chuckled darkly. “Real shame. Pretty face and all.”
I glared at them, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
Then Lucius moved.
He stalked toward me, his green eyes glinting with something feral, something unhinged. He stopped just in front of me, crouching so that we were at eye level. His hand came up, brushing hair from my face, and I flinched.
“Ah, there it is,” he murmured. “That spark of defiance. I wonder how long it’ll last.”
He reached out, his hand trailing down the side of my neck, lingering just a little too long. My skin crawled under his touch.
“You’re trembling, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Scared?”
I gritted my teeth, forcing the words out. “Fuck you.”
He chuckled. “Such a sharp tongue for such a delicate thing.” His fingers brushed against the top button of my shirt, and I froze. “Let’s see how much of that fire you have left.”
My heart thundered as he slowly unbuttoned the top of my shirt, one button at a time, dragging out the moment like it was a game to him.
“A woman’s dignity is her armour,” he said, his tone mockingly philosophical. “But perfection…” He pulled a blade from his coat pocket, holding it up so the dim light reflected off the sharp edge. “Perfection needs to be destroyed. Too much of it…”
“Don’t-” My voice cracked.
Lucius tilted his head, the corner of his lips curling into a smile that made my blood run cold. “Don’t? Monsters don’t listen to pleas.”
Before I could process his words, he pressed the blade to my cheek. The cold metal bit into my skin for a brief, merciful moment before he pulled.
Fire exploded across my face.
I screamed, the sound ripped from my throat as the blade carved through flesh, slow and deliberate, dragging pain in its wake. My blood, hot and thick, dripped down my chin, staining my shirt and pooling on the floor.
Lucius leaned back, admiring his handiwork like an artist before a masterpiece. “Beautiful,” he said softly, tilting his head. “Broken things are always so much more interesting.”
I was shaking, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. My skin burned as blood dripped onto the floor. I blinked through the haze of pain, glaring up at him with all the defiance I could muster.
“You’re a fucking coward,” I spat.
Lucius chuckled, standing and brushing off his coat like nothing had happened. “Perhaps. But cowards live longer, don’t they?”
He pulled out his phone and dialled a number.
A voice crackled to life on the other end. “How’s the little Romanovski?”
My heart stopped.
“Still unconscious,” the voice replied casually.
My eyes widened. Krystina.
The pain in my face was suddenly forgotten, replaced by a new wave of panic. My chest tightened, my stomach sinking like lead.
“Where is she?!” I screamed, struggling against my bindings despite the pain tearing through my body. “Leave us alone! We have nothing to do with this!”
Lucius crouched again, placing the phone on the ground so I could hear every word. His smirk grew as he leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a dark lullaby. “I’ll leave one of you.”
I froze. “What?”
He straightened, looking almost amused. “You heard me. One of you gets to live.”
The room spun, my mind racing to make sense of his words. “What…what do you mean?”
“That,” he said, gesturing toward the ticking bomb beneath my chair, “depends on Judas.”
I stared at him, my pulse hammering in my ears. “You’re lying.”
Lucius laughed, a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, I’m not. You see, Judas has a choice to make.” He stepped back, gesturing to one of the men. “Two warehouses. Two bombs. Equal timers. One is with you.”
My blood ran cold.
“The other,” Lucius continued, “is with dear little Krystina.”
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, you can’t-”
“I can, and I have.” His voice was calm, almost cheerful. “Judas can only save one of you. His sister or his precious little bird.”
My breath hitched as tears streamed down my face, mingling with the blood from the wound Lucius had carved. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart, the weight of his words crushing me.
“You’re sick,” I choked out, trembling.
Lucius crouched in front of me again, his grin widening. “Oh, Seraphina,” he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just…business.”
I sobbed, unable to stop the tears as the sound of the ticking bomb grew louder in my ears. Time was running out.
Lucius crouched in front of me, his blade still glinting with my blood. His eyes, green and soulless, locked on mine. The silence stretched, suffocating, as his lips curled into a smile that made my stomach churn. “You should be flattered, you know,” he said. “You’re about to become the most important decision of Judas Romanovski’s life.”
“Just make sure to say goodbye to Judas when you see him… if you see him.”