I surprise myself by getting it all out in one breath. No trembling, no forced manners. Just the truth.
I’m too comfortable here. Especially around Kayla and her aunt.
“I assume you don’t know what this medicine is, do you?” Luca presses.
I shake my head. “I just know that even Ivan agreed to this marriage alliance because he wanted access to it too.”
The more I tell them, the faster they might move. The faster they might find Diana and the drug.
“They had a deal—supplying this drug regularly. And they talked about a shipment of… something. It wasn’t one of their usual products. They were vague about that one.”
Luca’s gaze finally shifts from mine. A smile stretches across his face as he looks past me.
I follow his line of sight—and see her. That beautiful woman from before.
She looks fierce, unflinching. But when their eyes meet, her features soften. A quiet, shared warmth.
She must be Maleciandro’s mother.
Both his aunt and mother look far too young to have grown children, but I know better than most—women in our world don’t get to choose. Alliances are forged through blood and marriage, often before they’re even grown.
The woman steps forward, her gaze gentle as she takes my arm. She stands so much shorter than me, but I don’t doubt for a second how lethal she must be to stand at Luca Spallo’s side.
“Could you tell me what exactly your sickness is?” she asks softly.
“Is that important?” I blink, thrown off. Shouldn’t we be talking about Diana? About getting the drug? About putting an end to my father?
“Yes,” she says. Even softer. Almost… comforting.
Instead of irritation, her gem-like eyes only grow more patient, waiting for me to understand.
Did my father really know these people? Everything feels so upside down.
“We need to understand his motives,” she explains, her tone quiet, careful, as if she’s handling something fragile. “Why does he hide it. Why could only he obtain it first?”
She’s explaining herself. Tome.
I feel the urge to pinch my arm just to check if I’m awake.
Her hand on my arm is warm. Steady.
What is it about this family? Why do they make me feel… human, valued?
I realize she’s still watching me, waiting for an answer.
I clear my throat, trying to find my voice.
I’ve never been allowed to justbemyself around people. It’s always been an act. Polished, cautious manners. Always the perfect, silent, obedient girl—especially in front of men.
“When the drug wears off, I start hearing both screams and whispers… so many voices in my head it shuts me off completely. And if I wait too long—”
“Your body crashes. You can’t feel your legs, arms, can’t separate reality from the blur around you.”
She cuts me off, finishing my words. I step back, gasping.
How does she know?
I nod before I can even think.
