“There’s a famous saying… how does it go? Oh yeah,” I managed to make eye contact. “Certainty is not the same as truth. Have you ever heard it?”
Bruno’s next strike landed across my back, harder, blood leaking down my spine, the back of my legs. I bit back my scream, teeth clenched hard enough to ache.
Giovanni tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was under a microscope. “I’ve been waiting for a very long time.” He sounded almost thoughtful. “Years of careful maneuvering. Alliances built with the most odious of accomplices. Sacrifices, Emberline, I wish I hadn’t made.”
His gaze sharpened.
“And then you wrecked everything, and for what?”
I met his eyes, forcing my vision to steady. “Just wanted to ruin all your fun, I suppose. Guess you’re shit out of luck without your big, bloody rock. How were you planning on accessing the magic, anyway? You’re no witch.” I paused. “Or priestess.”
Come on, give me something, uncle. Spill yoursecrets.
His lips curved faintly, “I have everything I need, niece, don’t you worry.” He almost sounded… pleased, as if he’d won this round. Then that smile turned brittle. “You were supposed to be useful. A weapon to point in the right direction, but you are afailure.”
Another lash.
This one I felt all the way down to my spine.
“You were supposed to kill them when you had the chance,” Giovanni continued, as if the interruption hadn’t happened. “Gabriel. Dante. Marcello. I offered you the opportunity of a lifetime. But you couldn’t even avenge your father properly, could you?”
I leveled my stare on him. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get my revenge, Uncle. And this time, I have the right enemy.” Then I was thrashing against the chains, the whip landing again and again, wave after wave of pain rolling through me, threatening to drag me under.
“You were weak,” he went on, his voice cooling. “You chose to align yourself with them. To protect them. To become… attached.”
I swallowed hard, tasting blood.
“Then,” he said, “you stole the Basin.” His expression hardened, the faint amusement gone now. “I can tolerate traitors,” he said quietly. “They serve a purpose. They can be used, much like I used you.”
Bruno stepped closer again, the whip hanging loose at his side as he waited for instruction, hunger written all over his face as Giovanni’s eyes skimmed down my ravaged body, the blood steadily dripping into the drain beneath me.
“But thieves,” he hissed, “are a different matter. Once you steal, you can never be trusted again.”
A breathless laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
“Well then,” I husked, my voice rough from pain. “You should really hang onto those values of yours. It sounds like they’ve served you well. Good luck with your hunt for the Basin. The world’s a big fucking place, so have fun searching.”
My uncle nodded, and Bruno went wild, the world fracturing at the edges, pain spiking so sharply it blurred everything for a second. My head dropped forward, breath coming in uneven pulls as I fought to stay conscious.
I told myself this was good.
Anger made people sloppy. Sloppy people made mistakes.
And I really needed someone to make a mistake before I lost consciousness.
Pain lanced through my shoulders, down my arms, but I waited. Bruno would cut me down soon. Hopefully, he’d untie me. And now that I knew where I was being held, there was a chance I could get out of this.
And when I did get out of here, I would get that proof into the right hands, and Giovanni would befinished.
Emilia might not trust me, but she would trust the evidence. And once she discovered Lord Blackwood’s involvement, she’d have no choice but to act.
And with her help… we could bring them down.
Giovanni, Rocco, Blackwood… all of them.
Through my fog of pain, I tried to focus on Bruno and Gio’s conversation, both of them clearly frustrated. I let my head drop again, letting my body go slack enough to sell the lie. My breathing turned shallow, uneven, as though I was slipping away.
Then, finally, Giovanni headed for the door.
