Page 156 of Barinov

Aunt Claire’s letter crinkles as I shove it into the vanity drawer. I turn quickly just as he enters. He crosses the room with a slow stride, dressed casually in jeans and a navy button-up.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me up by my fingertips. His gaze flickers to the princess-cut diamond ring already encircling my finger.

“Turn around for me,” he murmurs, his breath warm and unwanted against my forehead. “Close your eyes.”

“What is this, Luca?” I ask, my voice sounding brittle.

“Close your eyes, my love.”

I turn my back to him, my heart hammering in a frantic beat against my ribs as I shut my eyes.

Something heavy settles against my throat. It’s cold when it drags against my collarbone. He fastens the clasp, fingers lingering far longer than they fucking need to.

“Open them,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

My eyes snap open.

The mirror stares back at me, but I don’t recognize the girl in it. The black-and-white collar is still cinched tight. But now, a massive heart-shaped ruby rests just beneath the metal. A violent, pulsing red that looks more like a gaping bullet hole in my chest.

“I got it back for you,” he says. His hands find my waist and pin me in place.

We stare at our reflection for a moment in dark silence. The monster and his masterpiece.

I force a smile and brush my fingertips against the jewel. “It’s… it’s beautiful, my love.”

The words taste like copper in my mouth. Behind me, his emerald eyes darken with a terrifying sort of pride.

“It’s perfect,” he agrees, leaning down to kiss my temple. “Just like you, Izzy.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I have something else for you,” he says, taking a step back. “For how hard you’ve been working to remember.”

My brows pinch. “What is it?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Then he turns and heads out the door.

My fingers dig into the wood as I grip the vanity. A breath gets lodged in my throat when I stare into the mirror. At the black-and-white noose above my mother’s glowing jewel.

The C on my arm catches my attention. Now fully healed, the skin puckered and permanent. He makes sure it’s always on display. A brand for his prized pet.

“They say 666 is the mark of the beast…” I mutter to Zeke’s swan. I scoff, the sound scratchy in my throat. “But hell’s got nothing on Luca Cassinelli.”

Memories of the proposal invade my thoughts. A lovely dinner for two by the pool. The moonlight sparkling off the water behind him as he got down on one knee and promised me forever.

“I should’ve pushed him in,” I say to her.

The swan doesn’t answer. She just sits there, translucent and mocking my existence.

And I snap. I reach for the glass—little red bitch—and hurl her silent ass at the door.

♥♥♥

ZEKE

Eden

58 days since I got my sister back.