The scream still echoed long after it faded. It clung to the walls of my mind like smoke, twisting through every breath I took. The air inside the basement had turned heavy, the lantern flickering as though it too feared what had been released.I couldn’t move at first. I just sat there on the cold stone floor, my chest heaving, sweat mixing with the ash on my skin. Every heartbeat felt wrong—too fast, too strong, as if something else had begun to beat alongside mine.When I finally forced myself to stand, the room looked different. The markings on the walls had stopped glowing, yet they still pulsed faintly, like embers refusing to die. The iron box lay open beside me, empty now, as though its purpose had been fulfilled.The seal was broken.And I had no idea what that truly meant.I stumbled toward the stairs, clutching the wall to keep my balance. My head pounded with a dull ache that wasn’t entirely my own. By the time I reached the top, the rain outside had stopped. The silence felt w

The rain hadn’t stopped when Rian and I left the apartment. It followed us like a quiet warning, tapping against the windshield as we drove through the city. Morning blurred into gray, buildings looming like ghosts of a world that had forgotten color. Rian kept his eyes on the road, his silence louder than the sound of the wipers.I held the locket in my hand, feeling its weight. The metal was cold, but it pulsed faintly against my skin, as if something inside it still remembered warmth. Every few seconds, I caught myself rubbing my thumb over the photograph hidden within. My father’s face. The woman beside him. That resemblance I couldn’t explain.We didn’t talk for most of the ride. There was no point. Words felt useless when everything that mattered was already bleeding inside your head. When the car finally stopped, we were standing before an old government building—stone walls darkened with age, iron gates slightly rusted. The archives.Rian got out first. I followed, the rain soaki

The city never really slept. Even after everything that had burned, rebuilt, and bled, Rome still pulsed under its own kind of heartbeat. Somewhere between its lights and shadows, I found myself standing in front of a mansion that looked too clean, too silent, and too alive to belong to anyone innocent.The Vassari estate.The name had circled through the underworld for months—old money, older secrets. But the truth ran deeper. The Vassari heir wasn’t just another enemy; he was tied to the blood that cursed my family. His father had been one of the men who watched mine die. And according to Mira’s last words before we split, he might hold the final key to breaking the curse or binding it forever.The air felt heavy. Rain gathered on the edges of my coat, and the scent of iron clung to the night.“Are you sure about this?” Rian asked quietly beside me. His tone had changed over the past weeks—less like a soldier, more like a brother trying to keep me from falling apart.“I’m done being sure

The old study still smells like my father—ink, cedarwood, and a faint trace of smoke that time never managed to erase. I push the door open slowly, letting the hinges creak as if the house itself remembers me. Dust hangs in the air, catching the light from the cracked window in soft motes that shimmer like ghosts.It’s been years since I came here. I used to stand at that desk, barely tall enough to see over it, while he scribbled notes into his leather-bound journals. I thought he was immortal then—untouchable, steady as the earth beneath our feet. Now the room feels like a grave that refuses to let go.I run my fingers over the edge of the desk. The wood is rough, worn by years of use, and still stained with the faint circle where his glass of whiskey used to sit every night. I remember the way he would tap that glass twice before speaking, a signal that whatever came next would matter. I wish I had listened more.The drawers are locked, but the key lies where it always did—hidden bene

The morning came heavy, thick with fog and the taste of smoke that didn’t belong to this part of the city. I woke before dawn, heart racing, without knowing why. The air around me felt wrong—like something in the world had shifted while I was asleep.The room was quiet. Too quiet. Luca’s side of the bed was cold.For a moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, the echo of a dream fading from my mind—one I couldn’t fully remember. All I knew was that someone had called my name. A voice that didn’t sound human. A voice that sounded like grief itself.I got up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet. The apartment felt different today—as if it had aged overnight. There was dust in the corners that hadn’t been there before, and the light through the curtains carried an odd tint, pale and cold.I found Luca standing by the window, his back to me. He hadn’t changed out of his clothes from last night. His hands rested against the glass, knuckles white, and his eyes looked distant—lik