Chapter 35: Baptized in Fire

Eve's consciousness swayed between darkness and dim light. The metallic taste of blood sat heavy on her tongue, her breathing shallow. She had fought. She had lashed out the moment they grabbed her, clawed and bit and thrashed, but they were trained for this. She was no match for men bred for violence.

The door creaked open.

She didn't look up at first, didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing the fear in her eyes. But then, that voice.

"I always wondered what kind of woman could tame him."

Eve lifted her gaze. The man before her was older than she had expected, his presence heavy, suffocating. His resemblance to Alexander was striking—same sharp features, same piercing gaze—but where Alexander's presence was a storm, his father was something colder. Something absolute.

"You'll never break him," Eve rasped, tasting blood as she spoke. "No matter what you do."

The elder man smiled, slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.

"I don't need to break him," he said. "I just need him to come home."

The moment Alexander entered the room, he saw her.

The bruises, the blood, the defiance still burning in her eyes.

And his father, standing just behind her, watching with a gaze filled with something dangerous. Something final.

Alexander's gun was steady, his hands firm. "Let her go."

His father tilted his head, his expression almost disappointed. "You know how this ends, don't you?"

Alexander knew. Of course, he knew.

This had never been about negotiation. It had always been about blood.

His father pulled a gun from his holster, slow and measured. "Come home, son. This can all be over."

Alexander's grip tightened. "I already have a home."

The next moment was a blur. His father moved, the gun rising—but Alexander was faster. The gunshot was deafening, echoing through the room. His father staggered, clutching his side, his breath hitching.

Alexander stalked forward, gun still trained, his voice low and unforgiving.

"I wasn't born a monster," he said, eyes burning. "You made me one. Now, let me show you how well you did your job."

He pulled the trigger again.

His father fell, blood pooling beneath him. A life's worth of cruelty bleeding out in the space between heartbeats.

The compound was burning as Alexander carried Eve out. Flames licked the sky, turning the night into something alive, something furious.

Eve's head rested against his chest, her breaths shallow but steady. She clutched his shirt weakly, as if grounding herself. "It's over," she murmured.

Alexander looked back at the wreckage, at the past he had just reduced to ashes.

"No," he whispered. "It's just another beginning."