Chapter ten

The black SUV pulled up to an abandoned slaughterhouse on the outskirts of town, secluded, rusted, and silent under the weight of night.

Dominic stepped out, the gravel crunching under his boots. He wore black shirt, tailored slacks, gloves on his hands. His face, as always, unreadable. A predator dressed for business.

Lucas was already waiting at the side entrance, checking the perimeter.

"Place is dead quiet," Lucas said grinning. "Well, not for long."

Dominic didn't reply. He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt like he was preparing for dinner, not an interrogation.

They walked in.

The inside reeked of blood, iron, and rot. Cracked tiles. Rusty hooks. The perfect place for a murder to take place.

At the center of the room, a man was bound to a metal chair, bloodied, bruised, but still breathing. Dominic's men had made sure of that.

Lucas lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.

Dominic stepped into the light and stood in front of the man.

"You know why you're here," Dominic said calmly, his voice as cold as the steel blade he drew from his coat.

The man spat blood. "Go to hell."

Dominic tilted his head. "You first."

Without hesitation, he slammed the knife into the man's thigh.

The scream echoed like music through the building.

Lucas winced. "Brutal. I like this side of you."

Dominic didn't flinch. "I don't have time for games."

"I... I don't know anything," the man choked out.

Dominic twisted the blade.

"Don't insult my intelligence. You were seen with Lucian two days ago. He has an idea of where that machine is. Where is he hiding?"

"I swear… he moves constantly… I only know that, he might be in the safehouse… Geneva…"

Dominic leaned in closer. "Good."

He withdrew the knife and wiped the blood on the man's shirt. "You've been useful."

"W–wait… You said if I told you... "

A silenced bullet to the forehead ended the plea.

Dominic turned to Lucas, who had already grabbed the man's files and a burner phone from the table.

Lucas raised a brow. "You always did make empty promises look elegant."

"I don't like loose ends."

---

Dominic stepped out of the building, blood spattered on his shirt and gloves. The cold night air touched his skin, but it didn't calm him.

His men stood by the SUVs, alert and silent. They didn't ask questions. Not around him.

Lucas trailed behind him, rubbing his jaw. "So… Geneva next?"

"Not yet." Dominic tossed his bloodied gloves into a nearby barrel. "We let the trail warm. He'll panic. When a man like Lucian starts running, he makes mistakes."

He glanced at the horizon, eyes narrowed like a wolf scenting prey.

"I want him cornered. Afraid. And when he's out of options... I want him to beg."

Lucas gave a half-smile. "I'll notify Andrea. She'll hate it."

--

Aveline stepped outside into the garden just as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, bleeding orange and pink into the sky.

The air was cool and smelled faintly of roses and dew-kissed grass. For a moment, she almost forgot the collar around her neck. Almost.

She walked slowly, letting the evening breeze brush against her skin. The heels of her shoes crunched against the stone path, the only sound in the quiet.

The garden was much larger than she expected.

Rose bushes lined the perimeter, thorns sharp and greedy. Ivy curled up marble statues, men and women frozen in expressions of sorrow and longing. A small fountain sat in the center, its water still and mirror-like. Everything was too perfectly arranged. Too quiet.

Like a graveyard built for beauty.

Aveline sat on the cold edge of the fountain and hugged her arms around herself. Her eyes fluttered shut as she breathed in the scent of wet leaves and fading flowers. It had been a long time since she'd seen anything this… peaceful.

But peace was an illusion in this place. She knew that now.

Her thoughts wandered. To Elias. To the painting of her drenched in blood. To Dominic, how his voice made her skin crawl and how he finds a way to get under her skin.

Why was there a painting of me like that? What is he planning?

She ran her fingers across the metal collar on her neck. It didn't feel like leather anymore, it felt like chains. Chains carved into her skin. Her fate.

"Am I just waiting here like a caged bird?" she whispered aloud. "Waiting for one of them to break my wings again?"

The wind picked up slightly, rustling the trees and causing a single rose to fall from its stem. It landed beside her, petals perfect and red like blood.

Aveline picked it up and stared at it.

"They all think I'm weak," she muttered. "Like I'm breakable."

She crushed the rose in her palm. The thorns dug into her skin, but she didn't care. The pain was real. It reminded her she was still here.

Suddenly, a soft rustle caught her attention.

She stood, heart pounding.

Her eyes scanned the garden, but there was no one. Just the trees swaying and a raven perched on one of the statues, staring straight at her.

She felt her skin prickle.

Something was watching her.

She didn't know if it was human, or something else.

---

Aveline's breath hitched as a raven let out a sharp caw and flew off, its wings slicing through the air like black blades.

She turned quickly, her eyes scanning the garden again. Something didn't feel right. Someone was here.

And then, she saw her.

Half-hidden in the shadows near a weeping willow, stood Eve.

Aveline froze.

The girl didn't say a word. She stood perfectly still, arms behind her back, her expression blank. Not cold. Not friendly. Just unreadable. As always.

"How long have you been standing there?" Aveline asked, her voice low, wary.

Eve stepped forward into the light. Her dark uniform almost melted into the shadows behind her. She walked with a straight back and slow, quiet steps.

"Long enough," she said simply, her voice calm.

Aveline swallowed, the crushed rose still in her hand. "Were you following me?"

"I was instructed to keep an eye on you while the master is away."

"Is that what this is?" Aveline laughed bitterly. "Spying on me like some kind of guard dog?"

Eve's gaze didn't flicker.

"Your injured yourself" she said, her tone flat. "Master wouldn't like that."

Aveline's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"

"No," Eve said, walking past her and pausing by the fountain. "Clean that up"

She turned slightly, glancing at Aveline from the corner of her eye.

"You're not as invisible as you think, Aveline. Every room here sees. Every shadow listens. That collar isn't the only thing binding you."

Aveline took a step back, suddenly chilled to her bones.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Eve tilted her head. "Because pretending you're safe only makes it hurt more when you realize you're not."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then, Eve turned and began walking back toward the house, her dark silhouette vanishing into the path of roses and statues.

Aveline stood there, her legs trembling, the crushed rose falling from her hand into the water. The red bled into the reflection.

She looked at her own face in the rippling pool. Pale. Hollow. Tired.

---

Aveline stood frozen in the garden long after Eve vanished. She clenched her fists, but a sharp pain made her hiss. Blood dripped from her hand.

Frustrated and emotionally drained, she turned and walked back into the mansion, her shoes clicking quietly against the floor. The walls seemed to close in more than usual.

She entered her room and shut the door behind her, locking it with shaky fingers. The silence swallowed her whole. She rushed to the bathroom, washed the blood off her hand, and carefully wrapped it with gauze,Eve had gave her when she came in. She stared at the bandage like it was proof of how fragile she'd become.

Then she sat on her bed and pulled her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them.

"Ahh… why does all of this have to happen to me?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

Tears slid from her closed eyes.

"Can't I just live like a normal person? Can't I just be happy… even if it's just for a second?"

Her breath trembled.

"If only you didn't leave me all alone in this world… maybe I would've been happy. Maybe I would've had someone to protect me… to love me. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up in Elias' house. Maybe I'd never have had anything to do with Dominic."

She hugged herself tighter.

"Why did you have to leave me?"

She cried until her chest hurt. But then something changed. The tears dried. Her breathing steadied.

She stood up, wiping her face. Her eyes were red, but determined.

"Maybe all of this started because of that machine," she muttered, walking to the mirror. She stared at her reflection, She looked like a slave with the collar, with blood still staining her fingers.

"I need to find out what it is. And what it has to do with me… and my family."

She walked out of the room, heart pounding but mind focused.

The mansion was eerily quiet. No guards. No servants. It felt… off.

Aveline moved silently through the halls, checking rooms one by one, until she reached the third floor. In the center was a wide, imposing door, larger than the others. Her hand hovered over the knob, breath shaky.

She opened the door slowly.

The scent of sandalwood hit her first.

Dominic's room was dimly lit, with black curtains drawn tightly shut. The bed was large, the frame sleek and expensive. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and locked drawers. A desk near the window was covered in neatly stacked files. Everything in the room was dark, organized, and eerily sterile, like no one truly lived here. No warmth. No personal touch.

But this was Dominic's room. She went inside.

Her body screamed for her to run, but her curiosity pushed her deeper inside.

She opened drawers, paperwork, contracts, blueprints. Nothing unusual.

Then she approached the wardrobe.

"As expected… only black," she whispered as she pushed aside his clothes.

Just as she turned to leave, something fell to the floor with a dull thump. A thick, dusty photo album.

She bent down and picked it up, brushing off the cover.

Her fingers trembled as she opened it.

Inside were photos of Dominic and his parents. Smiling. Laughing. A family. Dominic looked younger, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He looked… human. His eyes were softer. He was even smiling in some of them.

The contrast to who he was now nearly made her dizzy.

Aveline sat on the cold floor, flipping through page after page. There were vacations, birthday cakes, a dog, she never knew someone like him would have a dog. It was a life full of moments she never got to have. Her family didn't even own a photo album.

She lingered on one picture of Dominic and his Parents. He had both his arm around their shoulders, and they were laughing. So alive.

Then Aveline reached the last page.

It was blank.

She sighed and stood, placing the album back.

Then....

"What are you doing in my room?"

The voice was cold. Sharp enough to slice through her spine.

Aveline froze.

Slowly, she turned, her heart beating faster.

He stood by the door. His black coat was draped over one arm. His face was unreadable, but the rage in his eyes was unmistakable. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, as he stared at her.

Aveline knew at that moment that she was dead.