Chapter thirteen

"What?!" Aveline gasped, taken aback by Dominic's demand. She blinked at him, her heart hammering in her chest as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

"You heard me," Dominic said flatly, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Aveline clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she stared down at the food that had been dumped carelessly on the floor. She was so hungry, her stomach growling in protest, but there was no way she would stoop so low as to eat from the floor.

"I can't," she said, her voice shaking as she looked up at him. The words hung heavy in the air between them, her throat tight with the sting of humiliation.

Dominic's gaze darkened, his eyes cold and calculating as he leaned back in his chair. "And why is that? You don't get to disobey me. Maybe this is what I get for being soft with you," he said, his words dripping with contempt.

Aveline looked down, her hands trembling as she clutched her dress, trying to steady herself. The pain in her hip was sharp, reminding her of the punishment she had endured earlier. She had barely been able to gather the strength to sit up, and now, she was faced with this. Eating from the floor. She was trapped.

"Just because I touched your album doesn't mean you have to go this far," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I admit I went through your things, and I apologize for that. You can punish me in any other way, but not like this."

Dominic's expression remained cold as he studied her, a flash of something darker crossing his face. "You've got guts to be saying that to me. Looks like you're not afraid of dying, huh?" His voice was low, threatening, as his eyes bore into hers.

Aveline felt a tremor of fear crawl up her spine, but she refused to back down. She held her ground, her eyes hardening even as her hands shook.

"What's the use of living in this world?" she spat out, her words laced with bitterness. "It's better if I died," she said, raising her head to look him in the eyes, her gaze defiant despite the terror twisting inside her.

Dominic stood up slowly, his towering figure looming over her. "Well, you're still useful," he said, his voice flat and indifferent. "So, you're not dying now. Maybe when I'm done with you, you can do that." He paused, his lips curling into a cold smirk. "Besides, a daughter of a murderer isn't supposed to live."

Aveline's heart skipped a beat. The words hit her like a physical blow. She bit her lip, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to drown her.

"My father isn't a murderer," she said, her voice barely audible, the words catching in her throat as she tried to defend the only family she had left.

"Oh, yes, he is," Dominic shot back, his eyes gleaming with cold fury. "He killed someone, and that makes him a murderer. His blood runs in your veins, Aveline. Your mother died after him, and I'm surprised you managed to survive at all." He stepped closer, looming over her, his voice dripping with malice. "It's a good thing you're still alive. For now."

Anger surged through Aveline, her chest tightening with the weight of Dominic's words. Her hands trembled with a mixture of rage and despair. She hated hearing him talk about her parents this way. She hated him for making her feel this small.

"Tell Eve to give you something to eat," Dominic said, his voice suddenly dismissive. "I don't want you dying on me. But don't ever snoop around my stuff again." He turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps echoing as he disappeared.

Aveline stayed frozen on the floor for a long moment, her body wracked with emotion. She felt the sting of tears, but she refused to let them fall. She hated it here. She hated herself. She hated everyone. And most of all, she hated her parents for leaving her alone in this nightmare. All she wanted was to be happy. To be free. Was that too much to ask?

The door opened softly, and Eve entered, her expression as unreadable as ever. She crouched down to Aveline's level, her movements precise as she began to clean the food off the floor.

"You know crying won't do anything for you," Eve said, her voice flat but with an edge of something softer beneath it. "You better wipe it off."

Aveline didn't answer, too tired to argue. She just looked down, her fingers trembling as she wiped away the tears that had fallen, one by one.

Eve finished cleaning the mess without a word, then stood up and went to dispose of the food. When she returned, she walked over to Aveline's side, her eyes lingering on her for a moment before speaking again.

"I'll take you to your room and then bring you some food," Eve said, her tone impassive but with an odd hint of something that almost resembled concern.

Aveline gave a slight nod, too exhausted to protest. Eve helped her to her feet, guiding her carefully toward her room. When they arrived, Eve settled her onto the bed, then disappeared briefly to bring the food.

Aveline sat on the bed, staring blankly at the wall as the hunger gnawed at her insides. She had no idea how much time had passed since Dominic's cruel punishment. Everything felt foggy, the pain in her body drowning out any coherent thoughts. The weight of his words lingered, crushing her spirit.

When Eve returned with the food, Aveline barely had the strength to sit up. But she managed, her hands trembling as she accepted the plate.

"Thanks," Aveline murmured, her voice soft as she took the first bite. The food tasted like ash in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow. Her stomach begged for sustenance, even if it was only to silence the ache.

Eve gave a short nod in acknowledgment. "I'll be back later to take your plates," she said, then turned and left, the door closing softly behind her.

Aveline ate in silence, her thoughts swirling as she pushed the food around on her plate. Her mind kept returning to Dominic's words, to the way he'd looked at her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience, a punishment. He was right, in a way. She was a daughter of a murderer. A father who had destroyed Dominic's family, leaving Aveline to pay for sins she never committed.

She didn't know what she was supposed to do with all this. She just wanted to be free. Free from the chains of her father's legacy. Free from Dominic. Free from the torment of living in this hell.

She sighed, laying back on her bed, exhausted, she closed her eyes, drifting off.

Eve came into the room and saw her sleeping. She walked quietly to her bedside and gently brushed Aveline's hair with her fingers.

"I'll make sure you have a happy life, Avie.."

Meanwhile, in his study, Dominic sat alone at his desk, his fingers tracing the frame of an old family photo. His eyes were distant as memories began to flood back.

It had been a simpler time, before everything changed. His mother had been smiling, holding him close as they stood in front of their old house. His father had been there, too—his strong hands resting on Dominic's shoulder as they posed for the photo.

He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to drown in the fleeting warmth of those memories. Before the tragedy. Before Aveline father had killed his father and ruined everything.

He remembered the days spent at the beach, his father lifting him high into the air, his mother laughter as she watched them, His mother's voice singing softly as she hummed along to the radio, making breakfast in the kitchen.

He remembered when his mother, smiling in the kitchen as she made pancakes; his father flipping eggs with dramatic flair while Dominic, younger and full of light, stood on a stool pretending to be a chef too.

"Hold the spatula like this," his father had said, guiding his hand. "And always remember, son… food tastes better when it's made with love."

His mother laughed, her voice warm. "He just wants to eat the strawberries, not learn how to cook."

Dominic had laughed too. He remembered how full the room had felt then, full of life, of warmth. Full of love .

Those were the days when they had been happy. When life was full of hope, before everything had been shattered.

But now, nothing remained. The house was empty, the memories tainted with loss. The only thing left was the cold drive for revenge. The need to destroy the ones who had stolen everything from him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the harsh ring of his phone. He grabbed it quickly, his fingers still cold as he answered the call.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice flat.

"We have a problem," came Lucas's voice, strained and urgent.

Dominic's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"Lucian is dead," Lucas said, the words chilling. "I think someone is ahead of us. I don't know why, but I have a feeling it's him."

Dominic's expression darkened. "Of course it's him," he muttered, his fists clenching. "He's the only one obsessed with the machine. That bastard Elias."