Page 153 of The Beautiful Dead

Domino’s lips barely twitched, more scoff than smirk, his dark gaze sliding to me before returning to Federico. Unbothered. Unmoved. “I already have everything I want.”

Everything.

The weight of those words wrapped around me, thick as chains.

Federico laughed, a sharp, ugly sound, his head tilting back as he let it spill into the stale air. It wasn’t amusement. Notreally. It was madness—the fractured edges of a man who had already lost but refused to accept it.

His smirk cut through the dim light like a blade. Sharp. Cruel. Poisoned.

“Didn’t you learn from your whore of a mother?” he sneered, voice dripping with venom. “Love only leads to death. It’s a worthless emotion that makes you weak.”

The air shifted. Domino stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his presence expanding, darkening, consuming every bit of air.

“No, old man.” His voice was razor-edged, laced with something lethal that coiled through the room like smoke before a wildfire. “Love makes me unstoppable.”

Federico’s smirk faltered. It was barely a flicker. A fleeting hesitation. But I saw it. It was the moment he heard them—the drums of war.

He knew.

He knew this was the beginning of his end.

His expression twisted, masking his unease with another sneer. One last act of defiance.

“You prepared to die for him?” he spat.

Domino tilted his head, gaze still fixed, still unreadable.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

His next words were deathly quiet.

“I’ve killed for him.” A pregnant pause. “I’d die for him in a heartbeat.” Another step. “And I’d never regret it.”

Federico went still. Something passed over his face, a flicker of something ugly. Something like… fear.

His lips curled in disgust, but I saw the color drain from his skin. I saw the moment he realized that Domino wasn’t the same boy he had once controlled.

“I see this was a mistake,” he finally bit out, voice cracking just enough to be noticed.

He spat at Domino, his rage unraveling in real-time, flecks of saliva catching the dim light as his chest heaved.

“You’re weaker than I ever let myself believe,” he hissed, voice fraying at the edges. “I refuse to waste my time with you.”

He moved. Closed the distance between them faster than I’d thought possible. Their feet brushed. Their noses almost touched.

“You’ll die by my hand… son.”

Domino didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t so much as twitch. I saw the muscle in his jaw tighten, his fingers twitch at his side. His breath was steady. Controlled. Leashed.

But his eyes…

His eyes promised blood.

Federico was too caught up in his theatrics to notice me shift, the ghost of a movement as I slipped the tracker beneath the collar of his peacoat.

A soft press of metal against fabric. Then I was gone. Back at my post by the door before he even realized I’d moved.

Domino’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it owned the room. “Your last breath is mine.”

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