Page 166 of Ruthless God

Her face drains of color. I don’t stop. I can’t. Because now she has to know. She deserves to know.

“I found out what my brother was up to, but also what Blanc was up to. What the Elite Members had done to save their asses.”

Her lips press together, the tension radiating off her. She wants to ask. But she already knows. I meet her gaze, letting the weight of my next words settle between us.

“That was the first day I stopped hearing his voice.”

Silence. A thick, palpable pause. Then I close my eyes. And I’m there again. Back in London. Back in that day. One moment I was raging. The next? Black. A void. Nothing.

And then I woke up. Disoriented. Hours gone. Time stolen. And then it happened again. And again. And again.

I exhale slowly, dragging myself back to the present.

“I didn’t know what was happening at first.” I run a hand through my hair. “And then one day, I found myself here. On Isola Ombrafiore.”

Cecely sucks in a breath.

Her voice is soft but laced with sharp suspicion. “How?”

“I’m still not sure, to be honest.” That part? Is the truth. “But when I got here, Agnes was waiting.”

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head at the memory.

“Thought she’d seen a ghost.”

Cecely’s brows furrow. The pieces are clicking into place, but she’s still grasping for the full picture.

“She was the one to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

I gesture toward the cameras. “She’s the one who suggested this. To record myself. So I knew what he’d done. There are still times when I need the tapes to know what he’s done. Even now.”

She stares at the monitors, the weight of my words crashing down on her. Gabriel never left me after he died. He was never just a memory. He was always here. Inside of me. Living. Breathing. Taking control when I wasn’t looking.

And for the first time, Cecely truly understands.

34

Claudius

Cecely's breath shudders. She’s processing. Struggling. But I know she doesn’t fully believe me. Not yet. Not until she sees it with her own eyes. Hell, I don’t blame her. I thought Agnes was full of shit when she approached me with her suspicions.

I push off the desk, reaching for the keyboard.

“You want proof?”

I don’t wait for her to answer. I pull up the recordings. The ones Agnes made me keep. The ones I never wanted to watch myself.

I click on a folder marked:

SUBJECT – GABRIEL

Cecely leans forward, her arms crossing over her stomach like she’s bracing for impact. I hit play. The screen flickers, static for a second before the footage sharpens.

I’m in the formal living room here in this house. Only, it’s not me. The way I hold myself, the tilt of my head…it’s all Gabriel.I sit in a chair. A moment later, three women are ushered in by Agnes. I speak to them, reassuring them they’re safe. Agnes ushers them away before returning. We speak and then she leaves.

The footage follows me through the house, as I go to the room I first put Cecely in when she came to the island. Gabriel’s old room. I climb into the bed, falling asleep.

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