Page 64 of Darkest Oblivion
“Treasure?” My voice broke into a jagged laugh. “Is that what you call this?!” I shot to my feet, the bench scraping violently against the stone.
“He’s a monster, Giovanni! He lied, he broke me, he dragged me into his madness—and you want me to believe it’s because I’m his treasure?”
Giovanni stayed seated, shoulders squared, but his eyes darkened with warning. “Ma’am—”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me!” My palm lashed out before I could stop it, striking across his scarred cheek.
The crack of flesh against flesh echoed in the garden, louder than the fountain’s trickle, louder than my ragged breathing.
“You don’t get to sit there and romanticize his sickness. I didn’t abandon him—he abandoned me! And now you want me to wear his madness like it’s a crown?”
Tears blurred my vision, but fury drove me forward, my fists trembling at my sides. “Obsession isn’t love—it’s a noose! And if he thinks he can strangle me with it, he’ll find I’ve got sharper teeth than he ever imagined.”
My chest rose and fell in jagged bursts, my throat scorched, my whole body shaking from the force of what I’d unleashed.
Giovanni’s face bore the red mark of my hand, but he didn’t move to stop me, didn’t raise his voice. He only studied me in silence, as though my fury was the very proof he’d been waiting for.
Chapter 17
PENELOPE
I wanted to scream, to claw at the walls of this gilded cage, but all I could do was sit back, trembling with fury and hurt.
Giovanni’s scarred face didn’t shift, but his eyes softened—just barely.
“I’ll be punished for what I told you about Seraphina,” he said, his tone steady, heavy with the burden of old loyalties. “But you deserved that truth. As for why he wants you broken until death—only Dmitri can give you that answer. And he will, in time.”
His gaze sharpened, a flicker of steel. “For now, let’s pray he recovers. And take my advice—stay away from that ex-boyfriend of yours.”
My stomach twisted. Antonio. His poisonous offer at Lupo Nero, the reckless device I’d planted in a fit of rage—it had all led to this. Dmitri shot, bleeding, clinging to life.
“Will you tell him I sold him out?” The words slipped out small, fear threading through my stubborn resolve.
Giovanni’s lips curved in the faintest, knowing smirk. “Sadly, ma’am, loyalty is my only sin. I cannot keep that from him.”
My heart sank. Of course he’d tell Dmitri—his loyalty was ironclad.
My throat tightened.
“He’ll kill me if you do,” I whispered.
“You didn’t think of the consequences before selling out a man like Dmitri, did you?” Giovanni’s tone was sharp—never cruel, but honed to cut. “A man who rules through fear and blood doesn’t take betrayal lightly.”
“Anyone would’ve done it!” I snapped, my voice cracking with fury I barely held together. “He made me believe he was cheating. From where I stood, he was—until you told me otherwise. But I don’t want him dead. I want him to live.”
Giovanni gave the smallest nod, his expression unreadable. “See you around, ma’am.”
He rose and walked away, his boots grinding against the gravel until the sound dissolved, leaving only the fountain’s trickle—soft, mocking, echoing against the chaos in my head.
Fear gnawed at my chest, regret curdling in my gut, my hands trembling in my lap. If Dmitri lived, I was as good as dead. I’d betrayed him, fed his enemies the key to his ruin.
God, what had I done?
The Bellantis hadn’t wanted me—they’d never cared whether I lived or died. To them, I was only leverage, a leash to pull Dmitri to his knees. Kidnap me, slaughter him, dismantle everything he’d built piece by bloody piece. That was their game. I was nothing but a pawn—worse, bait—and I had handed myself to them willingly. The truth slammed into me like a blade to the chest: I’d delivered exactly what they wanted, gift-wrapped in my own rage.
Rising, my legs heavy, I drifted back into the villa.
Hours dragged like years.
