Page 136 of Beneath the Shadows

Inside, it’s pitch-black—no light, no sound, just oppressive silence. I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. The weak light casts eerie shapes on the walls, distorting the room into something grotesque.

My breath catches as the beam lands on a piece of parchment lying at the center of the room.

Proceed into the depths, where the light flickers and the shadows cling.

If you dare descend, there, you will find what you seek.

“Where the hell do I go?” My voice echoes in the large, empty space.

I scan the room. Every inch of this god forsaken place feels alive. Like it’s watching me, waiting for my next move. Hoping I fail.

Then, something catches my eye.

At the far end of the room, tucked in the shadows, a stack of broken crates lies in disarray. The edges are jagged, splintered, as though they’d been thrown there in haste. My steps are slow, deliberate, each one pressing the tension further into my muscles. I instinctively reach for my gun, only to be reminded it’s not there.

I shove the crates aside, dust swirling up in a choking cloud. Coughing, I wave my hand to clear the air and spot what the crates were disguising—a small, hidden entrance leading underground.

There’s no turning back now.

A set of narrow, brittle stairs descends into the darkness. The wood groans under my weight, each step creaking ominously, a dying echo as if the tunnel itself protests my presence. The damp air is thick with mildew and decay, clinging to my skin. My heart constricts with every step as I picture Alessia trapped down here in this dark and desolate place. Terrified and alone.

As I descend deeper, I hold the flashlight steady, the beam bouncing off the damp, crumbling walls. The silence stretches, broken only by the echo of my footsteps and the distant drip of water. Up ahead, I spot a faint glow spilling into the tunnel.

Rounding the bend, I find a room with the door wide open. I hurry toward it and step inside the dimly lit space. At the center, two figures stand, waiting.

Draco. Emilio Salazar.

And Alessia.

She’s slumped in the corner, her wrists bound behind her back, head hanging to one side. Even in the dim light, I can see the bruises marring her skin. The rise and fall of her chest barely visible. Fear like I’ve never experienced threatens to consume me.

My vision narrows, a red-hot roar pounding in my skull, but before I can take a step toward her, Draco’s voice slices through the air like a knife.

“Well, well, look who finally showed up,” he drawls, a sneer twisting his lips. “It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? After all the death, all the suffering, you come here thinking you can save her—only to meet your own end in the very darkness you tried to pull her from.”

I don’t respond. My focus is locked on Alessia, on the fragile movement of her breath. Every fiber of my being screams to rush to her, but I force myself to stay still. If I make a wrong move, she’ll die before I can even reach her.

Draco steps closer, his footsteps slow and mocking. “I always knew it would come to this,” he continues, savoring each word. “You and me. But I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of watching you lose everything first.” His eyes flick to Alessia, her limp body. “She put up a fight. I’ll give her that. Not that it did her any good.”

My fists clench at my sides. “You’re her father.”

Draco laughs a sharp, bitter sound that grates against my nerves. “Her father?” He spits the words like a curse. “She’s nothing to me. Never was. Did you really think because we share blood, I’d feel some kind of obligation? A sentimental pull?” He sneers. “She’s a pawn, Antonio. Just like everyone else.”

Rage coils tighter, twisting into something feral. “Any man who would do this is nothing more than a coward,” I growl, my voice deadly.

Draco’s eyes flash with something dark before his smirk returns. “Coward? No, Antonio. I’m practical,” he sneers. “She was never more than a cunt to be used as leverage, nothing else. Power is the only thing that matters, and she was useful for that. Love and family are lies weak men tell themselves. In the end, it’s all about survival, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”

I can barely contain the disgust roiling through me. “You think torturing your daughter makes you powerful?”

He shrugs, almost bored. “She’s just another weak link in a chain I’m about to break. But what I can’t understand is why so many men are willing to throw everything away for a chance to fuck her. Maybe I should get my dick wet and see what all the fuss is about before I pass her off.”

Salazar laughs, and my control slips. My vision narrows on Draco as he continues, his voice dripping with mockery.

“You could’ve had everything—power, wealth, control. But here you are, another idiot chasing after a piece of ass. You should’ve fucked her and let her go. Instead, you’re about to die.”

“You’ll never win, Draco. No matter what you think you’ve accomplished here, you’re already finished.”

“Oh, I’ve already won, Antonio. Both of your fates were sealed the second you cared.”

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