Page 109 of The Devil's Canvas

I don’t wait.

“He’s not entirely wrong,” I say, my voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Dominic spins to face me. His eyes are wide. Rhys lowers his camera, stunned.

“But he didn’t know the kind of demon he made a deal with,” I go on, stepping closer. “Or who I really am.”

Cassius finds his voice, and it shakes. “You—You shouldn’t even be here. You’re not supposed to—”

I cut him off with a slow, deliberate motion, fingers curling around the collar of my shirt. I tug it down.

The mark glows faintly at my collarbone—elegant and brutal, the seal of the Duvain bloodline.

Julian’s mark. My mark. Cassius staggers back like it burned him.

“I’m not yours,” I say, voice steel-wrapped velvet. “Not your pawn. Not your sacrifice. And definitely not your redemption arc.”

I step forward again. “I’m his soulmate. And that makes your deal null.”

The air goes still. Cassius’s mouth opens, but it takes him a moment to speak. When he does, it’s not triumphant. It’s unhinged.

“No. No, that’s not how this works,” he says, laughing suddenly—dry and sharp, a man grasping at pieces that no longer fit. “That’s not the deal I made. That wasn’t what was promised.”

“You were promised power,” I say coldly. “Not me.”

He shakes his head, wild now. “She was mine. My blood. My legacy. You were just—”

“Wrong,” I say flatly. “You were just wrong.”

Melanie decides to speak. Her glare whips toward Cassius, her voice rising, brittle with frustration. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You promised she’d feel nothing. You said she already felt nothing! That it wouldn’t even matter—”

She freezes. Everyone stares at her. My heart stops. “What did you say?” I ask, my voice low. Dangerous.

Melanie opens her mouth. Closes it again. Her lips press tight, but the damage is done.

“You said she already felt nothing.” My breath shakes. “That’s what he said. That’s what he told Julian when he made the deal.”

Panic tightens her face, her eyes wide with the sudden weight of what she’s revealed.

“You were there,” I whisper. “You knew.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t lie. You knew exactly what he was doing. You just stood there. Let him do it. Took what wasn’t yours and played innocent.”

“I thought it would help me,” she blurts, voice cracking. “He said you didn’t even want it! That you locked yourself away, that you didn’t create anything—”

“And you believed him?” I laugh, but it’s hollow. Bitter. “You believed the man who called his own daughter poison?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Bella whistles, slow and stunned. “Well, shit,” she mutters. “You really are a good actress, Mel.”

Melanie doesn’t respond. Can’t. Her mouth twitches like she wants to argue, but nothing comes out. She looks away, ashamed. Cornered.

Dominic’s voice is quiet, cutting through the tension. “She’s not the better actress. She’s just been given a better script.”

And I finally see her for what she is. She’s not a lost fool, she’s just selfish enough to pretend that she was.

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