Page 1 of Obsidian Devotion

1

Prologue

Thecallcomesat3:47 AM.

“There’s something you need to see.” Uncle Carlo’s voice is strange, hollow. “Warehouse 17 on Porter Street. Come alone.”

I’m still in my cocktail dress from the charity gala, stilettos clicking against wet concrete as I count the warehouses. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. The metal door groans open, and the first thing I notice is the copper smell.

Blood. So much blood.

“Hello?” My voice echoes. In the dim light, I see Uncle Carlos standing by a chair. No, not a chair. A torture chair. And in it…

The scream tears from my throat before I recognize it as mine.

That can’t be Luciano. That twisted, mutilated thing can’t be my beautiful brother. But I know his watch—our father’s Rolex. Know the small scar on his wrist from when I pushed him off his bike at nine. Know the St. Christopher medal around his neck—now stained red.

“Don’t look, piccola.” Carlos catches me as my knees buckle. “Don’t—"

But I can’t stop looking. At his missing fingers. His flayed skin. The burns. The careful, almost artistic precision of the torture. This wasn’t rage. This was a performance.

“Lorenzo Bellanti.” My uncle’s voice drips with venom. “He took his time. Made it last six hours.”

“Why?” The word breaks on a sob.

“Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong questions.” He strokes my hair like when I was small. “The monster needed entertainment.”

I see the video camera in the corner, its red light blinking. Still recording.

“You need to see,” Carlos whispers. “Need to understand what he is. What they all are.”

He leads me to a laptop. Pushes play. And I watch. Every cut. Every burn. Every scream. I watch Lorenzo Bellanti work with the focus of an artist. The satisfaction of a demon.

I throw up when Luciano finally stops breathing. Again when Lorenzo keeps going.

“He needs to pay,” Carlos says quietly. “They all do. But we’ll need time. Patience. I can help you, Sofia. Help you become what you need to be.”

I touch Luciano’s icy hand. Count the missing fingers.

“I’ll make him suffer,” I whisper. “I’ll destroy everything he loves. Then I’ll destroy him.”

Ivan squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll make the arrangements. But Sofia?” He turns me to face him, eyes glittering. “The Bellanti are powerful. Connected. If we do this, there’s no halfway. You’ll need to be perfect. Patient. Are you sure?”

I look at my brother’s body one last time. Think of his laugh. His stupid jokes. The way he protected me.

“Yes.” The word feels like a blade in my mouth. “Whatever it takes.”

I don’t see Carlo’s smile. Don’t recognize the calculation in his eyes. Don’t realize I’ve just traded one monster for another.

I only know that on this night, Sofia Bianchi dies with her brother.

And who rises from the blood is someone else entirely.

2

Sofia

Islidethecrystaltumbleracross the bar top, stopping it perfectly in front of the Wall Street executive who's been mentally undressing me for the last hour.

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