Page 104 of Cruel Deception
Maybe he’d let me starve to death.
Or maybe this was the moment he’d become like Luca. Show his real face.
I backed slowly into the room, praying, trembling.
The door suddenly opened.
I almost screamed. I flinched so hard my back hit the wall.
He walked in—slowly, silently—and moved toward the place where my bullet had landed. He crouched and ran two fingers through the dried blood on the floor.
“This could’ve been my blood,” he said, almost to himself.
Then he stood. Turned to me.
“The bulletproof vest is designed to spill fake blood,” he continued. “To deceive the enemy. To make them believe you’re dead. Useful in the right hands.”
He walked forward and sat down before me. Calmly. Casually. Like a king settling on a throne while deciding a peasant’s fate.
His eyes burned into me. Not with rage, but with calculation. Cold. Deadly.
I could feel him peeling me apart without even raising his voice.
“I’ll take whatever you give me,” I whispered. “Just... don’t look at me like that. I know I deserve pain.”
“What pain, Charlotte?” he asked, tilting his head.
“The punishment,” I said, voice shaking. “I know it’s coming. I know I deserve it.”
He smiled darkly. Not kindly. Not with warmth.
“Of course you do. Even before you shot me, you deserved my punishment.”
He leaned back, crossing his legs.
“And tell me,” he said. “How exactly did you think killing me would help you find your mother?”
I swallowed again. My throat felt like it was stuffed with glass. “It was an accident. I was just... trying to threaten you. To make you speak.”
He exhaled slowly.
“I see how volatile you’ve become,” he said coldly. “You couldn’t shoot your violators, but you shot me? You shot the man who hunted them down, who let you watch them beg before they died. You didn’t kill the monsters, Charlotte. You killed the man who avenged you.”
I froze.
His eyes narrowed.
He wasn’t finished.
“I had wishes... fantasies, even. That I could give you some level of freedom. I tried, Charlotte. I fucking tried,” he said bitterly. “To make you feel like a wife. Like a person. Even though everything in me wanted to leash you like a dog and lock you in a fucking cage. I restrained myself. I gave you space. I treated you better than your family ever did.”
He leaned forward slightly, voice darker, softer.
“But now? You’ve pushed me too far. By shooting me, you told me what you really are. You told me I should stop restraining myself. You showed me you’re just as heartless as your mother.”
His voice dropped, bitter and lethal.
“And so you will suffer. By my hands. You’ll regret the day you said ‘I do’ at that altar.”
