Chapter 2 - Shadows of Blackwood
The SUV moved like a ghost through the winding streets,
blurring the city lights into streaks of neon.
I sat huddled in the back seat,
wrapped in Adrian’s oversized jacket,
the scent of him acting as a fragile anchor.
"Where are we going?"
I asked,
my voice barely a breath.
"To a place where even the devil wouldn't dare to knock,"
Adrian replied,
his eyes never leaving the rearview mirror.
He was checking for tails,
his movements precise,
calculated,
and terrifying.
We eventually left the city behind,
the skyscrapers replaced by towering oaks and iron gates.
This was Blackwood,
the ancestral stronghold of the Viscari empire.
The gates opened silently,
swallowing us into a world of stone and silence.
The house was a fortress,
lit by dim lanterns that cast long,
distorted shadows.
Adrian helped me out of the car,
his hand firm on the small of my back.
"You're safe here,"
he said,
though the word felt heavy,
almost like a lie.
We walked through the grand foyer,
the walls lined with portraits of men who looked just as cold as him.
He led me to a private study,
where a fire was already crackling in the hearth.
He sat me down in a leather chair,
then poured two fingers of amber liquid into a glass.
"Drink,"
he commanded,
placing the glass in my shaking hand.
The liquid burned my throat,
but it settled the ice in my veins.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph,
the one with the scratched-out face.
"Tell me everything you remember about the night your mother died,"
he said,
leaning against the desk.
I closed my eyes,
seeing the smoke,
hearing the screams,
feeling the heat of the flames.
"There was a man,"
I whispered,
"with a ring."
"A ring with a serpent?"
Adrian asked,
his voice dropping to a dangerous level.
I nodded,
the memory hitting me like a physical blow.
"He told her she couldn't hide the bloodline forever,"
I continued,
"and then the house exploded."
Adrian looked at the photo,
his thumb tracing the edge of my twelve-year-old face.
"Your mother was Elara Rossi,"
he said,
his voice thick with an emotion I couldn't name.
"The daughter of the man who built the foundation of this city."
"She was a Viscari by blood,"
"and a queen by right."
I felt the world tilt on its axis,
the floor falling away beneath my feet.
"Then why did she hide?"
I asked,
the tears finally spilling over.
"Because the men who killed her,"
Adrian said,
looking me dead in the eye,
"are the same men who put Marcus Blake in your bed."
"They didn't want you dead,"
"they wanted you found."
May you like
"And now,"
"they know where you are."
