Semua Bab Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation : Bab 101 - Bab 110

‎The door to Leo’s room was shut, muffling the sound of the storm raging quietly inside his chest.‎‎He sat curled in a corner of the room, the lights dimmed, his knees drawn to his chest. A sharp piece of glass from a shattered perfume bottle lay beside him, crimson smearing across his palm where he had gripped it too tightly. His breathing was shallow, and tears streamed silently down his cheeks.‎‎Rem was in the same house.‎The man who once held him close.‎The man who vanished.‎The man who tried to kill Kane.‎‎Now sleeping under the same roof as if nothing had ever happened.‎Leo bit down a sob, rocking slightly as he cradled his bleeding hand.‎The door creaked open.‎‎Kane stepped in, his eyes instantly scanning the room—until he saw Leo.‎Leo had tucked his face into his knees, trembling, hiding his tears. Kane moved slowly, the way one approaches a wounded animal. His eyes landed on the blood.‎‎“Leo…”‎Kane dropped to his knees, gently pulling his brother out of the c

‎Kane's Office......‎‎The silence between them was suffocating.‎‎Castelle stood there, her eyes puffy, cheeks damp, chest heaving like she’d run miles—but it was the desperation in her voice that made Kane's heart falter.‎‎"Please… please, Kane…" she whispered, voice cracking as she stepped closer. "Just… give me my brother back… I-I'll leave… I'll take him… We'll go far away… You'll never have to see me again."‎‎Kane's head snapped up, eyes narrowing, the air in the room tightening like a noose.‎‎"What?" His voice was low, dangerous. Controlled, but barely.‎‎At the far side of the office, Lucien and Matteo—who had been leaning casually by the shelves—immediately straightened. The tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes sharpened… they felt the shift too.‎‎Castelle's lips trembled as she kept speaking, frantic now, eyes glassy. "I mean it… I won’t stand in your way anymore. You… you hate me now anyway, I know that—" Her voice cracked, her fingers twisting together

‎‎The first hint of dawn slipped through the curtains.‎Castelle hadn't slept.‎Neither had Kane — at least, not properly.‎‎But his body had relaxed somewhere in the night. His breathing evened out. The rigid line of his shoulders softened, and the dangerous coil of tension he'd worn like armor finally eased… if only slightly.‎‎Castelle lay beside him, curled in on herself, careful not to touch him unless he allowed it.‎The ache in her chest hadn't dulled. Her guilt sat heavy on her ribs like dead weight.‎‎She thought he'd fallen asleep, but then his voice—rough, low—cut through the quiet:‎"You're still awake."‎It wasn’t a question.‎Castelle hesitated. "Yeah."‎A long pause.‎‎Kane stared at the ceiling, eyes unreadable. His fingers flexed lightly on the sheet between them.‎‎"You always do this," he murmured, voice quieter now. "You run me in circles. Make me angry enough to tear walls down… then sneak into bed like nothing happened."‎‎Her throat tightened. "I'm not… p

The hour was too late for comfort. Midnight had come and gone, leaving Matteo alone in his quarters, a dimly lit sanctuary within the sprawling mansion that served as the family's fortress. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and cigar smoke, remnants of earlier meetings that had dragged on into the night. Golden shadows danced across the walls from the lone lamp on his desk, flickering like the embers of a fire that refused to die. Outside, the city sprawled beneath a veil of darkness, its lights twinkling like distant stars, oblivious to the undercurrents of power and peril that pulsed through the veins of those who dwelled in this world of shadows.Matteo sat hunched in his chair, elbows digging into his knees as if the pressure could steady the storm raging inside him. His phone lay in his palm, its screen glowing faintly with the last message from Obi: *The docks. Two nights ago.* The words stared back at him, stark and unyielding, a summons that carried the weight of u

Back in her quarters, Castelle prepared for the next phase with the precision of a general readying for battle. The room was a haven of luxury—silk sheets, velvet drapes, and a dresser lined with the finest clothes money could buy—but tonight, it felt like armor. She stripped off her clothes, standing naked before the mirror, her reflection a study in determination. Her body was a tool, honed by years in this world, and she knew how to use it. If I can distract him long enough, she thought, her inner narration a whirlwind of strategy, he won't leave for the docks. He won't go after Rem.She chose her outfit with care: a silk slip that clung to her curves like a second skin, its deep red hue a stark contrast to her pale skin. Bare feet padded across the floor, her hair loose and cascading down her back in dark waves—the picture of vulnerability, the image Kane craved. It was a disguise, a mask to hide the turmoil beneath. She slipped on a robe, not to cover herself, but to build antici