I never liked calling her Camilla.
That na had been stained by Wisteria.
So to , she would always be Whitney.
She was like a snowflake, fragile and lost, with nowhere safe to land. But now that I had found her again, I wanted her life to move forward in peace.
Whitney bit her lip.
"But Elena, I still feel uneasy. He won’t let go that easily."
"It’s okay," I said. "One step at a ti. Lewis and I are here. The most important thing is that you don’t give up. Whitney, trust . You still have so much to live for. Don’t let one scumbag ruin your whole life. There are people in this world who will love you."
Whitney suddenly wrapped her arms around tightly.
"Elena, I never want to leave you again."
I held her back and smiled.
"Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere."
"Okay."
"For now, just cooperate with Vito. Don’t provoke him. Once the chip is removed, we’ll decide what to do next."
She nodded through her tears.
"You paved this road for with your blood. I won’t let you down."
The determination in her eyes finally eased sothing inside .
"Good."
This house was full of people hiding things.
Not long after, Vito’s wounds were wrapped up. He stood by the door, his deep eyes fixed only on Whitney. It was not until he stopped smiling that I noticed how much his eyes looked like Lewis’s. Dark. Deep. Impossible to read. Like a midnight sky with no stars.
"Camilla, co here," he said.
Whitney glanced at first.
I squeezed her hand gently, reminding her of what we agreed.
She did not fight him. She calmly walked over to Vito without provoking him. I knew better than to interfere right now, so I simply kept walking past them.
Still, worry stayed in my chest.
Amber’s behavior had been strange, almost unstable. And Vito... I could not help wondering if he had inherited that sa darkness from her.
At the end of the hallway, I turned back.
And froze.
Vito had pulled Whitney into a tight embrace. His tall fra covered hers almost completely. Even from that distance, I could hear the tremor in his voice.
"Camilla... do you really want to leave that badly?"
How different life would have been if Vito had not been born a Blackwell.
I let out a soft sigh and turned away. Lewis and Yael were nowhere in sight, but then a cry of pain ca from Yael’s room. My heart jumped. For a second, I worried Lewis might have gone too far, so I followed the sound.
The room slled strongly of blood.
Lewis stood by the bed with his sleeves rolled up, his watch set aside. There was a dagger in his hand, the blade sared with ointnt. His eyes were cold in a way that made the whole room feel dangerous.
"So, dear cousin," he said icily, "do you like my mate that much?"
As he spoke, he slowly dragged the flat of the blade across Yael’s back. I could see the blurred wound there, and the untouched skin around it had broken out in goosebumps.
I had never seen anyone use a knife to apply dicine before.
For one strange second, I honestly could not tell which of them was more twisted.
"Lewis."
I pushed the half-open door wider and stepped inside.
The mont he saw , sothing uneasy flashed across his face. Yael looked up too, wearing that sa innocent expression of his.
"Elena..."
Lewis imdiately tossed the dagger aside. "Don’t misunderstand. I was just cutting open his bandages."
I looked at Yael’s bleeding back, then smiled faintly. "Go ahead. It’s fine."
I did not bla Lewis.
Yael was not innocent either. His hard life was not my fault, but he had still played a part in separating Lewis and . He had hurt in ways I could never deny. He had taken my voice. He had dragged into suffering.
And Lewis had always stood on my side without hesitation.
What we had between us had already crossed the line between life and death. There was no point pretending otherwise.
Disappointnt flickered in Yael’s eyes, but I ignored it and looked around the room instead.
Lewis seed to lose interest in tornting him after that. He set the knife aside and started treating the wound properly.
As I glanced around, my eyes landed on a frad photo.
It showed a couple with two children.
Amber looked much younger there, probably in her forties or fifties now but appearing barely in her thirties in the picture. She carried that sa cold beauty, though in the photo she looked younger, quieter, almost naive, like a woman in her early twenties. The man beside her was tall and dignified, and he looked a lot like Vito. His arm rested lightly on Amber’s shoulder, and his face carried a gentle, refined warmth.
Vito looked truly happy in that photo.
Then there was Yael, maybe around one year old, dressed in yellow duck overalls. His cheeks were soft and round, and his slightly curly hair made him look almost angelic. He resembled Amber a lot, but unlike her serious face, he smiled brightly.
The man and the boys all looked happy.
It seed to be their only family photo.
"How did your father die?" I asked.
"In a car accident," Yael replied. He lay on the pillow with his back to , his voice quieter now.
After a pause, he said, "Elena, I know you want to take Whitney away. You think Vito is a monster, but you’ve misunderstood him. Without Vito, she would have died a long ti ago."
I stayed silent and let him continue.
"When Whitney first ca to the Blackwells at five years old, my father hated the Morrigans so much that killing her would have ant nothing to him. Vito may have restricted her freedom, but he still gave her the best life he could. Without him, she could have ended up as a blood donor, a source for organs, or worse. She could have beco soone’s toy. Vito has always been the one shielding her."
His voice grew lower.
"You’ve only been here a few days, Elena. What do you really know about us? You see the Morrigans as victims, but haven’t the Blackwells suffered too? My father lived with the bitterness left behind by the older generation. He struggled with schizophrenia and depression. He watched his parents die and carried pain his whole life, even though that life was short."
I had no easy answer for that.
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