Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Was, I noted. Past tense. My mind raced. Were both my parents dead then? If that was the case, how had I ended up in the system, so far away from the Isle?
"This isn't my story nor my place to tell you," he added, a hint of finality in his voice, "but you'll be hearing it soon."
I didn’t respond, unsure whether I even wanted to hear the truth. His gaze swept over me, assessing as if weighing my worth. “Do you know who I am?”
I was a bit taken aback by the switch-up. Shouldn’t he have started with that? “I know more of who your son is.”
His smile broadened, a flash of geniality cutting through the tension for the first time. "That's a good answer," he said, clearly pleased by my reply.
“Still,” he continued, his tone carrying that unsettling edge, “you’d do well to understand that knowing my son means you’re only scratching the surface.” His eyes bore into mine, a reminder that beneath every layer of this place, there was something darker. Something yet to be revealed.
“What more is there I need to know?"
He stood and moved closer; his gaze unyielding. "Everything, Lolita. And in time, you’ll know it all."
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know if I had spoken out of defiance or instinct, but something told me he already knew the answer to my rhetorical question. He had watched me, seen me grapple with this world, with Alexander. I realized he wasn’t looking for any kind of confession, ignorance, or knowledge. He was measuring something deeper.
"It goes without saying," he began to speak again, "I am very protective of my children—especially my son. His position comes with a heavy burden, but he carries it with ease. I could not be prouder of him." He paused, his expression softening slightly. "The Isle chose Alexander. My daughter tells me it has chosen you too."
I recalled Esther’s words: "When someone is chosen, it's not just by the people, or by our Carnalis Dominus. It's by the very land we stand on." The weight of them pressed down on me now, heavier, and more ominous than before.
He watched me closely, waiting. "What do you think?"
I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “I suppose... your daughter could have been right.”
Another slow, genuine smile crept across his face, and something about it unsettled me even more.
"I think she’s right about most things," he replied, satisfaction evident in his tone.
Suddenly, he was right there, his frame towering over me. My heart pounded in my chest, my pulse quickening.
"It was very nice to see you again, Lolita." His hands found my shoulders, a light but undeniably possessive touch. Then, without warning, he leaned down, brushing his lips against my cheek in a gesture that felt far too intimate.
"Our family can't wait to do the same."
The moment he stepped back, the air between us felt charged with unspoken tension. He left the room, but his presence clung to me like a shadow, refusing to let go. I was left alone, my mind racing in the silence that followed his departure. The weight of his words lingered, heavy and suffocating, wrapping around me like a noose.
I didn’t know how much time passed as I stood there, the events of the evening running through my mind in a loop. How was I supposed to manage all of this? The truth about my parents, the rituals, the man I was meant to marry.
When Alexander finally came for me, it felt like an eternity had passed. But there he was, just as he had been the first time we met—no mask, no ceremonial robes. Just the gorgeous man I had stumbled upon by accident in that hotel suite.
"Deliciae," he murmured, his voice rich and affectionate, as if nothing had happened. He walked straight to me, his aura commanding as always, and without hesitation, he drew me into his arms, enveloping me in the warmth I was so conflicted by. “It’s been too long without you."
I couldn’t find words to reply.
Alexander, always attuned to my silence, cupped my face gently, tilting it up to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with something intense as he leaned down to kiss me. His lips were soft but insistent, possessive, pulling me under the same way he always did. I found myself melting into his kiss. But then, memories of Nicolette's screams flooded my mind. Her bloodied mouth and broken figure were carried away like a lifeless doll.
"Nicolette," I gasped, pulling away from him.
Alexander's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable as he gazed at me.
His thumb gently brushed over my cheek in a comforting gesture, though his words were anything but. "She got what she deserved, Lolita."
“But what did she say that was so wrong? That warranted... that?”
He stroked my cheek again, his touch tender. “Come with me,” he demanded after a moment, his voice soft yet firm.