Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Monster Remembers
677 Words
-----Luca’s POV-----
The ropes burned.
His wrists. His ankles. His pride.
He was used to control. To silence. To bending others until they snapped—but this? This wasn’t control.
It was rejection.
Because they weren’t just holding him.
They were done with him.
He sat in the center of the room, tied to a chair like a prisoner, and for the first time in years, he felt small.
The door opened.
He didn’t have to look up.
He felt it.
The weight of him.
Axton Creed.
And behind him—Morgan.
Luca didn’t flinch. Didn’t smirk. Not yet.
He just breathed.
Let it build.
The silence.
The tension.
The storm.
Because if this was going to be the end—he wanted it to mean something.
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He’d known Axton would come.
Of course he would.
The man couldn’t stand to let things go. Couldn’t walk away from unfinished business.
And Helen? She wasn’t just unfinished.
She was raw.
Open.
Beautiful.
Luca had seen her on that table.
Stripped. Wrists bound. Breath shallow.
Her eyes wide with terror, her skin blotched from the cold and panic. Her body trembling—not from his touch—but from the threat she knew was coming.
And in that moment, he’d felt it.
Not lust.
Not power.
Jealousy.
Because she looked at Axton like he was her world.
And Luca? He was just the shadow waiting to devour it.
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He’d watched them all walk away.
One by one.
Rourke, with his steadiness.
Silas, with his shadows.
Price, with his haunted silence.
Morgan…
God, Morgan.
She was the first person who made him feel like more than a tool.
The first to challenge him.
The first to look at him like he mattered.
And the first to take it all away.
Because when she chose Axton—when she kissed him behind the mess hall, when Luca caught them pressed against a wall—he didn’t say a word.
But something inside fractured.
He’d never trusted again after that.
Not really.
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Still, when they broke out? When they ran from The Haven?
He almost went with them.
Almost.
But he stayed.
And that decision defined him.
Axton had purpose. Morgan had loyalty. The rest had each other.
But Luca?
He built empires of ash.
He found people like Jason. People who owed him. People who could be bought, broken, or discarded.
Helen was never supposed to be anything more than leverage.
But then she looked at him with those eyes.
Those helpless eyes.
And for the briefest moment—he wanted to be someone else.
Someone she could fear less.
But that wasn't him.
It had never been him.
So he stripped her. Bound her. Threatened her.
Because monsters don’t get happy endings.
They only get remembered for how badly they die.
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The door clicked behind Axton.
Morgan stayed close to his shoulder.
Luca raised his head slowly.
Met Axton’s eyes.
Didn’t smile.
“Looks like you finally got the girl,” he said, voice rasping.
Morgan flinched.
Axton didn’t move.
“But you never could clean up your messes,” Luca continued. “Always needed one of us to do it for you.”
Silence.
It bit harder than a fist.
Luca leaned back.
Or tried to.
The ropes creaked.
He chuckled. “What? No clever monologue? No righteous fury?”
Still nothing.
Just Axton’s eyes.
Cold. Fixed. Burning.
Luca exhaled.
“Do it then.”
Morgan’s fingers twitched at her belt.
Axton stepped forward.
Luca saw it then.
Not rage.
Not hate.
Pity.
And that—that—hurt more than anything.
Because once upon a time, Axton had trusted him.
Had followed him.
Had loved him like a brother.
And now?
Now Luca was a warning.
A lesson.
A ghost.
He let his head fall back against the chair.
Whispered, “Don’t forget who taught you how to survive.”
Axton didn’t blink.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t need to.
Because the reckoning was already here.
And Luca knew he wasn’t walking out of that room.
- Writer
