The silence felt like it was pressing in on me, like the cold, damp stone walls of the prison were alive—watching, judging, echoing back every fragment of my broken thoughts. I sat huddled near the rusted iron bars, trying to ignore the way the darkness seemed to breathe around me. My body ached; every bruise screamed, every bone ached. I wiped my mouth with trembling fingers and flinched at the sight of blood. I must’ve bitten my lip when they threw me in.
And yet, none of the physical pain compared to the wound tearing open inside my chest. Luca’s words echoed louder than any chain rattle: "If you are truly guilty... that will hurt me the most." I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip the very air apart.
I had tried. Goddess knows I had tried. I gave up revenge—for a moment. I thought I co
