chapter five

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let the world burn
chapter five
where do you think you're going, princess?

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「 ✦ MONSTER ✦ 」

I shove Domenico, gesturing for him to step away with me for a moment. My eyes are burning with a mix of excitement and anxiety, the nerves gnawing at me from the inside. Domenico follows, his own eyes reflecting the same intensity. "We did it, brother," he murmurs, grabbing my face and pulling me close until our foreheads touch, our breath mingling in shared anticipation.

"Don't get your hopes up just yet, Nico," I mutter, my voice a low growl. "We're only starting the final phase. If everything goes as planned, we'll be sprawled out under the Hawaiian sun by tomorrow." I can't help but smirk at the thought. "And then we'll come back for him."

Domenico's eyes widen with a mix of joy and disbelief. I can almost smell the adrenaline coursing through his veins. I grab his head, giving him a few playful slaps on the back, my grin stretching wider. "He thought he got rid of us a few years ago," I say, my voice filled with dark satisfaction. "But now we're back—stronger and thirstier for revenge."

Domenico growls in excitement, his energy observable. "For Damiano," he echoes, his voice thick with emotion.

My smile fades, replaced by a cold, hard glare as memories of that day flood back with vivid clarity. The hatred, the blood, the loss—it all feels as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

I close my eyes, the memory unfolding like an old, worn film reel. A young boy sprints through a sunlit field, his laughter echoing through the air, accompanied by the joyful shouts of two older boys chasing after him. The scene is peaceful, a snapshot of innocence and carefree days.

"Gio! Gio! Catch me if you can!" the little boy's voice rings out, piercing the stillness.

"Gio's too slow! I'll catch you instead!" another boy's voice chimes in, the playful taunt blending seamlessly with their laughter.

The memory is so vivid it almost feels like a dream. But then, reality crashes in with a banging, metallic screech. The laughter is abruptly cut off, replaced by the deafening sound of brakes screeching. The sky seems to darken as the black Range Rover skids to a halt.

The noise is as sharp and painful now as it was then, forcing me to clench my eyes shut against the onslaught of grief. The image of the little boy's carefree run is replaced in an instant by his crumpled, bloodied body lying on the ground. The transformation happens in a heartbeat, from laughter to silence, from life to death.

Everything happened so fast. One moment, I'm sprinting after him, trying to catch up, and the next, I'm kneeling on the rough ground, cradling his lifeless body. His soulless eyes stare up at me, the light in them extinguished forever.

"Gio! Giovanni! Do something!" Domenico's desperate, trembling voice echoes in my mind, as clear and urgent as it was that day. I can still hear the panic, the helplessness, as if he's standing right next to me, pleading for a miracle that will never come.

The memory grips me with relentless force, each detail as sharp as a knife. The feel of the boy's small, lifeless body in my arms, the metallic taste of blood in the air, the look of sheer horror on Domenico's face. It's all burned into my consciousness, a nightmare that I can never escape.

Damiano was suddenly taken away from us, leaving a gaping void in our lives. The owner of the Range Rover, my brother's murderer, is the owner of this university—the same man who paid to close the case, walking free while our world crumbled. He bought his way to innocence, leaving us with nothing but grief and rage.

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