Veiled in Rivalry | The Dark Tale of Passion and Power| [18+]

Chapter 50: The Weight of Secrets

"In the silence of shadows, truths linger like ghosts, haunting the edges of our fragile reality."
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Lara Volkov Giovanni
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The morning air clings to me, heavy with the weight of yesterday. I can feel it in my bones, like a silent threat lingering in the corners of my mind. I wake up, pushing away the tension coiled tight inside me, and move through the motions of my routine. A quick shower, the water cool against my skin, washes away some of the unease but not all of it. I slip into a modest black dress, something simple, something grounding.

I head straight for the basement. My heart pounds in my chest, louder with each step.

The basement is dark, the air stale and thick. I search every shadowed corner, every inch of cold concrete, but there's nothing. No trace, no sign of what was once here. Just empty space and the silence that gnaws at me. Whoever took them was careful—too careful. My fingers graze the wall as I turn, a bitter taste rising in my throat. I've lost them. Whatever evidence I had, whatever power I thought I held, it's vanished.

Climbing back upstairs, the weight of failure clings to me. The castle is quiet, too quiet, as if it's holding its breath.

And then I see him.

Viktor.

He's sitting on the couch, his back to me, but the energy in the room shifts the moment I step in. I can feel it, the dark pull of him, as if he knows everything before I even say a word. My pulse quickens, my steps slow.

I walk around to face him, and his eyes lock on mine, sharp and cold like polished steel. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, a dangerous, knowing curve that sends a shiver down my spine.

"So... the vault is missing, and so is Judy, aye?" Viktor's voice is smooth, too smooth, as if he's amused by the chaos I've barely contained.

My breath hitches. He knows. Of course, he knows. My chest tightens as I stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him. "How do you...?" My words falter, but deep down, I already understand. Viktor always knows more than he lets on.

His gaze doesn't waver. "I have my ways." He leans back casually, his arm draped over the couch, but there's a tension in him, a current of danger just beneath the surface. "But what I'm really interested in is why. Why take such a risk on your own, Lara?"

I can't avoid this now. The truth has to come out. Slowly, I sit next to him, my body stiff with the weight of what I'm about to confess. I draw in a breath, steeling myself. "A month ago..." I begin, my voice quieter than I mean it to be, "I saw the news. The disappearances... the children. Their murders." I glance at Viktor, his eyes unreadable, but I push forward. "I couldn't just stand by and do nothing, Viktor. I had to act. So I built Judy. At first, he was just a project, but I made him... fully functional."

His brow furrows slightly, though he says nothing. The tension between us tightens.

"I programmed him," I continue, "to help me bring justice. To right the wrongs. And when I found out that Prime Minister Nikolai Mikhailov was behind it all—the disappearances, the killings—I couldn't let him go unpunished." My fingers twist together in my lap, the memories rushing back. "I ordered Judy to kidnap his guards, his men, and bring them here. He did exactly what I asked. They were all tied up, down in the basement."

"And the Prime Minister?" Viktor's voice is calm, but there's an edge to it that makes my heart stutter.

I exhale slowly. "Judy brought him here, too. Quietly, without drawing attention. I... I questioned him, Viktor." My voice wavers, the memory sharp and vivid. "He wouldn't talk at first, so I... I cut off his fingers."