Lost In The Darkness {Edited}

Chapter~61

Chapter 60 was a flashback, and chapter 59 ended with:

"You think this is some kind of game?" I demanded, incredulous. "People are dead, and you're standing there like you're critiquing a painting!"

Her smile widened, sending a chill down my spine. "Oh, darling, you have no idea what kind of masterpiece I'm capable of creating. And this? This is just the beginning."
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Vanessa's POV

"Well, if you'll excuse me..." I flashed a maniacal grin toward my brother. "I've got another skull to add to my collection."

There was a certain thrill in the air. An excitement I couldn't quite put into words. With a final look at Dante-who was all too oblivious to the bloodthirsty joy bubbling inside me-I strutted toward the hanging head of their precious Marco.

I climbed onto the table with all the grace of a predator, savoring the soft creak of the wood beneath me. The head hung there like a trophy. His eyes were still wide open, frozen in terror, trapped in a moment that would never be released.

I reached up and yanked it down, the severed neck flopping against my hands like a ragdoll. My fingers twitched as I fished the knife out of my pocket, my grin widening. This was going to be fun.

I was just about to slice the skin from his skull, when-

"What the hell are you doing?"

The voice shattered the silence. Before I could even process the interruption, a hand grabbed the head from my hands, yanking it away.

Dante. Of course. Always meddling.

My eyes snapped toward him, and my smile curled into something dark and dangerous. "How about you don't interfere in my business?" I hissed, my tone like venom dripping from every word. "You've got your own mess to clean up. This... this is mine."

The nerve of him, stopping me from doing what felt right-what I needed to do. How dare he? How dare he?

I glared at him, fingers still trembling with anticipation, the knife gleaming under the dim light. "Step aside, Dante, before I start making this personal."

"Dante, give it back to her," Dad's voice sliced through the air, cold and controlled, but there was an edge to it that made it clear Dante had stepped too far. That said- Do not tempt your fate or it might bite you in the back.

"Dad, this is Marco," Dante's voice was thick with disbelief, his words clipped, like he couldn't even fathom what he was being asked to do. "A man who was part of this family. And you want me to stand by while his head gets tossed around like some piece of trash? What the hell is wrong with you?" His eyes burned with frustration, but it wasn't just confusion-he was desperate to make sense of the chaos, to make this feel like it could be fixed. But it couldn't. None of them understood that yet.

He turned to me, his gaze sharp with disgust. "And you? You're a fucking monster. I can't believe we share the same blood."

The venom in his words hit, sure-but it only made my grin stretch wider. How sweet. Dante thought he could change anything, that there was some line I wouldn't cross. He didn't get it. He never would. And that's what made it so fucking funny.

"Keep it up, Dante," I said, my voice a low hiss. "You keep thinking you're in control, but if you think I give two flying fucks, then you are wrong. I give zero fucks."

"What the hell is going on here?" Nic's voice broke through the tense silence, his words trembling with shock. His wheelchair rolled slowly forward, Armano pushing him with careful urgency, but Nic's eyes were glued to the bloodied scene in front of him. Angelo stood frozen by the door, his gaze wide and unblinking. The sight of them-frozen in horror, struggling to comprehend the grotesque artwork I had painted-was almost... beautiful. Almost.