Lost In The Darkness {Edited}

Chapter~62

Shadow's POV:-

I dragged the blade slowly across his cheek — not deep enough to kill, just enough to remind him he still had nerves left to burn. Blood welled up in a thin red line, trembling down his face like a tear. He whimpered. I smiled.

I wiped the knife clean on his shirt — not for hygiene, but for humiliation. It was soaked through anyway — with blood, sweat, piss. He reeked of failure. Of fear. And underneath that, something fouler: guilt.

I didn’t need full proof. Just a scent of what he was — and I’d caught it. The way he watched the boy, too long, too intently. Like a spider watches its web twitch.

“You knew I’d come for you, didn’t you?” I leaned close, the knife’s tip teasing the underside of his jaw. “You fuckers always think you're shadows.”

His eyes were barely open now, but they flickered — with recognition. With dread. Good.

I didn’t rush. No, pain is a conversation. And I wanted him fluent.

His fingernails had been the first to go. Easy. Almost polite. Just a warm-up. The sound they made when they tore — a wet snap — it stayed with me. He’d screamed then, begged, spat lies.

Then came the fingers. Two at first, then another. I didn’t sever them fast. I crushed the bone at the joint, twisted until it cracked like dry wood, then cut through the meat. Slow. Precise. Surgical rage.

He passed out when I began peeling skin from his forearm. I waited. Let him wake back up. You don't waste a canvas mid-artwork.

His legs were done. Kneecaps shattered like glass beneath the hammer. The bone splinters pushed through flesh, poking out like white thorns. I made him look at them. I made him count them.

But still — he hadn't told me. Not the real reason. Not the truth. Why that child? What did he want?

“You’re not afraid of death,” I whispered. “You're afraid of dying wrong.”

I crouched beside him, held his chin so he had no choice but to see my eyes. “But that’s the thing, coward. There’s no right way to die when you touch children.”

His lip trembled. One of them was split. He tried to speak — maybe beg, maybe lie again. I shoved the blade into his thigh and twisted it. His scream came from someplace primal — like something ancient and helpless was dying inside him.

“I’m going to cut your face off next,” I said quietly. “Strip it off and hold it in front of you. You’ll watch yourself die before you go. Because that kid you followed? He matters. You don’t.”

And as his scream twisted into sobs, I felt it — And still — still — he hadn’t said the name I needed.

Now, all I saw in those eyes was a soul trying to retreat, to fold in on itself and hide. But I wasn’t done.

Because monsters don’t get mercy. They get mirrors. And I was his.

~•~•~•~

I buttoned up the shirt, crisp and clean, like my hands hadn’t just torn open the flesh of a monster an hour ago. Not a trace left beneath my fingernails. No blood under the cuffs. Just silence. Composure. Like sin could be folded away with cotton.

Now here I am — dressed like a man of honor. What a fucking irony.

If I hadn’t let the anger get ahead of the questions, maybe I’d know more than I do now. Maybe I’d know why he was watching Lucas’s little brother — tracking him like prey. But I’d let rage speak louder than reason. Again.

My brother pulled me into this mess, and this one’s deep. No deniability, no easy exit. Just obligation.

I’ve been watching Lucas and his family, keeping their shadows close to mine. Making sure no harm touches them — at least, not from the outside. But lately… Lucas has been slipping.

His behavior is off. Calculated in a way that doesn't feel like fear — it feels like design. Like he’s part of something bigger, and he’s just waiting for the right move. There’s a weight in the way he breathes now. Secrets wear on a person. I see it in his spine.

And sometimes, God help me, I feel like he knows. Like he can feel my eyes on him through the dark. He pauses in just the right places, looks over his shoulder at just the wrong times. He shouldn’t know. But I’ve learned never to assume when it comes to Lucas.

The truth?

He can’t be trusted. Not anymore.

He disappears — not often, but enough. Always near the turf of the Giordanos. And when he does… it’s like he vanishes from the grid. No trail, no camera ping, no sound. Just gone.

And then he reappears like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just walk through fire with clean boots.

What is his connection to the Giordanos?

That question’s been gnawing at me like rot beneath the floorboards — quiet, invisible, but spreading fast. I can feel it now, like a splinter under the skin, something sharp and infected just waiting for the right moment to rip open. There’s something beneath Lucas’s silence, beneath those sudden disappearances. Something coiled. And when it strikes… I’ll be ready.

Because this time, it’s personal.

I can’t let him hurt Vanessa. Not ever again.

She’s been through enough — clawed her way out of hell with blood under her nails. And I’ve walked beside her since the day I helped  her escape out of that basement, both of us broken, both of us pretending we weren’t. She thinks I’m just her partner in this war. Her right hand. Her blade. Her shadow.

But she doesn’t know the truth.

She doesn’t know I’m the last maternal blood tie she has left. Her mother’s brother. The one who should’ve stopped it all before it began.

I failed her once — the day I turned away from the monster I called my sister. I saw the cracks early. I saw the rot in her smile, the hunger in her eyes. But I stayed quiet. Because, even if crazy- she was supposedly a mother. One who pretended to love her kids. I made excuses. Family does that, sometimes — until it’s too late.

And while I looked away, she sold her own daughter into a nightmare.

I will never forgive myself for that. I live with it every time Vanessa walks into a room — sharp, focused, deadly — and never once realizes the man at her side is the same one who failed to save her when she needed it most.

But that ends now.

Even if she turns on me. Even if she spits in my face one day when the truth comes out — I’ll take it. I deserve worse.

What matters is that no one ever touches her again. Not Lucas. Not the Giordanos. Not anyone.

I’ll tear the whole world down before I let her bleed for someone else’s secrets again.

I shook the thoughts out of my head and went to check on Sophia, just to make sure she was still sleeping.

All the while, my mind whispered the same cruel truth —
she was another one I failed to protect.

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A/N:- Did you like the chapter?

I hope you did!!

Your opinions? Any thoughts or feedback?

Well here's mine- I feel like taking the book down because I am stuck in the writer's block, I have no idea what I'm doing and I think it needs a lot of work. And since I keep unfulfilling my updating schedule promises, I feel like editing it once and completing it first in my draft and then publish it

Any THEORIES on what might happen next??

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Love,
Ms_CornSalad❤️