Page 103 of Decimation

And when the time is right, when Antonio comes knocking with that predictable, righteous fury blazing in his eyes, the final act will begin.

A smile touches my lips. It’s a slow, creeping thing, a crack spreading across a frozen lake. I can feel it pulling at the muscles of my face, a sensation so unfamiliar it’s almost painful.

Everything is slipping into place.

I stand and move to the side of the bed.

This is my divine retribution.

Not a quick, merciful death, but this.

I am not just taking his power; I am taking his soul, one drugged, terrified heartbeat at a time.

“Sleep well, brother,” I murmur, my voice a velvet purr in the sepulchral silence. “When you wake, we will all begin our life together. Just as it should have been.”

The lamp flickers, the shadows dance, and I stand there, a dark sentinel, watching over my greatest work. The hatred is a pure, white-hot sun in my chest, and for the first time in my life, I feel its warmth.

Three weeks have passed. Three weeks of me play pretending, me being my brother and ensuring no one suspects.

I know things have happened, secrets, a certain kidnapping. Do I feel guilty about it? Do I feel conflicted at the idea of Grace Ratcliffe being used as collateral? Being hurt, traumatised, just so I can get what I want?

No. Not for one fucking second.

I have waited, I have planned, I have thought through every other alternative and this is the only way. This is the only option. So why agonise over it? Why waste my time and energy thinking about something that cannot be changed?

I have stayed away from Leandra, God help me, it has almost killed me to do it, but it too is necessary. I cannot afford to fuck up now; I cannot afford for anyone to go down to the dungeons and accidentally find my brother. I am so close to tasting victory, so fucking close. I know a little sacrifice now on both mine and Leandra’s parts will allow us to reap all the rewards of heaven itself.

“The Esau have Grace,” Antonio says, cutting through my thoughts.

I have my back to him, have had my back to him as I hear hid approach. I’ve been standing on the veranda, staring out as if I am my brother, lost in my thoughts, lost in my grief.

I let my smile vanish, sharpening my gaze into something analytical, calculating, something so like Konstantine. “A pity. She was a beautiful creature. A somewhat reckless one, but beautiful nonetheless.”

I watch Antonio’s reaction, the way his jaw tightens, the way his temper flares at the casual dismissal of her life. Would I behave the same if someone said that about Leandra? Probably, but Antonio is not me. And right now, I’m the one holding all the cards, he just doesn’t know it.

“They are using her as a bargaining chip,” Antonio says, his voice tight.

“And what is their price?” I ask, though I already know. I just want to hear him say it. I want to see the treason twist his face as he speaks those words.

“They want me to kill you.”

For a moment, the only sound is the distant burble of the fountain. I watch him, letting the silence stretch, letting him feel the weight of it. Then I laugh, a dry, rattling sound, full of genuine amusement. It’s Konstantine’s laugh, but it’s mine too.

“Of course they do,” I say, shaking my head as if at a child’s foolish prank. “Having tried and failed so many times, now they seek to turn my most devoted man against me. They always did lack imagination.”

I lean forward slightly, emphasising that I have all the control here, all the power. “And you came to tell me this? To warn me? How loyal.”

“It’s not a warning,” Antonio snaps, the ice in his voice cracking. “It is a statement of fact. They have my wife, who happens to be pregnant.”

Now that I did not expect. My face reacts on its own, my eyes narrow and then I remember that Konstantine made a deal with Antonio. He allowed him to marry the traitor on the condition that he did not breed her, that they had no issue, no children together.

How fucking perfect that he broke this, that he too is a sinner, just like the rest of us. It certainly takes the pressure up a notch, doesn’t it? It’s not just his wife now but a child, an heir whose life is on the line. Fuck me, I couldn’t have planned this better myself.

“She is enemy blood, Antonio.” I snap, “You swore an oath to me, when you married her. You swore she would never bear you a child. That was the deal we made. That was the price you agreed on.”

“I might have made that deal then,” Antonio says, his voice low, guttural, barely recognizable. “But circumstances have changed.”

“Circumstances never change,” I thunder, letting my voice boom, echoing off the stone walls, silencing the birds in the trees. The guards around us tense almost imperceptibly. “The war does not change. The divide does not change. Our sacred duty to purge their filth from this earth does not change. You allowed sentiment to cloud your purpose. You became weak, you broke your vow. I’ve sent men to Oblivion for less.”