Page 77 of Stormhold

We crossed the end of the hallway to a large, open room with an entire wall of glass windows overlooking the airy, bright beach. But the scene in front of it was the last thing I’d expected to see. It was so brutal and bloody and gruesome that it took me a moment to make sense of it all. And when I did, I had no doubt that it was a Surman’s work.

Arkane looked like a dead man walking as he stumbled toward the severed head on the table. Any man would be if they had to see their eight-year-old nephew’s lifeless eyes gaping at them, his jaw parted, almost as if the last gasp he took still lingered in the air even though he was long gone.

Amelia’s eldest son, Alessio Stormhold.

It wasn’t even a clean cut. I can’t imagine the pain the boy must’ve gone through in the last moments of his life. It was displayed cruelly, almost as if it were some kind of sick trophy. The act was so intentional that it would be the first thing staring at your face when you entered the room.

His mother was sobbing, clutching the rest of his body, which was discarded on the floor like they had no more use for it. She was a complete mess, her white dress no longer its original color but now marked forever with the stains of her son’s death.

Arkane stood by the table, staring at his nephew’s eyes with a look of defeat and distraught before he whispered something to him that I couldn’t make out. He stood there for another long minute, unmoving, before he signaled to Mikhail, who quickly hurried over and gently took care of it.

Amelia let out a hysterical cry when Mikhail tried to move little Alessio’s body. She screamed, not letting anyone touch her son. Arkane crouched in front of his sister and tried to pry her away from her son’s body.

“They killed him, Kane,” she wailed, sobbing uncontrollably as she held Arkane by his collar. “Th-they killed him, right in front of my eyes.” She rocked her fists against his chest. “Where the fuck were you?”

A swallow worked through Arkane’s throat. He looked helpless as his sister thrashed him. “I’m sorry, Ame,” he whispered in a shattered voice, holding her tight. But she kept thrashing and sobbing uncontrollably, and Arkane didn’t let go and took it all. It wasn’t long before her cries quieted to painful whimpers, and he slowly moved her away.

And Mikhail quietly took Alessio away.

Santino Macini sat like a still statue in the corner of the room, his head buried in his knees, his eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he didn’t want to believe what he had just seen. His son dying right in front of his eyes.

No devastation in the world compared to a mother and a father losing their child. No wonder it was exactly what the enemy wanted if they deliberately left them alive to experience that kind of pain.

The bold act of them risking the truce meant they were ready for war and were ready to face the consequences. Alessio’s death was only going to be the start of many deaths.

It wasn’t long before the entire family arrived. By that time, Arkane’s men had cleaned up the entire scene, but it did nothing to hide the cruel acts these walls witnessed.

Mikhail ushered in a crying Chiara, who immediately went to her sister’s side, followed by Marcus and Jon.

Arkane whispered something in Chiara’s ear, and she nodded. Minutes later, they both quietly consoled Amelia, whose cries quieted to complete silence, her hazy eyes staring into the distance. It was almost as if she no longer existed. Both Jon and Marcus were by her side as they helped her from the floor, and Chiara soon took her away from the room.

Right before she left, Amelia looked over her shoulder, taking one last look at the table that once held her child’s head. Her glazed eyes held so much pain that it would bring any grown man to his knees. Chiara whispered something in her ear. Amelia didn’t even acknowledge her as tears streamed down her cheeks, almost as if her body was frozen in unexplainable agony. Chiara was able to slowly tug her away from the room; her body moved, but Amelia never stopped looking at the table as they disappeared out the door.

Jon followed his sisters quietly. The look on his face was the same as that day at the pier, only more colder, like a monster whose only urge was to kill everything in its path.

Marcus, who still had a sling carrying his left arm, limped over to his father’s side and squeezed his shoulder. Marcus looked half himself, face still in various shades of blue and purple, with the look of utter loss in his eyes.

I could feel the anger coming off in waves from Victor Stormhold as he regarded Arkane, who didn’t even bother with him. I couldn’t believe the audacity of that man to put all his mistakes on Arkane’s shoulders instead of doing his duty as a father. I could tell he wanted to lash out at Arkane right at this moment, but the time and place wouldn’t allow him.

Lucien Greigewood and Karl Ford arrived next, and they immediately took Arkane’s side. A fierce discussion transpired between the three of them for the next five minutes, after which they nodded stiffly and left.

It was only then that I noticed Grayson Stormhold was missing. I thought he would be the first one to storm in demanding retaliation. Or had he already let his anger decide otherwise?

I didn’t know if I should stay or, as an outsider, be a witness to a family’s loss, but my heart wouldn’t let me leave Arkane alone. So I stayed, disappearing into a corner, but Arkane’s eyes found me anyway.

My eyes widened when he broke through the crowd and made his way over to me, and my heart skipped a beat when he took my hand in his, holding it tight before turning to Mikhail and speaking to him in hushed tones.

I hardly heard a thing they said, because all I could feel was his touch.

A simple act of comfort. And he wanted that from me.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in came Simon, rushing toward Mikhail and whispering something in his ear, who in turn swiftly nodded and conveyed the message to Arkane. And from the look on Arkane’s face, I could tell it was bad news once again.

In the height of sadness, no one in the room noticed the interaction.

Arkane cursed under his breath and was already walking out of the room, tugging me along with him. Marcus and his father watched us in confusion as we exited, but Arkane didn’t even spare them a glance.

“What is it?” I asked just as we reached the foyer.