ANASTASIA:
Three weeks had passed since the nightmarish incident. That night, we lost not only Miley and Ben but also the Devil, Aurora's brother, and his companion. But David informed us they found only two bodies at the site of the accident.
But I couldn't forget the sight where the flames engulfed him, and I couldn't find peace knowing that the Devil had sacrificed himself for me.
Who was he?
He had pulled me from the clutches of death, but my gratitude was tinged with sorrow for them. I desperately wished I could have saved them.
However, the incident had irrevocably altered my life. It was a chilling revelation that Ben had orchestrated every crime that had plagued our city. What was even more horrifying was the realization that he wasn't acting alone. Even in death, he left behind a lingering fear, a worry that he might have been just one among many demons lurking in the shadows.
And the big boss was watching us. Me.
FLASHBACK:
My body succumbed to the overwhelming darkness, the questions swirling in my mind like a violent storm. Nothing made sense anymore. How had it come to this? How could the sweet boy from my childhood morph into the person I loathed the most?
In that disorienting moment, the only constant was the reassuring presence of the person cradling me in his arms, his deep voice cutting through my confusion. "You gotta stay with me, baby, okay? Just stay with me!"
"Th-they killed Olivia, Aurora, Jackson..." My voice trailed off, the names escaping my lips like a fragile whisper. "Ben. Ben was not alone. The Falcon group. They are... everywhere!" I mumbled, my words disjointed in the haze of my sleep.
"Don't worry, nobody will escape the Devil's justice," he vowed, his voice firm and resolute, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness that threatened to consume me entirely.
I remember the words before I blacked out. The man in the mask tried to help me, despite the fact that he might have been injured. Something in me was constantly desperate to find out what really happened that night.
Did he really die that night?
In these weeks, LarksVille had transformed. The Sandersons had fallen from grace, Russo was in turmoil after Oliver's disappearance, and Mayor Jonathan Edwin had been forced to resign following Mia's involvement in the group. Miley had been clever, equipping herself with a tiny camera that documented every word Ben uttered, broadcast to the world by an anonymous source.
My father's behaviour was certainly odd. He did not utter a single word to me about the incident before he hurried back to the London headquarters with Ava, the Alpha Group's shares plummeting due to Sanderson and Oliver's implication.
And I realized one thing, no matter what, there was nothing above his business in front of him.
David and Lara's eyes were filled with tears when they saw me lying on the hospital bed the morning after that dreadful night. They stayed by my side constantly, their presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone in this ordeal. I shared every detail of the harrowing experience with them, the words spilling out in an urgent rush, desperate to make sense of the chaos that had befallen us.
Lorenzo, too, remained a steadfast companion, never straying far from my side. He seemed utterly composed, hardly speaking a word to me but taking care of me throughout. I couldn't understand exactly what was wrong with him. Or me.
A part of me felt guilty for having feelings for the devil that I was feeling right now, despite knowing I am with Enzo. There was this mysterious allure to both of them that I couldn't shake off. I tried hard, but I couldn't rid my mind of either of them.
However, Mark, his brother, had retreated into quiet solitude for almost two days after the incident. When he finally emerged, his eyes were different—puffy and red, bearing the weight of unspoken sorrow. Something had changed within him, something profound that I couldn't quite fathom.
"So you really couldn't see his face?" Lara asked, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern as we sat in the dimly lit bar on a Saturday night. It was the first time we had ventured out since the night of the incident. However, my dad, fueled by anger and worry, had ensured that the security at our house was doubled, a constant reminder of the lurking dangers.
I let out a heavy sigh, the memories of that night still haunting my thoughts. "It was too dark," I replied, my voice barely audible above the din of the bar. "And his face was covered with a mask."
Lara chuckled, her laughter carrying a hint of disbelief. "Wow, you've got two hot men falling for you," she teased, her tone lightening the heavy atmosphere that surrounded us. "Oh, wait, that would be three if we count David in."
I rolled my eyes at her. She seemed to be confident that the Devil was very much alive and was only waiting for the right time to come out.
Despite our initial plans to have a carefree evening and celebrate LarksVille's liberation from Ben's clutches, the shadows of danger lingered in the corners of our minds. Ben had hinted that he wasn't alone in the Falcon group; there was a big boss orchestrating the entire operation, a looming threat that we knew we needed to confront soon.
The absence of the Devil since that fateful night only added to our unease. My heart was desperate to know, to see if he was alright.
I found a sense of bittersweet solace in knowing that, even in death, Miley had ensured her friends received the justice they deserved. Olivia, Aurora, and Jackson's names had been cleared, their tragic fates recognized by the authorities, backed by evidence of the torture and murder they had endured. It was a small consolation, a flickering light in the darkness that had consumed our lives.
"What can I get for the beautiful ladies tonight?" the bartender's cheerful voice interrupted my thoughts, his friendly smile trying to lift the heavy atmosphere that clung to us.
"Two glasses of beer would be fine," I replied, mustering a faint smile in return. He nodded, turning to fulfil our order, while Lara seized the opportunity to slip away to the bathroom, her absence leaving me alone with my thoughts.
As I sat there lost in my thoughts, the events of that night flashed through my mind like a relentless storm. The memories of Ben, Miley, the gun, the fire, the Devil, and the mysterious masked man overwhelmed me. Each detail is etched into my mind, haunting my thoughts like lingering shadows.
"Don't worry, no one can escape the Devil's justice," the words of the masked man echoed in my ears, a chilling reminder of the enigmatic figure who had saved me that night. But beneath the surface of my gratitude and relief, another memory clawed at the edges of my consciousness.
During the chaos of the fire, amidst the flames that engulfed us, I had seen a flashback of my mother's lifeless body on the floor as I cried for her. The fire wrapped us in its embrace.
What was that about? Where were these memories from? The more I tried to find out, the more it only haunted my dreams, painting my nights with the vivid hues of a nightmare I couldn't escape.
Something was utterly wrong!
This couldn't be. My mother is alive. She must be. My father said she left us, so where did that house with the fire come from? And if I remember more specifically, we weren't alone! There were others with us in that burning mansion, and I had no idea who they were.
Under the dim bar lights, the bartender's voice broke my reverie. "Two beers!" he announced, snapping me back to the present.
"Ah, thanks," I managed a smile, still waiting for Lara. Where the hell is she? Why is it taking so long? Picking up my glass, I spotted something beneath it.
A picture.
As I lifted it, a gasp escaped my lips.
The photograph depicted my mother, a younger version of me in her lap and another woman with her child. They wore genuine smiles, a stark contrast to my confusion. I had no idea who this woman was, or that my mother had a friend beyond the circle.
My curiosity piqued, and I turned it over, finding a note that held the key to this mysterious connection.
"Romano Mansion, 1997."
Romano?
A/N: Ready for part 2?