Amara’S POV

I stood in my room, retrying Liam’s contact, but he wasn’t picking up.

“Where could he be?” I muttered, my chest tightening. He was the first person I’d ever liked but under the wrong circumstances. If Father ever found out about us, I feared what would happen.

A heavy bang rattled my door.

“Yes?” I snapped, my voice cold, eyes blazing.

“Don wants you in the red room.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be there soon.”

My gaze dropped to my body blood still smeared across my skin, faint traces clinging to my hands. I didn’t bother to shower. What did it matter?

My father—Marco Belladona was unquestionable. If I arrived a minute late, he’d probably stab me without hesitation. There was no love between us. He was the Don, and I was his weapon. Trained from childhood, molded into an assassin to do his dirty work.

I made my way down the winding staircase, the dim light bulbs flickering above me. The walls seemed to close in with every step, carrying the echoes of screams that had long since been silenced. The metallic tang of blood clung to the air, sharp enough to taste.

My boots clicked against the cement floor, slow and reluctant, though I forced myself forward. The door to the basement loomed like a mouth ready to swallow me whole.

The red room.

The place of endings.

“Arghhhhhh!” A scream tore through the air, raw and guttural. I froze, my hand tightening against the railing. My heart kicked in my chest, refusing to believe what my instincts already knew. No. It couldn’t be. I had made sure Father would never find out…

My breath came uneven as I forced myself forward.

“Liam,” I whispered when I saw him.

He was chained to a chair, blood dripping down his battered face. His body sagged as though the weight of his pain was too much to bear.

My chest tightened, rage clawing at me until my vision blurred. My eyes burned, turning red.

“You think I wouldn’t know?” Father’s voice boomed from behind me, heavy and merciless. His footsteps echoed, slow, deliberate, like a predator savoring the kill.

“I gave you just one rule, piccola… and you dared to break it.” His words dripped with venom.

I dropped to my knees instantly, desperation pouring from me. “I’ll stop seeing him, Father please, just release him!”

He laughed, the sound hollow, cruel, echoing through the chamber like the toll of a funeral bell. “Falling in love is a sin, princess… and he’s your punishment.”

My jaw clenched as I rose, my body trembling with restrained fury. He was never going to release Liam. He was going to make me watch, to carve the lesson into my soul. That was how wicked, how utterly ruthless Marco Belladona truly was.

I nodded like a lifeless doll and walked closer to Liam. He was almost unrecognizable, bloodied and broken, but when his eyes found mine, tears spilled down his face. My hand clenched tightly at my side.

“Amara… your father is insane,” Liam whispered, his voice ragged.

I smiled sadly and gave a small nod. “I’m sorry, Liam. I couldn’t protect you.”

He shook his head weakly. “At least I was able to protect you… I love you, Amara. And I don’t regret it. I only pray your father dies in the most gruesome way imaginable.”

A single tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it. I wiped it away quickly and stepped back, trying to steady myself.

“I love you, Liam,” I breathed.

The gunshot shattered the air.

I froze as blood splattered across my skin, hot and sticky. My ears rang, drowning out everything else, leaving only the deafening silence that followed.

Liam’s body went limp, his head slumping forward as the light drained from his eyes. Dead. Gone.

For a moment, my body refused to move. My fingers twitched uselessly at my sides, aching to reach him, to hold him, but my knees locked in place. When I finally staggered forward, the metallic stench of blood overwhelmed me. I wanted to scream, but the sound died in my throat.

Slowly, I turned. My father stood there, a smirk carved across his cruel face, gun still smoking in his hand.

He shouldn’t have known. He wasn’t supposed to find out. I had made sure of it…

My gaze snapped to Ross. He refused to meet my eyes. Betrayal burned in my chest like fire.

“That bastard,” I whispered.

“Meet me in my office in an hour,” Father commanded. Then, with a dismissive flick of his wrist, he looked at Ross. “Throw his body to Tulip.”

Tulip. The beast in our basement. A dog that fed on human flesh.

“No.” My voice cracked as I stepped forward, blocking his path. “I want his body.”

Father’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you just say?”

“I want his body,” I repeated, firmer this time. “You’ve killed him already. At least… at least let me keep him, Father.”

The world spun as his hand shot out, clamping around my throat. His grip was iron, crushing, stealing the breath from my lungs. My nails dug into his wrist, but he didn’t flinch. With effortless strength, he lifted me off my feet and slammed me into the wall. My back hit with a sickening thump, pain exploding down my spine.

“Arghhh….” I groaned, the air ripping from my chest. Black spots burst across my vision.

“You are my daughter,” Father growled, his face inches from mine, his breath sharp with smoke and whiskey. “But that does not give you the right to defy me. Do you understand?”

My lungs screamed for air. My vision tunneled, but the fury inside me roared louder than the pain. For one insane second, I thought about drawing the blade hidden at my thigh, plunging it into his neck. Ending him here. Ending it all.

But fear won. Fear always won with him.

I choked back the sob rising in my chest and nodded desperately. “Y-yes, Father.”