Chapter 3 - The Grave That Was Never FullDead.
The word echoed in my mind like a gunshot.
Twelve years ago, the wreckage of our family sedan had been found at the bottom of Lake Michigan, warped by heat and pulverized by pressure. Among the twisted metal and ash, dental records and a charred silver locket confirmed the unthinkable: my entire family had been wiped out by our rivals, the Rossi family.
Or so I had been told.
So I had sworn vengeance for.
I had hunted down every last Rossi soldier, dismantled their operations brick by brick, and turned their leadership into fertilizer. I had worn mourning black for a decade, ruling my underworld empire with a heart as cold and dead as the ashes of my childhood home.
And now, looking through the cracked basement door, my sister—pale, sickly, but undeniably alive—was chewing on a piece of stolen prime rib.
“Mom, my chest hurts,” Elena whimpered, clutching her nightgown. Her skin was translucent, stretched tight over a skeletal frame.
“I know, baby, I know,” Beatrice cried, pressing a damp cloth to Elena's burning forehead. “Just hold on a little longer. I’m saving every dollar. Once I have enough, we can buy false papers, cross the border into Canada, and leave Victor’s war behind forever.”
Leave Victor's war behind.
The sentence sliced through me sharper than any blade. Beatrice didn't just think I was a monster; she believed I was the architect of the very nightmare that had trapped them in this frozen hellhole.
I pushed the door open. It shrieked on its hinges.
Beatrice spun around, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. She threw herself physically over Elena’s bed, shielding the girl with her frail body, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.
“Please!” Beatrice screamed, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. “Take me! Kill me! Leave her alone! She has nothing to do with this!”
I stepped into the light.
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My face was a mask of cold stone, but inside, my soul was a raging wildfire.
“Beatrice,” I said, my voice dangerously low, vibrating with a lethal intensity that made the basement shadows seem to shrink away. “Care to explain why my dead sister is sleeping under your blankets?”
