Chapter 8
Mexico heat wrapped around me like a second skin. Dry, relentless, and strangely comforting
It was the kind of place you either healed in–or disappeared forever!
I was somewhere in between 8
The compound Salvatore brought me to was tucked high in the Sierra Madre, surrounded by hills and silence. A place the world didn’t know existed. Not even satellites could trace this ghost of a fortress. It was a sanctuary carved by devils for angels on the run.!!
And I was no angel.
I looked at my triplets. Lucian. Elara. Caelum.
My legacy.
“I’ve made it this far,”
I whispered to myself. “He didn’t win.”
The door creaked behind me. I didn’t have to turn.
“Still talking to ghosts?” Salvatore’s voice was low, teasing–but there was always that edge. The edge that made men fear him. The edge that built empires in the dark. Mr. X, they called him. A phantom in the underworld. No one had ever seen his face and lived to tell the
story.
But I had. And somehow, I was still breathing.!
Not ghosts,” I said, turning to him. “Reminders.”
He stepped closer, a glass of iced chamomile in his hand. “You need rest, Danica.”
I took the glass. “Rest?”
Salvatore smirked, watching me with those dark eyes that knew too much. “You’re getting colder,” he murmured. “Sharper.”
“I had to,” I said, sipping the tea. “You don’t survive someone like Reagan by staying warm.”
He laughed, bitter and soft. “You know what the old me would’ve done after what he pulled? Bombed the whole damn city. Took heads for breakfast. Fed Dulcie to wolves just for breathing near him.”
“Tempting,” I said. “But I don’t want blood”
I met his gaze, my voice hardening.
“I want control.”
He smiled at that. A real one. There she is. Danica fucking De Santis. Back from the dead.”
“No.” I set the tea down. “Danica died in that basement. She bled into that mattress. She lost her name the moment he locked her underground like a thing to be disposed of.”
“Then who the hell are you now?“}}
I turned to the mirror on the far wall. A woman stared back at me. Wom. Strong. Hungry.
“Elysia Voss.”
Salvatore raised a brow. “Sounds expensive.”
“She is. And she just became the primary investor in Dulcie’s Paris launch Quietly. Through shell accounts. No trail, no trace.
He whistled, “The bitch won’t know you’re holding her leash.”
“She’ll smile for me,” I said. “Call me bestie. Kiss my cheek. Parade her designs like she’s Queen. And then she’ll fall.””B
Salvatore walked to the window, looking out at the setting sun. “You really gonna play this slow game?”
“I’m not playing, Sel,” I said, standing to full height. “I’m rewriting the whole fucking board.“}
He chuckled again, running a hand through his hair. “God, I missed this version of you. The woman who looked at fire and lit her own
match.
I walked over to the bassinets where my babies slept.
Lucian. Strong and quiet. Always watching with those deep, knowing eyes.
Elara. Loud. Dramatic, Fierce already.”
And Caelum. Calm. Peaceful. My little sky.
I kissed each of their foreheads. They deserve better than ashes.”
“You’ll give it to them,” Salvatore said behind me. “But know this… Reagan’s not stupid. He’s dangerous, pissed off, and bleeding legacy. He’ll come for you“!!
I smiled without warmth. “Good. Let him. Let the king hunt the ghost of his queen.”
Salvatore stepped behind me, voice lower now. “You want me to take him out?“}
“No,” I said. “You always fight my battles, Sal. Not this time. He took everything from me. My pride. My father. My name. He doesn’t get to die easy”
He nodded slowly “And what about me?”
I turned to him “You saved me. You didn’t ask for anything. You stayed when I didn’t choose you. I was a fool to let you go.”
was never gone,” he said “Just waiting ”
I reached for his hand. “Wait a little longer. The storm’s just starting.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “When this is done-
“When it’s done.” I cut him off, “we’ll talk about what we could’ve been. Right now, I need to become everything they never saw coming.”
Salvatore kissed the back of my hand. Then be her. Be Elysia fucking Voss. Make the world bow”
Later that night, I sat alone by the balcony, my laptop open, I watched the slow unveiling of Dulcie’s Paris pre–launch. Her voice giddy. Her eyes plastic. She gushed about “a mysterious, brilliant investor who believed in her vision”
Me.
I sent her a voice message through the alias channel,
“Bonjour, Dulcie. You’re doing so well. I always knew you were almost meant for the spotlight. Just don’t trip on your heels, darling.”
Her reply came seconds later. “Elysia! You’re watching? I’m dying. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my brand. I can’t wait to meet you in person.”
I smiled, teeth bared
“Oh, you will. And when you do.””
I didn’t finish that thought. I didn’t have to
The day was coming
They thought I burned..
But I survived. Not as Danica. As vengeance. Wrapped in silk. A storm cloaked in lace.”
The queen? She’s back. And this time, she’s the one pulling every string. Every step, every smile, every cruel thread of karma-
I’ll weave it into their end.
