Hell
Chapter 822
I was alone, restrained, and completely outnumbered. All I could do was watch as they tore into the mound of dirt I’d buried. It didn’t take long for them to uncover the sealed pit holding the urn.
These guys weren’t fazed at all—after all, they already knew Hayden was alive. To them, the urn was just a container, nothing more.
“Mr. Drago, we’ve got it,” one of them said, holding the urn up to Cole like it was some kind of trophy.
Cole didn’t grab it right away. Instead, he gave me this smug look. “Keira, when you got this thing, did it never cross your mind to, I don’t know, open it?”
“Not everyone’s a twisted creep like you,” I shot back.
He rolled a blade of grass between his teeth, grinning. “It’s called curiosity. Seeing is believing, you know.”
“Well, when your dad kicks the bucket, make sure you give it a good look,” I said, letting the sarcasm drip. “Not that you’ll get the chance.”
“Touché,” he said with a smirk. “But let’s not get sidetracked. Since you’ve never looked inside, why don’t you do the honors now? Let’s open it.”
This wasn’t just him messing around. He was dead serious, cautious even. He clearly thought the urn could be hiding some kind of trap or secret mechanism.
What did he think this was? Tomb Raider, with booby traps and hidden switches?
“Wow, Cole. Such a coward. Just admit it already,” I said, my temper flaring.
“Oh, I’m shaking,” he mocked, drawing out the words. “How about you protect me? Just a little?”
Looking at his smug face, I felt pure disgust. Seriously, was there any limit to how shameless he could be?
I thought back to when I first met him. Sure, he’d been arrogant and reckless, but at least he’d seemed human back then. Now? He was just trash—a walking reminder of someone who’d thrown their humanity in the gutter.
“Cole, if your mom saw what you’ve become, she’d never be able to rest in peace,” I said, my voice sharp.
His grin vanished. In a flash, his hand shot out, grabbing my chin in a vice-like grip. “If it weren’t for you, my mom wouldn’t have died in that cursed monastery,” he hissed, his voice like venom. “I haven’t even begun to settle that score, and you think you can throw her name around?”
So, he’d pieced it together. I couldn’t deny it; Mrs. Drago’s death was tied to me. If she hadn’t helped me, pushed herself into that dangerous situation, maybe she would’ve survived.
The fire replayed in my mind—Abbot Levinsky didn’t make it either, and others were hurt. Guilt gnawed at my chest.
“Do you even know why that fire started, Cole?” I said, narrowing my eyes. “It wasn’t random—it was your fault. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“It wasn’t me!” he barked, his grip tightening until I thought my jaw might crack. “I’d never light a fire that could kill my own mother!”
I was pushing his buttons on purpose. Honestly, I’d suspected the truth ever since his meltdown at the hospital, tearing the place apart looking for his mom. But I kept going anyway.
“You wanted me dead. Setting that fire was the fastest way to kill me and get the item Hayden left me. Then, once I was out of the way, you could deal with him and live your perfect little criminal life.”
I paused, letting my words sink in. “But you didn’t count on your mom being there, did you?”
“I told you—it wasn’t me!” Cole roared, his voice shaking with rage. His grip on my jaw tightened like he was ready to break it.
“Sir, maybe we should just open the urn,” one of his men interrupted awkwardly, clearly trying to defuse the tension.
Cole froze for a moment, then yanked me forward, practically dragging me to the urn. “Open it. Now.”
I knew it didn’t matter if I opened it or not. Fighting back would only make things worse. My hands trembled slightly as I flipped the latch. With a soft click, the lid popped open.
Inside was a string of tiny LED lights that flickered to life, casting a glow like a holiday display. Underneath was a bed of white feathers, soft and delicate, cradling a small red jewelry box in the center.
“Damn,” Cole blurted. “That’s some serious flair.”
Chapter 823