LIACH POV
The SUV glides to a stop in front of the manor. The engine cuts off, allowing the night swallows everything again. The clock has ticked past 4 a.m, yet the entire estate lies in an eerie stillness—as if even the walls know better than to stir at this hour.
Dave steps out first, rushing around to the other side. He opens the door and helps me out gently, his arm steadying my staggering frame. My broken arm is bound in cloth, hanging limp at my side. Each movement sends spikes of pain through my body, but I don't wince. Not in front of them.
"You need to see the medic, Liach," Dave says in a low voice. "At least let me—"
"No." I shake my head. "My father's waiting for me now. I have to give him the report."
"It's late. He'll see you in the morning."
"He is waiting." I glance at him, holding his gaze and that's all it takes. He knows too well to believe what he just said.
Dave tries to press further, but he says nothing, worry clouding his face.
"Okay, at least let me assist you to his office," he tries again.
"No," I say, shifting my gaze towards the corridor. "I'll be fine."
"When are you going to start moving? The boss won't wait forever." Antonio says, stepping in behind us with a smirk on his face. As if saying your failure was expected, go and disgrace yourself before the boss.
I say nothing, staggering forward, boots tapping against the stone floor. The corridor stretches like a frozen artery, shadows draped over the walls, and the dim lights above flicker as if even they're afraid to stay.
I stumble but force myself upright, my steps echoing against the floors, each one heavier than the last. Dave and Antonio follow behind at a careful distance.
We stopped in the long hallway before Papa's office. The light under his door glows faintly. The air feels so thick that even my lungs refuse to draw in oxygen.
I place my hand on the door, and knock once.
"Come in." The voice cuts through the silence—it is low, distant, and cold. It isn't loud. But it roars through my bones like thunder in a deep cave. My breath catches; sweat gathers at my temples as I push the door open.
With the creaking of the door, we step inside. Dave and Antonio bow their heads, rendering their salutations.
Gabriel sits behind his desk, motionless, cloaked in shadows, only his eyes visible as they lock onto me like a hawk sizing up a broken-winged prey.
Then he speaks four words. Not to me—but to Dave. To Antonio. As if I'm not standing here bleeding in front of him.
"What are the reports," he says, his voice devoid of emotion as it always is.
They say nothing, glancing at my direction, at me, informing papa that I have the information. Dave's eyes flicker to mine, as he continues to tightening his jaw.
"You both can leave," Papa says, dismissing them.
Suddenly, Dave steps forward. "Don… I beg for your utmost mercy, to grant Liach treatment now. She's lost too much blood— and her arm—"
Gabriel's glare cuts him off the moment those words leave his mouth.
"Antonio, remove him."
"Yes, Don."
Antonio grabs Dave's shoulder, pulling him back.
"Let go! Boss, please—"
Gabriel's gaze turns to him— sharp and filled with fury. "You still have your head attached to your body because I allow it, so don't go too far with these privileges."
"Antonio."
"Right away, Don."
Antonio does not hesitate. With a nod, he grabs Dave's shoulder. Dave doesn't fight. His eyes meet mine one last time —pleading—but he lets himself be led out.
I know Dave is trying to help. But he is making everything worse. Papa will see this as a weakness on my part.
The door shuts behind Dave and Antonio, and the silence wraps around me like a noose.
I fight to stand straight, though my knees are shaking and the weight of my broken arm drags on my spine. My skin is slick with sweat. The blood soaking through the cloth has gone cold, sticking to my ribs.
Papa says nothing at first. Only sits there with that glacial calm, eyes rooted to my face like he's waiting for something to crack. No flicker of concern, no interest in the blood drying on my skin.
His silence is a blade, and I feel it sawing through every second.
But I brace myself for whatever it is he's going to throw at me.
Finally, he speaks. "Did you kill him, Liach?"
I don't answer.
Because I know if I open my mouth too fast, my voice will shake. And if it shakes, he'll see weakness. He'll get even more angry. And weakness, he doesn't tolerate. I don't intend to die here.
"Answer the question, Liach."
"N..no, sir," I say. My voice is slightly shaking, even as I try hard to steady it.
Then he stands. My lungs shrink, my broken arm pulses with heat as he begins to circle me slowly, like a predator studying a lame animal.
His voice comes quiet and slow, like how you have a blade drawn slowly.
"Then why are you back looking like a rag? Like a failure draped in flesh," he says, even with his voice calm and his face unreadable. His voice echoes anger and disappointment.
I clench my jaw against those words that strike sharper than blades. Not responding. Not because I can't, but because I don't know how to say I failed.
"Why are you back looking like a piece of shit? You look like garbage rotting in a uniform. Did you think bleeding back here would earn you pity?"
I flinch, my lips twitching as I almost let out a sound. Cold air runs through my spine—like a snake wrapping its way up my legs.
But instead, I stare straight ahead, past the shadows on the wall, past the ache in my side.
No. I know it won't earn pity. I knew that before I stepped out of the SUV.
But I had to come back. For Elias, where my safe haven lies.
"You failed. And worse than failure, you returned. Like a beaten dog crawling home. I should've had Antonio put a bullet in your skull at the gates."
Even as my stomach keeps knotting, with each word landing like a blow. I keep my mouth shut, and keep standing.
"You were not sent to return," he says. "You were sent to end him. I trained you for precision. Strength. Control. You come back to me limping like some gutter rat with your arm tied in a torn cloth. Were you crying too?"
My eyes staring straight ahead, not daring to glance at papa.
"You have one purpose. Kill who I point to. That's it. And yet you couldn't even finish a boy with no training?"
"He was strong, Papa—" The words slip out, alongside blood as a hard and heavy slap lands across my face. His body is inches from mine, as he adjusts his cuff, then glances at me.
"Excuses now? Pathetic." He leans close, enough that I can feel the frost in his tone. "Was it an ambush? If not, that would mean you were outsmarted. Are you telling me, a coward and a few rumors outplayed my blood?" He scoffs.
I say nothing.
"I see no value in your wounds, Liach. You wear them like a trophy, yet you come back empty."
He smiles, his lips carving up in a thin line filled with cruelty.
"You are not a soldier, Liach. You're a mistake. I should've buried you in the snow the day you were born."
As the heat in my throat increases, my knees wobbles. But I remain upright. I can't be weak; there is too much at risk. So pull your shit together.
"What did you observe about De Luna, for the past weeks you were watching him?"
I swallow. My voice threatens to break, but I force it to remain steady. "He appears weak, sir. But it feels deliberate."
He narrows his eyes, watching me. So I continue.
"It's a facade, sir. He's hiding something. He... seemed weak but it's deliberate." I say, voice hoarse.
"Hmm. So even you, in all your failure, sense something beneath the coward's skin." Gabriel leans back, nodding slowly. "So the rumors were wrong. I'll consider that... if it turns out to be true."
He walks back to his desk. His back turned to me as he spoke.
"Go. Get stitched up. Your punishment begins after. And your assignment is not over. Sinveer must die."
"Yes, sir."
"And Liach—"
"One more thing," he adds. "Make sure that vermin Elias stops snooping around. Or he might meet his end sooner than expected."
No. It can't be.
A cold sweat as ice breaks over me. My lips move on their own. "Yes, sir."
"Get out."
"Yes, sir."
As I turn to take my leave, with my legs barely holding me up. I could still feel papa's eyes, staring at me. As they remained cold and all-consuming.