Aria's POV
I'm staring at the note—You're next—when Isabella's voice cuts through my panic.
Aria, dear. Come with me.
I spin around. She stands in the doorway, perfectly composed, like she didn't just witness chaos erupt in her family home.
I need to show you something, she continues. About the curse. About what happens to people who ignore warnings.
Every instinct screams not to follow her. But I need answers. Need to understand what I'm dealing with.
I pocket the note and follow Isabella through winding hallways to a library I didn't know existed. Floor-to-ceiling shelves stuffed with old books. A massive fireplace. Windows overlooking the dark woods.
And in the center—a glass case containing ancient journals.
The family archives, Isabella says, unlocking the case with a key from around her neck. We keep our true history here. Away from the world. Away from people who wouldn't understand.
She pulls out a leather journal, pages yellowed with age. The date on the cover makes my stomach drop: 1944.
This, Isabella says, placing it on a reading table, is Katerina Castellano's personal diary. Written in the months before she created the Blood Oath. Before she murdered her own son.
I don't want to read about murders
You need to. Isabella opens the journal to a marked page. Because if you don't understand what you're dealing with, you'll end up like all the others. Dead.
The words are written in elegant script, the ink faded but still readable:
Alessandro betrayed me today. My beloved son, my pride, my heir—he's in love with HER. Sofia. That creature my new husband brought into our home with his baggage and his lies. I gave Alessandro everything. Raised him to rule this family. And he throws it away for a girl who shares nothing of our blood.
My hands shake as I turn the page.
I confronted them. Found them in the garden, holding hands like common lovers. When I demanded Alessandro end it, he refused. Said he LOVES her. Loves that worthless girl more than his own mother. More than his family legacy. I won't allow this. I WON'T.
Keep reading, Isabella says quietly.
The entries get darker. More unhinged. Katerina's grief and rage spiraling into madness.
Then, the final entry:
It's done. Alessandro and Sofia are dead. I found them in his room, planning to run away together. I couldn't let them destroy everything I built. So I took the knife from Alessandro's desk and I—
The entry ends abruptly. Blood stains the page.
She killed them, I whisper. Her own son.
Then she performed a ritual. Isabella pulls out another journal—this one filled with symbols and strange words. She used their blood. Carved these marks into the chapel floor. Bound her spirit to the family bloodline to prevent any future violations.
The symbols match the one on my note. The spider web with thirteen lines.
Katerina's mark.
After she finished the ritual, Isabella continues, she slit her own throat in the Blood Chapel. Died on the altar where family oaths are sworn. And her last words were: 'No one will betray this family again. I'll make sure of it.'
Horror crawls up my throat. That's insane.
That's grief. Isabella's voice is almost sympathetic. She lost her son to love she couldn't accept. It destroyed her mind. But her rage was powerful enough to create something real. Something that's killed six more couples since then.
She pulls out more records. Crime scene photos. Autopsy reports. Each couple who violated the oath:
Giuseppe and Francesca, 1967 - Found drained of blood in the chapel. No wounds. No explanation.
Antonio and Marie, 1983 - Throats slit in a locked bedroom. Guards outside heard nothing.
David and Christina, 2001 - Discovered in the library, dead for hours. Room was sealed from inside.
Every death is impossible, Isabella says. Locked rooms. No weapons. No way in or out. But all the victims reported the same thing before they died.
What?
They saw her. Katerina's ghost. In mirrors. In shadows. Watching them. Isabella's eyes lock on mine. And they all found black roses before the end. Warnings they ignored.
Like the rose on my pillow. Like the thirteen throughout the house.
Why are you telling me this? My voice cracks.
Because I've seen how Dante looks at you. Isabella closes the journals carefully. And I know what that look means. He's obsessed. Possessive. And if he acts on those feelings, you'll both die.
We haven't done anything!
Yet. Isabella's smile is cold. But Katerina doesn't wait for violations to be consummated. She kills based on intent. On feelings. On the potential for betrayal.
She moves to the window, staring out at the woods. David and Christina were engaged. Planning to leave the family together. They hadn't even kissed yet when Katerina came for them. Found them in this very library, throats cut, holding hands in death.
Tears burn my eyes. I didn't ask for any of this.
None of them did. Isabella turns back. But here's what you need to understand, Aria. The curse doesn't care about fairness. It only cares about protecting this family. And right now, someone believes you and Dante are a threat.
Who? Who's leaving the roses?
I don't know. But something flickers in her eyes. A lie. But whoever it is has Katerina's attention now. And once the matriarch is watching, death isn't far behind.
She leaves me alone in the library with journals full of murders and a curse I don't believe in.
Except... I do believe it.
Because how else do you explain locked room murders? Impossible deaths? Couples found with no wounds but drained of blood?
I pull out my phone. No signal, like always. But I screenshot the pages anyway. Evidence. Proof that this family is insane.
Then I google Katerina Castellano. Castellano murders. Blood Oath curse.
Nothing.
Not a single result. Like the entire family history has been erased from the internet.
I try different searches. Different names. Different years.
Still nothing.
These people have money and power enough to bury their past completely.
I'm still searching when footsteps echo in the hallway. Mom appears in the doorway, her face pale.
Aria. We need to talk.
About what? About how you married into a family of murderers? About the curse you didn't bother mentioning?
Mom flinches. I didn't think it was real.
You KNEW about it? Rage floods through me. You knew there was a curse and you still brought me here?
Vincent told me it was superstition! Mom's voice breaks. An old family legend they use to maintain control. I thought it was just... tradition. Not real.
People are DEAD, Mom! Multiple people! Because of this curse!
I know. Tears stream down her face. I know, and I'm sorry. I was desperate. We were going to be homeless, and Vincent offered security, and I thought—
You thought wrong. I stand, gathering my phone. We're leaving. Tonight. Before someone decides I'm the next victim.
We can't. Mom grabs my arm. Vincent has guards at every exit. We're on lockdown until they find who left the roses.
Then we'll sneak out. Climb the fence. Something!
Aria, please
A scream cuts through the mansion.
High-pitched. Terrified. Coming from upstairs.
Mom and I race toward the sound, along with guards and family members emerging from everywhere.
We all converge on the third floor hallway.
A maid stands frozen outside a guest room, pointing inside with a shaking hand.
Dante pushes through the crowd first. He stops in the doorway, his entire body going rigid.
Nobody comes in, he orders. Tommy, get my father. Now.
I push forward, needing to see what caused the scream.
Dante tries to block me. Aria, don't
But I'm already looking past him into the room.
And I wish I hadn't.
The room is destroyed. Furniture overturned. Curtains shredded. And written across the walls in what looks like blood:
THE MATRIARCH SEES ALL
THIRTEEN DAYS
BLOOD WILL PAY BLOOD
But it's what's in the center of the room that makes my knees buckle.
A mannequin dressed in old-fashioned clothes from the 1940s. Dark hair. Pale face painted to look like a corpse.
And around its neck—a noose made from black roses.
The mannequin's face has been carved to look like it's screaming.
And pinned to its chest is a photograph.
Of me and Dante.
Taken this morning in the study when we were alone together.
When he told me I was his.
Thirteen days, Isabella's voice comes from behind me. That's how long the curse gives you. Thirteen days from the first warning to the first death.
I count backward. The rose on my pillow was three days ago.
Which means we have ten days left.
Ten days before Katerina's curse claims its next victims.
And someone in this house is making sure it happens.