CHAPTER 73: TWINSTER SECRET ROOM

The cell reeked of blood, rust, and human waste and Silas exhaled slowly and glanced at the table beside him with a casual expression of someone doing his daily job.

The metal tray was crowded with tools that could belong to an operating room or a dentist or the favorite set of a serial killer.

Every instrument was coated in drying blood. He peeled the red-stained gloves from his hands and dropped them onto the mess.

"That all you got? You are softer than I thought," the Giant rasped, coughing up blood and teeth that clattered to the floor.

Victor hung shirtless, arms stretched by heavy chains bolted into the wall. Old bullet scars and knife wounds mapped his chest like a battlefield.

He looked like he had survived hell more than once.

"Do not pretend to be tough, Victor. I know this is tearing you apart," Silas said.

He sat lazily on a metal chair and lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his blood-spattered face.

This was not where he wanted to be. He should have been with Lucien, making sure Adrian did not steal all the fun.

He closed his eyes briefly and muttered under his breath. "They must be fucking right now. I need to end this for today."

"Your father liked punching you, didn’t he?" Silas asked with a crooked smile. "Should I give you nostalgia?"

He pressed the burning end of the cigarette into Victor’s shoulder, right over a fresh wound layered with other identical marks.

Victor’s body jerked, muscles tightening, but he forced a twisted grin. "Roach knows everything, huh."

"I also know your father pimped your mother," Silas continued. His voice turned cold and precise.

"Maybe we should take a trip to that arena in Blackshore. We might find her working there."

Victor’s jaw locked hard. His brows tightened. A thick vein pulsed at his temple, and his breath quickened. Rage rippled through him like a tremor.

The chains rattled violently as he lunged forward. "мудак! Do not talk about my mother! She is dead!"

Silas chuckled softly. "Really? Did you ever see her corpse?"

Victor’s expression drained of color. Silence replaced his fury. Satisfaction curled through Silas like a warm drink.

Edmund’s money had bought good information. Blackshore saw everything; even the pathetic past of a street rat from the North.

"You are lying," Victor shouted. "You are bluffing!"

"Why would I bluff? This have the same weight of the information you are going to give us anyway," Silas replied calmly.

He rubbed his forehead with annoyance. "I wanted to finish this fast. I have a date."

Victor barked a harsh laugh, spitting blood. "With that whore omega? The disgrace of a don who lets alphas—"

The words ended in a sickening crack. Silas’ fist smashed into Victor’s jaw so hard the sound echoed off the concrete.

Victor’s vision flickered to black and back again just in time for the next punch. And the next. And the next. Blood sprayed across Silas’ face and shirt, painting him like a butcher.

Victor’s laughter choked out slowly, slipping into silence as Silas’ breath turned ragged. He stepped away only when his own knuckles ached.

"Do not speak about him with your filthy mouth," he growled.

He grabbed a towel from the tray and wiped the blood from his face, breathing out through his nose. The cigarette smoke had gone stale and heavy.

"Fuck," Silas muttered, clicking his tongue. "I need a shower now."

He tossed the towel aside and walked toward the exit, muttering with irritation.

"Adrian better not be fucking Lucien without me."

The cell door slammed behind him.

***

Lucien had enough. Adrian was too excited, too loud, too clingy, and he was done with the constant hovering.

So he did the most logical thing.

He knocked the alpha unconscious with a sharp hit to the back of his neck, right on the vulnerable point.

Adrian crumpled instantly like a puppet with its strings cut.

They were both half naked on the bed, close enough to sex that Lucien could already taste regret.

Too tired to even speak, he shoved the heavy body off him, grabbed his clothes, and slipped them on.

He locked the door from the outside and pocketed the key.

"Finally. Freedom for one day," he sighed, stretching like a lazy cat before finding the perfect sunny spot by the balcony.

He spread his limbs and basked in the warmth. But the peace lasted all of thirty seconds.

Lucien squinted and muttered under his breath. "Why not return the favor?"

Adrian had stuck to him like glue the whole day, wanting to mate like a rabbit, and show his dominance side.

He deserved a lesson. The corners of his lips curled into a wicked smirk.

Five minutes later, the Serpent was strolling across the property with gloves on, a mask over his face, a scoop in hand, and a plastic bag full of steaming dog shit swinging cheerfully at his side.

He whistled as he walked back to Adrian’s room.

"That damned alpha needs to eat shit once in a while and learn boundaries," he grumbled, unlocking the door with a bobby pin.

The room was painfully spotless, like something out of a luxury magazine. Bare, silent, unlived. No surprise, Adrian rarely slept here anymore, too busy throwing the omega onto every available surface.

Lucien marched toward the bed, ready to dump his gift, when a framed photo on the bedside table caught his eye. He froze.

Two children smiled in the picture. One was a small Adrian and Silas at around seven years old, hugging a blonde haired boy with amethyst eyes.

Lucien.

"What the hell..."

Suddenly their desperate questions made sense. The way Adrian looked at him with nostalgia, the emotional flicker in Silas’ eyes whenever they touched him.

Something buried deep scratched at the back of his skull. Pain shot through his head so sharply he stumbled, crashing against a tall bookshelf.

A hidden switch clicked. The shelf slid aside.

A passage revealed itself.

"Of course. A secret room," Lucien muttered as he took a deep breath.

When the headache finally dissipated, he dropped the bag of shit onto Adrian’s bed inside the thick blanket before stepping inside.

Darkness swallowed him, except for the glow of dozens of surveillance screens lighting the walls. Every part of the island was visible.

"What a lovely way to stalk me," he said, flipping a switch.

Lights flickered on as he was finally able to see everything in the room. But another door waiting at the back was the one that interested him the most.

Lucien pushed it open and walked into the room.

He stopped.

The walls were covered with photographs of him. Every age and every moment. When he was sleeping, eating, training, and even during sex.

Hundreds of images, arranged like a shrine.

Lucien gagged. "Eww. These creeps. I should have punished them more."

The obsession was suffocating. It almost made his skin crawl. Why? What happened between them in the past?

Why would Silas keep that a secret and refuse to tell him?

Suddenly, a hand slid around his waist from behind making him freeze. He could feel warm breath brushing his ear.

"You are a naughty little Serpent," a voice murmured. "Spying on us like this. Aren’t you ashamed? Or are you finally interested in us?"

Lucien’s body jolted. He hadn’t heard footsteps. Not a single sound. But he knew that voice.

Silas.

Lucien turned slightly and saw him standing there, blood smeared across his face and shirt, his hazel eyes dark and hungry.

And he smiled.