CHAPTER 94: [94] RING. RING. RING

Pierre let the implications of that statement hang in the air. Valerio seemed to realize he’d said too much, but pride prevented him from retreating. He launched into an impassioned defense of his methods, explaining the necessity of control, the beauty of his vision, the ingratitude of those who couldn’t appreciate his work.

As Valerio spoke, growing more animated with each word, Pierre glanced toward the west corridor. A commotion had erupted near the storage rooms – shouting about spilled wine, workers rushing to clean up the mess. Leo had done his part. And Raven – Raven was nowhere to be seen.

Good. Phase one complete.

Pierre returned his attention to Valerio, who had progressed to comparing himself to a sculptor, Porto Veloce his masterpiece, its inhabitants merely marble waiting to be shaped by his genius.

"Every chisel strike serves the greater work," Valerio proclaimed, gesturing expansively. "The marble doesn’t understand the sculptor’s vision, yet without his intervention, it remains nothing but formless stone."

"And if the marble prefers to remain stone?" Pierre asked quietly. "If it has its own purpose beyond becoming your sculpture?"

"Then it is wasted potential," Valerio replied dismissively. "A tragedy of ignorance."

"Whose ignorance?" Pierre’s voice carried across the now-silent plaza. "The stone’s, for not recognizing your genius? Or yours, for not recognizing the stone’s right to exist as itself?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered. Valerio opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Marco, who could no longer be waved away. The assistant whispered urgently in his master’s ear, and Valerio’s face transformed from philosophical passion to sharp alarm.

"Excuse me," he said abruptly, his voice tight. "A matter requires my attention."

Pierre bowed slightly. "Of course. We can continue our discussion later."

As Valerio strode away, followed by Marco and several guards, Pierre caught Alyssa’s eye across the plaza. She gave him a small smile – Raven must have succeeded. The ledger was theirs.

The crowd remained in the plaza, but the festival’s carefully orchestrated harmony had shattered. People gathered in small groups, speaking in low, urgent tones. The seeds of doubt had been planted.

"That was quite a performance," Alyssa said, appearing at his side. Her green eyes glittered with appreciation. "You had him so caught up in defending his ego that he didn’t notice the real threat."

"Tyrants always have the same weakness," Pierre replied, keeping his voice low. "They can’t bear to be questioned, especially publicly. Their power depends on the illusion of infallibility."

"Well, you certainly shattered that illusion." Alyssa glanced around at the murmuring crowd. "Look at them – they’re questioning everything now."

"Questions are dangerous things in a place built on blind obedience." Pierre scanned the plaza, noting the increased movement of guards along the perimeter. "Did Raven make it back?"

Alyssa’s smile faded. "Not yet. She should have been here by now."

Pierre felt a cold knot form in his stomach. "Something’s wrong."

"Valerio looked more than annoyed when Marco spoke to him," Alyssa observed. "He looked afraid."

"We need to find Raven," Pierre said, already moving toward the edge of the plaza. "Now."

Alyssa caught his arm. "Wait. If Valerio’s men have her, rushing in will only make things worse. We need to be smart about this."

Pierre paused, Hardy’s darkness surging inside him at the thought of Raven in danger. His vision tinted red around the edges.

Drain them all. Take their strength. Save her.

"Pierre," Alyssa said urgently, her fingers tightening on his arm.

Pierre took a deep breath, forcing the darkness back. "I’m fine."

"You’re not," she countered. "But you need to stay in control. For Raven’s sake."

She was right. Losing himself to Hardy’s darkness wouldn’t help Raven. It would only give Valerio exactly what he wanted – Pierre’s power, unrestrained and ripe for study. For "perfecting." Like a prized specimen under glass, dissected and analyzed until there was nothing left but raw potential to be weaponized.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, his voice rough with suppressed emotion, each word grinding against his teeth like broken glass.

Alyssa’s eyes darted around the plaza, calculating with a precision that betrayed her naval upbringing. She took inventory of everything – the positions of guards shifting nervously at their posts, the uneasy flow of the crowd moving in uncertain patterns, the stone-faced architecture of Valerio’s compound with its hidden entrances and servant passages.

"We need to find out where they’d take her," she whispered, leaning closer. "Somewhere secure, but accessible to Valerio himself. Somewhere private where he could question her without anyone overhearing her screams."

The thought made Pierre’s stomach twist into knots. "His workshop," he realized, the memory flashing vivid and cold in his mind. "That room I glimpsed earlier with all the medical equipment. The one with the restraints on the tables. He called it his ’restoration area.’"

Alyssa nodded slowly, her pale green eyes hardening. "Makes sense. A scientist needs his laboratory. But how do we get there without being spotted? Every guard in this place is looking for the red-haired troublemaker now."

Pierre’s gaze fell on a group of servants moving efficiently through the crowd, carrying trays stacked with empty glasses toward the kitchens, practically invisible to the self-important guests. "The same way Raven would," he said, a grim smile forming. "We hide in plain sight. The powerful never truly see those who serve them."

"We should split up," Alyssa suggested, already adjusting her posture to something more demure, less commanding. "I’ll create another distraction. Something subtle but eye-catching. You find her."

Before Pierre could respond, a bell began to toll from the harbor – three sharp, urgent rings that cut through the ambient noise, followed by a heavy silence that seemed to swallow all other sound, then three more clanging alarms. The crowd’s murmuring transformed instantly from idle gossip to genuine concern, faces turning toward the sound.

"What’s that?" Pierre asked.

Alyssa’s face paled. "Harbor lockdown. No ships in or out. Valerio’s closing the trap."

The darkness inside Pierre roared.

We warned you. Now there’s no choice. Take their strength. Make them pay.