“A woman like you is a pest. Surprisingly unintelligible and worthless. A breed of inferior scum.”

“Stop, you’re scaring me. What is so suddenly? Why are you so angry? Hey, Luciano…”

Luciano kicked off the clinging Flavia. His blade pointed on her flawless cheek, and he pressed, drawing a line—a little red scratch.

“Ahhh, it hurts! What are you doing to my beautiful face?”

“F*cking pig, give me the antidote. I know you poisoned Alana. If you want to live, give it to me now!”

Flavia, holding her grazed cheek, straightened. Slowly, she rose.

“What, Alana, Alana! Her name rolls off your tongue incessantly; it’s my name you should be calling.”

“Rotten mouth. The f*ck am I calling! I’m telling you to give me the antidote!”

“I hope that woman dies! The cruelty of Armenia!”

Once again, Luciano’s long legs kicked Flavia, sending her sprawling to the floor.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Then…hold me! Make a vow of eternity with me! Marry me. And I’ll give you the antidote if you pour me your seed. I want to have a baby with you. If you don’t make it happen, I’ll never give it to you! I’ll throw away the antidote!”

He looked down with frosty eyes as Flavia shook her body and cried out.

“Why don’t you respond to me? I’m your fiancée, you know. Ever since I was a little girl, you have been my only love. I’ve dreamt of you; I’ve dreamt of being queen. Since the fall of Serrat, men I’ve despised here have embraced me, and I’ve accepted, all so I could help you. Even now, I am embraced every day by my husband and Amancio. And yet I endure all this because I know that I will be with you one day. I’ve taken it. All for you and Serrat!”

“You dare? Where were you when Serrat died? I know you opened your legs to ab Armenian aristocrat and escaped in his carriage as his mistress. You abandoned your family; you abandoned Serrat. Don’t f*cking speak about Serrat without impunity. You’re a shame. A worthless piece of sh*t with no value.”

Luciano grabbed her rich red hair, and Flavia screeched. Luciano knelt, then wrenched her up.

“I’m a villain, Flavia,” he breathed. “Villains take what they can by means they see fit. Let’s see how long you can hold out. Don’t expect me to be lenient just because you’re a woman.”

Luciano hit Flavia with a hard fist before she could say anything. A dull thud sounded at the heavy contact.

“Ahhh! It hurts! No, stop. I’ll give it… I’ll give you the antidote, so stop!”

Luciano raised his hand once again until she cried out. He stopped immediately.

Luciano returned to Alana’s room and immediately gave her the antidote, but there was no sign of improvement. As he sat by her bedside, dark circles carved under his eyes, his state of fatigue became more extreme. Not surprisingly, Luciano had not slept a wink since he had left the fortress of Fuentes.

Callisto offered to take his place, but he had refused. Knowing the deadline for her life, he vowed not to sleep unless the antidote worked.

The thought of losing her made him shiver.

He was terrified.

–Please, please. Please work!

Sweat beaded on Alana’s forehead, and he quickly wiped it off with a cloth. Her breathing was ragged. Her eyelids were closed and would not open. As time went on, he grew more and more impatient. Luciano covered his own eyes with one hand. He felt the presence of a man and took up the sword which he had placed beside him.

“Silver-haired brother is as sharp as ever. It’s me,” the man said. Luciano looked up to see Benito, the secret agent emerging from the trapdoor in the bookcase.

“What have you been waiting for since a while ago? Isn’t she sick? You don’t know; she often falls asleep. If you leave her alone, she’ll wake up soon. That’s always the case.”

“This time, it’s different. It’s poison. I gave Alana an antidote, but it doesn’t seem to work.”

“Huh? Poison?” Benito asked incredulously.

“Don’t f*ck around, such a foolish, weak girl. She’ll die soon.”

“I’m worried. Besides, Alana may be pregnant. Poison can hurt her child.”