Chapter 53

Chapter 53

“…what was that?”

Damon’s voice barely sounded like his own.

Too calm.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that came right before something shattered.

Rain hammered violently against the penthouse windows while static flickered across every screen.

Luca couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe properly.

Because the footage

The rain.

The gunfire.

The screaming

Something inside him recognized it.

Not clearly.

Not fully.

But enough to hurt.

“Luca.”

Damon said his name again.

Sharper this time.

Demanding truth.

Luca forced himself to speak.

“…I don’t know.”

The lie broke apart halfway out of his mouth.

Because now

He did know something.

Not facts.

Not details.

Fragments.

A woman screaming.

Rain pouring down his face.

Blood on his hands.

And Hale’s voice:

“Complete the mission.”

Luca staggered slightly.

Seraphine grabbed his arm immediately.

“Hey.”

Luca jerked away instinctively.

Not from her.

From the memory.

Damon saw all of it.

The panic.

The fear.

The recognition.

And suddenly the room felt too small.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Damon asked quietly.

Luca looked at him.

And for the first time in a very long time

He didn’t know how to answer.

Because what if Hale was right?

What if there was something buried inside him?

Something unforgivable?

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room.

The static screens.

The rain.

Damon’s face.

And suddenly

Another memory hit.

A little boy crying.

Hidden behind someone.

Terrified.

Luca sucked in a sharp breath.

His hand flew instinctively toward his head.

“Luca,” Seraphine said immediately.

Concern now.

Real concern.

The screens flickered again.

Then Hale’s voice filled the penthouse calmly.

“Memory is fascinating.”

Damon’s entire body tensed instantly.

“Hale.”

“Trauma fractures perception,” Hale continued evenly.

“It protects the mind from truths it cannot survive.”

“Shut up,” Luca snapped immediately.

Silence followed.

Brief.

Then

A soft almost amused exhale from the speakers.

“There it is.”

Damon stepped forward.

“Show yourself.”

“No.”

A pause.

“You’re not ready for that conversation yet.”

The screens shifted suddenly.

New footage appearing.

Different angle.

Different date.

A younger Luca entered frame again.

This time clearer.

Seventeen.

Maybe eighteen.

Cold eyes.

Black tactical clothing.

Gun in hand.

Damon’s pulse stopped.

Because it was undeniably Luca.

The footage showed him moving through heavy rain toward a black vehicle.

Fast.

Precise.

Lethal.

Then

Gunfire erupted.

The video glitched violently before impact.

But one thing became horrifyingly clear:

This wasn’t random.

This was an assassination.

Seraphine whispered softly:

“…oh God.”

Luca stared at the screen like he couldn’t recognize himself.

Because he almost couldn’t.

The boy in the footage looked empty.

Not human.

Not alive.

Just programmed.

Hale’s voice returned softly.

“You wanted to know where he came from.”

Damon’s jaw tightened painfully.

“Stop talking.”

But Hale continued anyway.

“He was efficient even then.”

A beat.

“Obedient.”

Luca’s breathing became uneven.

Fragments kept crashing into him now.

Rain.

Orders.

A woman shielding someone.

A child crying.

And blood.

So much blood.

“No,” Luca whispered.

More to himself than anyone else.

Damon looked at him sharply.

“What do you remember?”

Luca shook his head immediately.

Too fast.

Panic rising visibly now.

“I don’t”

He stopped breathing properly.

Another flash

A woman collapsing.

The sound of screaming.

His own hands shaking afterward.

Luca staggered backward hard enough to hit the kitchen counter.

Seraphine moved toward him again.

“Luca, breathe.”

But he barely heard her.

Because something buried deep inside him was clawing its way out now.

Hale’s voice lowered through the speakers.

Almost gentle.

“You were very young.”

Damon froze.

And suddenly

The implication landed.

Young.

Rain.

Assassination.

A woman.

No.

No.

Damon looked slowly toward the footage again.

Toward the date glitched faintly at the bottom corner.

His stomach dropped violently.

Because even corrupted

He recognized the year.

The year his mother died.

The room tilted.

“No,” Damon whispered.

Luca looked at him immediately.

And the second their eyes met

Something horrible passed silently between them.

Recognition.

Fear.

Truth trying to surface.

Hale said softly:

“Now you’re starting to understand.”

Damon stepped toward the screen slowly.

Like approaching a loaded weapon.

“What did he do?”

Silence.

Purposeful.

Cruel.

Then Hale answered:

“He completed the mission.”