Chapter 4 Violet Eyes in the Dark

RYDER

A few hours earlier

Russo Estate, Sicily

“This is your last chance, Ryder.”

My father’s voice drifted somewhere behind me, but I wasn’t really listening. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, staring out at the gray Sicilian coastline that stretched endlessly into the distance.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.”

The answer slipped out automatically.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. Most people would’ve been smart enough to feel afraid. I wasn’t most people.

“Stoneleigh Academy has agreed to take you back,” he said. “Again.”

I stayed quiet.

“What happened last time was… inconvenient.”

Inconvenient. That was one way to describe putting a kid in a coma.

I didn’t bother replying. There wasn’t any point.

“Finish school,” my father continued, his tone flat but final. “Get the diploma. After that, you can do whatever the hell you want.”

We both knew that was a lie. The second I graduated, the family would sink its hooks in deeper. Responsibilities. Obligations of being part of the Russo mafia. The kind of weight Lorenzo was already carrying as the golden heir.

“Lorenzo already handles enough,” he added. “Carmelo is an idiot.”

“Watch your mouth,” my mother called from the hallway.

Dad ignored her, like always.

“Assunta still has two years before university.”

At the mention of my little sister, the corner of my mouth almost twitched. She was probably the only person in this entire house I could stand for more than ten minutes.

I exhaled slowly, still watching the waves crash against the cliffs below.

“Fine.”

My father paused, surprised. “Fine?”

“I’ll go.”

He didn’t hide his relief. For him, the conversation was over.

For me, it was just another cage with better scenery.

Ten minutes later, I was on the jet.

The flight passed in a hazy blur. I slept through most of it and woke up already irritated as the familiar rooftops of Stoneleigh Academy came into view below.

The principal greeted me personally at the entrance—smiling too wide, talking too much, pretending we didn’t both know exactly why I’d been expelled the first time. I tuned him out until he finally shut up.

I found my classroom on my own.

The second I opened the door, the sharp metallic scent of blood hit me.

My eyes dropped to the girl sitting on the floor.

Tiny. Curvy. Long black hair falling around her face like a curtain.

For a second I thought she was crying. Then she lifted her head.

Violet eyes. Huge, bright, and strangely beautiful.

Blood trickled steadily from her nose, dripping onto the floor.

Someone had hurt her. And from the look on her face, it wasn’t the first time.

My gaze flicked briefly to Cross. Interesting.

“Move,” I said quietly.

She scrambled up so fast she nearly lost her balance. She barely reached my chest.

That’s when her scent hit me—ripe peaches, warm and sweet, with something soft and milky underneath. It wrapped around me, dangerously distracting.

I frowned.

Weird.

I ignored the feeling and walked past her to my seat, but my eyes kept drifting back.

I didn’t even know her name yet.

Then lunchtime came, and somehow she ended up sitting at my table—like she hadn’t noticed the way everyone else avoided it. Like she had no idea who I was.

Like she wasn’t afraid.

That alone made her interesting.

But then I saw it.

Right as she sat down, a faint purple shimmer flickered above her head. Invisible to everyone else.

Only visible to me.

Occhio Benedetto. The Gift of the Eye.

The purple essence pulsed once… twice… then disappeared.

My jaw tightened.

That wasn’t normal.

Essence like that only appeared around people tied to something beyond the living world. And whatever had attached itself to this girl—Liona Vaughn—it wasn’t gone.

I could still feel it.

Watching her.

Waiting.

Following.

For the first time in months, something at Stoneleigh Academy had actually caught my attention.

And it was annoying as hell.

The rest of the day dragged. Teachers droned on. Students pretended to pay attention. I ignored all of it. But no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept circling back to the scholarship girl.

Liona Vaughn.

The name felt strange sitting in my head. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the purple essence I’d seen around her. Maybe it was the way she’d looked me dead in the eye when most people couldn’t hold my gaze for more than a few seconds.

By the time classes finally ended, I was pissed off.

Everyone else disappeared into their dorms. I headed to mine. Unlike the rest of these spoiled idiots, I had an entire suite to myself. I dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, but five minutes later I was still thinking about those violet eyes.

Pathetic.

I sat up with a sharp curse.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed the first terrified first-year I found in the hallway. The kid looked like he might pass out when I fisted his uniform.

“Where does Vaughn stay?”

His eyes went wide. “The scholarship girl?”

Interesting. So everyone already knew who she was.

I tightened my grip just enough. “What dorm?”

“North Hall,” he squeaked. “Fourth floor. Room four-twelve.”

I released him and he practically bolted.

Twenty minutes later, I was outside North Hall. The old stone building climbed four stories, wrapped in ivy. Most people would’ve used the front door.

I wasn’t most people.

The drainpipe and balconies made it easy. A few quiet minutes later, I dropped silently onto the narrow balcony outside room 412.

The lights were off inside. Moonlight poured through the glass, painting everything silver.

And there she was.

Asleep. Curled up small beneath her blanket, long black hair spilled across the pillow. For a second, she almost looked peaceful.

Then I saw what surrounded her.

My jaw clenched.

Spirits. Dozens of them.

Not strong enough to kill her. Not yet. But too many. They crowded her bed like vultures—whispering, reaching, watching. One stretched a pale hand toward her face. Another hovered near her feet. A third stared down at her with raw hunger in its hollow eyes.

No wonder she looked exhausted all the time.

Then the purple essence flared.

Bright. Violent. Powerful.

The spirits scattered instantly. Some vanished completely. The rest fled to the corners of the room, suddenly afraid.

For a moment, they held back.

Then the light faded… and they crept back. One by one. Drawn to her again like moths to flame.

Liona started twisting under the blankets. Her breathing turned ragged. The whispers grew louder, more frantic.

I couldn’t make out the words, but I could feel the wrongness in them.

Something was very wrong.

Then she screamed.

The sound tore through the quiet night.

Her eyes flew open, wide, terrified and locked straight onto mine through the glass.

My body went completely still.

For one impossible second, it felt like she could actually see me. Not the spirits.

Me.

Those huge violet eyes held mine, raw fear shining in them.

I didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Then she blinked.

And I was already gone—dropping from the balcony and melting into the shadows below.

But the image of those frightened violet eyes followed me all the way back to my room.