The room seemed to shrink as Dante's words settled in the air.
Valencia stood rooted in place, her mind racing to decipher his meaning.
The flickering firelight cast long shadows across the brothers' faces, making them appear more like specters than men.
"Take a seat," Dante commanded, gesturing to the empty chair at the table.
Valencia hesitated for only a moment before obeying. H
er movements were careful, deliberate, as though one misstep might shatter the fragile tension hanging in the room.
The chair's polished wood was cold beneath her hands, grounding her as she sat.
"I'll get straight to the point," Dante began, his gaze piercing. "Your presence here isn't a coincidence. It's… orchestrated."
She blinked, the words rattling her. "Orchestrated? By whom?"
"By forces far beyond you—or us," Adrian interjected, leaning forward, the knife he had been toying with earlier now balanced on the table.
His grin was sharp, predatory.
Dante shot his brother a warning glance before continuing. "The Valencary name isn't just an echo of a forgotten past, Valencia. It carries weight. Power. Danger."
Valencia clenched her hands in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. "I don't understand. My family... they're no one. I grew up in isolation. I've never—"
"Your isolation was no accident," interrupted another brother, his voice quieter but no less intense. His gray eyes bored into hers, his expression unreadable. "It was a shield. A cage built to keep you hidden—from us, from them, from the world."
"Them?" She repeated, her voice trembling.
The brother with sun-kissed hair—who seemed almost jovial compared to the others—spoke next. "You've heard the myths, haven't you? About the Valencary bloodline? The ones tied to the underworld, to Medusa's emblem?"
Her heart skipped a beat.
The stories Esmeralda had told her as a child, always cloaked in warnings and fear, flooded her mind.
She had dismissed them as nothing more than fairy tales meant to scare her into obedience.
"I…" Her voice faltered.
"They're not myths," Dante said firmly. "They're history. And you, Valencia, are their living legacy."
The youngest brother, who had been silent until now, leaned back in his chair, his amber eyes never leaving hers. "Which makes you a target," he said, his voice low, almost a growl. "A pawn in a game you don't even know exists."
Her breath hitched as the weight of their words pressed down on her.
She looked from one brother to the next, searching for any hint of deception.
Instead, she found only cold, unyielding truth.
"I don't understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "If what you're saying is true, then why would I be here? Why would I…?"
"Because you weren't supposed to be," Dante replied. "You were supposed to stay hidden. But something—or someone—brought you here. And now, the delicate balance we've maintained is at risk of shattering."
Adrian's smirk returned, though it carried a darker edge this time. "Which begs the question, little lamb: are you here by choice, or are you the bait dangling on a string?"
Valencia felt the room spin. "Bait? For what?"
"For us," the gray-eyed brother said simply. "For the De Lucas. You've walked into the lion's den, and now every predator out there will smell the blood in the water."
Her mind reeled, struggling to keep up with the storm of revelations.
She had come here seeking freedom, a chance to discover herself.
Instead, she had stumbled into a world more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.
Dante's voice broke through her thoughts. "Whether you came here knowingly or not, you're part of this now. And that makes you our responsibility."
"Responsibility?" she echoed, incredulous.
The youngest brother, who had been quiet for most of the exchange, finally leaned forward.
The firelight danced in his amber eyes, giving him an almost otherworldly glow.
"Responsibility is a polite word for it," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "But let's be clear—if you're a threat, we'll deal with you like we would any other."
Her blood ran cold at the thinly veiled warning, but she refused to look away. "I'm not a threat," she said firmly. "I didn't come here to... to disrupt anything. I just wanted to live my life. To escape."
"Escape?" Adrian scoffed, his knife clinking against the table. "You chose the wrong place for that, cara mia. Venefica isn't a sanctuary—it's a battlefield."
Dante rose from his seat, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room. "Regardless of your intentions, you're here now. And that means two things. First, you need to learn to survive in this world—and fast. Second…" He paused, his gaze hardening. "You'll need to prove where your loyalties lie."
"Loyalties?" she asked, her voice cracking under the weight of the question.
Dante's expression didn't waver. "The Valencary name is a double-edged sword. It can either be our ally—or our enemy. Which side you fall on is entirely up to you."
The youngest brother stood as well, his movements slow, deliberate.
He walked toward her, stopping just inches away.
His amber eyes searched hers, as though peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.
"Welcome to the Devil's Playground, Valencia," he said softly, his voice dripping with both warning and promise. "Let's see if you can dance with us without getting burned."
As the door slammed shut behind her, Valencia leaned against the cold stone wall of the hallway, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
Her hands trembled as she clutched the folded invitation in her pocket.
She had come to Venefica seeking freedom, but now she realized the chains of her past had only been replaced by something far darker.
And the quintuplets—they weren't just kings of this twisted kingdom.
They were its devils.
To Be Continued...