My heart pounded violently.
My thumb found the pulse at my inner wrist. It was racing.
Footsteps thundered from the hallway.
"Celeste!"
Dominic's voice echoed sharply as he rushed into the room.
His eyes landed on her instantly. On her trembling, convulsing body.
Panic overtook his expression.
"Celeste! Wake up! Celeste!"
He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to lift her, his voice breaking through the tension.
Then he turned to me.
His gaze was sharp, accusing.
"What did you do?!"
Before I could answer, the clinic director arrived, his face pale, sweat forming along his temples as he quickly assessed the situation. He knelt down, checking Celeste's condition with practiced efficiency. His expression darkened.
"The signora's vitals are unstable," he said urgently. "She's suffocating. If we don't act fast, we'll lose the child."
The words hit like a hammer.
His next sentence came even faster.
"We need to deconstruct the subject now to determine the survival potential."
Silence fell.
Heavy. Suffocating.
The fluorescent lights of the black clinic hummed above us, the only sound in a room where no one breathed.
Dominic's chest rose and fell violently as he stood there, his eyes fixed on me.
There was something in his gaze.
Conflict. Hesitation.
But it didn't last.
"…Prepare the operating table," he said finally.
His voice was firm. Decisive.
That was his answer.
Moments later, I was strapped onto the clinic table.
Cold metal pressed against my back, seeping through my skin, anchoring me in place. My wrists were secured. My legs immobilized. There was no escape.
The final death was coming. I could feel it.
My thumb had gone still against my wrist. I wasn't checking for a pulse anymore.
As the anesthesia began to flow into my veins, a cold numbness spreading slowly through my body, Celeste leaned in close. Her face hovered just above mine, her breath warm against my ear.
Her voice was sharp. Like a blade.
"Don't worry," she whispered, her lips curling slightly. "Once you're dissected, I'll personally send your ashes to the crematorium."
Her eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction.
"No matter how powerful you are… you can't come back from dust."
I saw Dominic standing nearby.
Still. Silent.
His brow furrowed slightly, his chest tight, something unreadable flickering across his face. His signet ring sat motionless on his finger. He had already decided.