Chapter 11

Satyr

THE place appeared to be well over a decade old. The furniture surrounding me evoked images of ancient civilizations, resembling Egyptian paintings and sculptures. It felt as if I had been transported to a prehistoric era. I had once told Fiore that a long vacation here after our wedding would be nice, even if it meant not visiting the countries he had promised. We could have chosen to stay here for our honeymoon.

But now, I no longer wished to be in this place. I yearned to escape from this situation. Despite its picturesque beauty, it felt empty, desolate, and shattered. This was far from the ideal vacation I had envisioned, or the flawless prenuptial retreat. Every corner of this place served as a painful reminder of him. It felt like a cage filled with misery.

I needed to talk to Xylon. Perhaps he already knew a way for us to leave this place. Fiore had taken our only means of escape with him. We had driven here from Manila with his detestable buddy. How could we possibly re