damnedmisery

[damnedmisery]

𝗪𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗥: 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙏 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎, 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒖𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚.

Sometimes you sense it before it arrives, a shadow curling in the night, as if the world itself is warning you. It was the kind of night that presses against your skin and makes your blood hum in your veins. I shouldn’t have been out this late or lingered around the building I now own. Spencer had no idea this place existed. This was the one thing I allowed myself to claim. A space I could shape, a place where the air didn’t suffocate me. A fragment of freedom. A whisper of hope I could finally call my own.

The parking lot was silent before my heels clicked against the asphalt. I shouldn’t have ignored the warning, the whisper of unease that had been crawling along my spine. It all made sense the moment a cold hand slammed over my mouth. My body slammed into the wall behind me, panic tearing through my chest like claws.

“Finally… Spencer’s daughter.” The man’s voice hissed, I had no idea who he was but I know I’m in danger. “Even prettier than I imagined.”

I squirmed in his grasp. Something inside me screams that this was life or death. My teeth sank into flesh of his hand, drawing a cry of pain from him. He staggered, releasing me just enough to slip free but the world tilted and I stumbled and he caught me again, slamming me across concrete brutally.

“Now, now… that wasn’t nice, was it, bitch?” he snarled, the blade in his hand catching the faint light. “Whatever you’re trying to do to me isn’t nice either!” I snapped at him.

I won’t cry, nor will I beg. Every scar and bruise had taught me this. . . pain was fuel, fear was nothing. If he thought I wouldn’t fight, he was wrong. I spat right in his face…little did I know I’d regret that. “You prefer the hard way. So be it.” His final words.

The knife plunged into my side. Fire exploded in my chest and I gasped, tasting copper. Pain twisted every breath into jagged shards. He pulled it out only to sink it in again. Every heartbeat became a countdown. Every second felt like a lifetime.

And still… I won’t give up.

I reached inside my jacket, fingers closing around the cold steel of my own blade. This is my last chance. I have to get away. I drove it into his shoulder, sinking it deep. He let out a shout, staggering back just enough for me to slip free.

My palm pressed against the wound in my side, warm blood soaking my fingers. Every step is a struggle, my vision blurring around the edges. I saw my car taunting me from just a few feet away but my legs are betraying me. The world tilts, the night twisting around me, and I realize with a jolt that I might not make it.

My lungs begged for air I didn’t have. I felt myself slipping until I couldn’t fight it anymore. I collapsed and pure darkness absorbed me.

I thought it was all over, that I’d finally surrendered to the void but suddenly the world shifted.

I woke to dimness, a room that smelled faintly of damp stone and decay. Pain radiated from my side, each heartbeat a hammer. There is a man standing over me. Not the same one from earlier. This man carries a dangerous calm, nothing like the chaos of the one before. He must be the boss.

“Don’t take this personal… your father and I have a score.” he said.

I tried to rise. Agony tore through me. “He isn’t in control anymore. I am. How much does he owe you?”

He laughed. “Don’t be naive. Some debts require blood, not money..”

For him to go to these lengths, Spencer must’ve done something truly vile. I don’t even ask what, he’s capable of worse and I know it.

The man tilted his head. “You don’t look surprised.” he said, reading the quiet in my silence.

I said nothing, talking would take the little energy I have left. He chuckled and then said “Well, that is quite a wound. Forgive Julius. He tends to get a bit… bloodthirsty. Wants to prove himself.”

I pressed my hands against my side. Numbness slithered into my limbs, a cold thief stealing strength. His words might as well have been whispers in another life because I couldn’t care less. None of it mattered. Not him, not Spencer, not the world. Only the pounding of my own heart behind my closed eyes and the blur creeping across my vision.

Darkness had claimed me completely, a quiet I almost let myself surrender to but then I awoke again.

Spencer was right in front of me. He was kneeling, eyes wide with something I had never thought I’d see from him. . . It was care.

“They said they didn’t hurt you! I agreed to take your place if you were in one piece.” he murmured.

“Who? What?” Every word was a struggle. I could barely think or breathe.

“We have no time, 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚. I always told you and Malik that a day would come when I’d be gone. I thought he’d be here at your side but he isn’t. So it falls to you alone but I know you can bear it.”

My head shook. Confusion clawed at me. “What are you saying? Taking my place? Dad…don’t be ridiculous!” He was always a man with a plan, something infuriating and yet impossible not to respect. Quitting wasn’t in his nature. “Why… why are you doing this?”

He leaned closer, hand finding mine. “You’re my daughter, Melina. Not by blood but by everything that matters. I love you. Not perfectly. My father wasn’t perfect either but maybe one day… you’ll understand.”

I can’t escape this twisting guilt clawing at me. After all I’ve wanted him dead. I made plans to end him for plotting against me and now I’m crushed under the weight of this. . . sympathy?

How can the man who’s spent a lifetime destroying me make me feel something so unbearable? He’s done unspeakable things, yet here he is, risking everything for me as if that alone redeems him.

I hate my father with every fiber of me but part of me still loves him and that makes my chest ache more than any wound ever could.

Deep down, I also knew I would be alone. Malik was gone. Lillian’s heart only beat for her diamonds. I had no one. . . and maybe I should’ve realized that long before now. I found the last bit of strength and grasped his hand, squeezing it desperately. “Don’t… don’t do this.”

In all my years, I had never seen him break but now a single tear fell, tracing a cold line down his face as his lips pressed against my forehead.

“Goodbye, 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the towering silhouette in the doorway. “Take her. Now.”

The man moved, lifting me effortlessly into his arms and carrying me away despite my frantic hands reaching for my father. My voice breaking as I beg them to stop. I’m not ready to let him go but there’s nothing left I can do.

I was taken through the rain-soaked night, my body a cage of fire and ice. Every step sent knives of pain through my side, every breath a jagged whisper of life. My vision swam, shadows bleeding together.

Voices echoed around me, indistinct at first, then sharp. Commands barked, footsteps clattering.

“Mr. Young, I have her..” he said and next another voice cut through the haze. It was Noah’s ( @/paintedwithsins ) “And Spencer?” He asked and the man answered coldly. “Seems like he kept his word.”

Noah laughed and it was like an edge in the darkness. “As if he ever had a choice. I had to force him to save his own daughter’s life. He isn’t worth a single tear she might waste on him.” Then he paused, tone changing when he saw the blood clinging to me, the deep wound in my side. “Find out who stabbed her! I’ll deal with them later.”

I let my eyes fall closed, too weak to fight, yet I felt the tremor in his hands as he gripped me.

Even as darkness licked at the edges of my vision, the weight of him holding me, refusing to let go, was a tether I couldn’t break

The world tilted. My limbs felt like lead. Blood soaked into my clothes. I tried to speak, to move but the strength left me, slipping through my fingers.

The last thing I felt before surrendering to the blackness was the weight of the world pressing down on me. The impossible pulse of life still stubbornly thrumming in my chest.

I let the darkness take me. . . and for once I didn’t fight it.

[damnedmisery]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒇 𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲.

The morning sun spilled through the mansion windows like a lie dressed in gold. I moved quietly, soft hush of my steps echoing through the silence. My fingers brushed over the newly installed security console as I reviewed the camera feeds.

It had been weeks since I discovered the truth, since the world tilted on its axis and tried to swallow me whole. The old Melina might’ve let it. She would’ve shattered into glass and let someone else sweep the pieces under the rug. . .

but that girl is 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. She had to 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

Because the game I’m playing now? It requires precision. Control. Discipline so sharp it can slit throats in silence. I can’t flinch. Not for pain. Not for love. Not even for blood.

Spencer is no longer in his coma, unfortunately. He’s regained just enough strength to breathe the same air again, to slither around in his tailored skin with that reptilian smirk. I still want him dead but not like this. There’s no satisfaction in striking a crippled king. I want him at his most powerful. I want him certain that he’s still holding all the strings.

So I let him believe it. I dress the part.

The loving daughter. The careful caretaker.

The guilt ridden girl who almost lost the man who raised her.

He doesn’t know I’ve hired my own security now. Men who answer to me and only me. He doesn’t know that the empire he built is already crumbling at its foundation. I’m dismantling it all right under his nose.

I stepped into the dining room where breakfast was already set, sunlight dancing across polished silverware and fresh fruit. Spencer sat with a newspaper in one hand and a steaming cup in the other. Lillian perched beside him.

“Your father is looking better and better.” she said. “I have you to thank for that, Melina.”

For once, there was warmth in her voice. It almost startled me.

I rolled my eyes. “Complimenting me must’ve seared your throat.” I dropped into the chair opposite them with a sharp smirk.

Spencer folded his paper, his dark eyes meeting mine. “𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚…” he said softly and I felt my jaw tighten. “I’ve been thinking. In the past, I’ve been… hard on you. Especially about your boyfriends. I’d like to change that. I’d like to meet 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐢.”

The name hit like a blade between the ribs.

My chest tightened and a suffocating ache bloomed. My hands curled slightly on the table, knuckles whitening as the memory crept in. I hadn’t let myself think about him like this but the silence made space for ghosts and Malakai’s was the loudest of them all.

I remembered the last time I saw him. The way the warmth drained from his eyes until all that was left was frost. Love didn’t just die in him… it turned violent. I saw it in the way he looked at me like I was nothing but a ruined thing. A bloodstained relic of something that used to be holy. 𝐻𝑖𝑠. In that moment, no matter how I begged, I wasn’t his anymore.

He threw me across the room like my body meant nothing. Called me broken. Weak. Accused me of betraying him, of letting someone else lay claim to my heart… and in his eyes, that made me filthy. 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅.

I told him he was hurting me. I told him to stop. I begged, not because I didn’t know how to fight, but because I still loved him. Even as he kicked at my ribs like he was waiting for the snap. As if the sound would prove I was as hollow as he believed.

The worst part is that a piece of me would’ve let it go on because loving him felt like penance. I thought maybe if I just held on longer, he’d come back to me.

I knew I was being naive and something in me finally screamed loud enough to make me run.

I barely made it out.

I hated him for what he did but what I hate more is part of me aches for the boy I once loved in the man who nearly killed me.

“He’s not my boyfriend and I won’t be seeing him anymore.” I finally said flat and cold.

For the first time in a long while, I saw something foreign on Spencer’s face…like an echo of sadness. Could he feel something? or was he playing me too? My stomach twisted.

I reached for the coffee, needing something to hold. I thought of Malakai. Of how I let him in, how I bled in front of him. How I trusted him with wounds I never showed anyone else… only to be left open and hollow again.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 and this life I’m surviving has no room for ghosts.

Lillian’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Malik will be here soon. He’s coming by to have breakfast with us. I feel like we’re coming together as a family again.” I placed the cup down, appetite long gone. “You three enjoy.” I said, rising to my feet. “I just remembered I have something to take care of.”

Lillian sighed. “Every time he’s coming, you leave. He… he worries about you, Melina.”

That meant nothing to me.

I walked over to my father, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek soft enough to appear tender, distant enough to keep my soul intact. Before I could step away, his hand caught mine.

“Hey..” he said, voice threaded with something like sentiment. “No matter what… we’re always family.”

I nodded, obedient as a well-trained puppet. That’s what he wanted to see.

“Part of me always thought you and Malik would…”

I cut him off quickly “The nurse will be by soon. Make sure you eat so your therapy goes well. Try not to overdo it.”

I pulled my hand away and walked off without looking back. I didn’t say anything I didn’t have to. I know Malik is the one he prefers. I’ve always known. He was his golden boy and I..I’m just a pawn he polishes when he wants to taunt his enemy…that enemy must be my real father.

I don’t care if Lillian sees a broken family that needs mending. I care about destroying Spencer and if her or her son stand in the way of that, I’ll destroy them too.

This isn’t a redemption arc.

It’s a reckoning and I won’t stop until the devil who raised me is crawling.

[damnedmisery]

❦ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ❦

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡, 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞.

The house was too quiet again.

That kind of quiet that presses against your skin and slides down your spine like a knife. Rain tapped at the windows like impatient fingers and every creak of the old wood echoed like a warning. I should’ve been sleeping. I should’ve been anywhere but here.

My father was in a coma after what happened, suspended somewhere between life and punishment. There were too many questions still bleeding in my mind. So many feelings I hadn’t dared to name and I shut down. Closed the doors, locked the windows and turned off the world. I avoided Lillian. Avoided Malik. Avoided Malakai who meant so much to me. I even avoided the few friends who still dared to care because I knew where these emotions were headed and it wasn’t someplace safe.

My body moved before reason could catch it, bare feet padded softly across the marble. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Maybe a ghost. Maybe proof that I wasn’t losing my mind but the air was too heavy tonight, like it knew something I didn’t.

The door to my fathers office was cracked open.

He never left it open.

For a second I just stood there, staring into the dark like it would reach out and close the door on me…but it didn’t. The shadows waited. So I stepped inside.

It smelled like leather and secrets.

Books lined the shelves in neat rows, all spines unreadable in the dim glow. The curtains were drawn. One drawer hung open, like someone was in the middle of something and got interrupted. I don’t know why my fingers moved toward it, why I started searching…maybe because grief makes you desperate or maybe because something deep down in me had already started to scream.

That’s when I saw the folder.

Black. Unlabeled except for one gold word pressed into the surface: “𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆.”

I opened it and the air left my lungs after.

Inside were documents. Arrangements. My funeral.

Dates, signatures. Even a eulogy draft.

“𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳．𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵． 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯. 𝘈𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘭 14𝘵𝘩"

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔.

It was written like it already happened. Like I was already dead. I sank down into the leather chair like the room was tilting around me.

My name printed over and over again on a death certificate mock-up, on a check made out to a mortuary, on a will with conditions and clauses and blood money promises.

𝐌𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to stop the sound that clawed its way out of my throat. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I just sat there, shivering from the inside out.

Then I saw it.

A tear in the back panel of the bookshelf, barely visible.

I pulled at it and something fell forward into my hands. Old leather. Cracked spine. A faint perfume I hadn’t smelled in years.

𝐌𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥.

My fingers trembled as I opened it, pages soft and worn, full of ink and anguish. At first, it was all memories. Little things she wrote about me, things I don’t remember. The way I used to hum to myself in the dark. The way I curled against her at night when I had nightmares.

Then it changed.

“𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠. 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑛'𝑡. 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑏𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑦 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡. 𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑀𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑎．．．𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“𝐻𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠．𝐻𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟．𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑟𝑢𝑛，ℎ𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑛.”

I dropped the journal.

The sound of it hitting the floor was too loud. It echoed in my chest.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

Everything started to tilt, the walls of the office pressing inward, lights flickering from memory and madness. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head, singing something soft, something foreign I never understood. A lullaby meant for someone else’s daughter.

I clutched at the desk, trying to keep myself tethered but it was no use. Everything I knew, everything I loved, feared and hated…it was all built on a lie.

And the man in the coma upstairs?

He was never trying to protect me.

He was trying to finish what he started.

My entire life was a lie. Years spent under the thumb of a man I never had to belong to. A man who bled control into every inch of my existence. Who wore the mask of “𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳” while severing every part of me that could’ve been free. He wasn’t my blood.

He killed my 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

He killed my 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

He caged me in silence, isolation, obedience.

And now… he tried to kill 𝐦𝐞 but it backfired.

This is my second chance. I can’t waste it mourning a monster or wishing him into something softer.

Hope is a poison I’ve swallowed for too long.

It’s either eat or be eaten…and nothing has ever been more clear.

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

[damnedmisery]

❦ 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 ❦

𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭. . . 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

The voices, music and clinking of crystal glasses. It all blurred behind me, fading into nothing the moment I stepped outside. The air was sharp and cool against my skin but not enough to chase away the fire burning beneath it.

I left and I didn’t care.

I walked with purpose, heels clicking against the pavement, my dress shifting around my legs like restless shadows. The event still raged on behind me, full of people with polite smiles and calculating eyes, full of whispered conversations over champagne.

A world I was meant to fit into but one I wanted to burn. Footsteps followed behind me. Steady. Measured. I knew who it was before I turned.

My father.

He stood beneath the golden glow of the building’s entrance, his dark eyes locking onto me like a warning. Even in the dim light, I could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched at his side like he could barely contain his anger.

“Melina.”

His voice was low, sharp as the crack of a whip.

I stopped. Only because I knew I had no choice.

He reached me in three strides, looming just behind me. The weight of his presence pressed against my spine.

“Get in the car.”

The words were soft but there was no mistaking them for a request. I clenched my jaw, staring straight ahead. I could fight. I could demand he let me be but it would be useless and I was too tired for a war I wouldn’t win.

Without a word, I walked to the car and slid inside. The door shut with a finality that made my skin prickle. The moment the driver pulled onto the road, the silence stretched thick between us, coiling in the small space. It was almost suffocating.

“You embarrassed me.”

I flinched. Not because I wasn’t expecting it but because the weight of his disappointment still found a way to bruise me.

I turned my head, watching the city blur past in streaks of gold and black. The neon signs, the passing figures of strangers, the reflection of the moon on wet pavement. I wanted to drown him out.

“This behavior” he continued, voice like stone.“This defiance. . . 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.”

A sharp cold pain bloomed in my chest. I closed my eyes. 𝐌𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. He never spoke of her unless it was to cut me with her name. He knew what it did to me. I swallowed against the rising lump in my throat and turned to him. A tear slipped free before I could stop it.

“You’re a monster.”

His face didn’t change but something flickered in his eyes. I let the words settle before I continued.

“You want to know why I left? Because Nolan is onto you!”

His head tilted slightly. Barely a reaction but I knew him well enough to recognize the shift in his demeanor.

“He had me cornered upstairs and you didn’t even see it.”

His fingers curled against his knee. His mouth pressed into a thin line. “What do you mean, he cornered you?” His voice dipped lower, like a storm just before it breaks. “Did he touch you?”

I looked away and I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

“𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚! Answer me!”

That was enough for me. The skin around my stitches still sting for Nolan’s grasp.

The car slowed, pulling up to the house. I was out of my seat before it fully stopped, shoving the door open and stepping into the night. I just needed to be away from him, from all of this.

I had barely taken two steps before a sound shattered the night.

It was gunfire followed by my father’s gasp.

I turned just in time to see him stumble, his hand clutching at his chest. His breath hitched, eyes wide in disbelief and then he fell.

For a moment, everything was silent.

The world held its breath and then it all came crashing in at once.

The metallic scent of blood filled the air. Security swarmed around us, voices overlapping, someone shouting into a radio. My heart slammed against my ribs, my own breath coming fast.

𝐍𝐨. . . 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥.

I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands pressing against the wound before I could even think. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm, thick and endless.

“Dad!” My voice barely came out. “No, no, no, stay with me!”

His lips parted but no words came out. Just blood. My throat clenched, my vision blurring. I should let him bleed. Let him drown in his sins, let the past spill out of him, drop by drop.

But I couldn’t. He’s all I have. I have to save him.

Security helped lift him into the car. I barely processed moving, barely processed anything beyond the red staining my hands, my dress and the seat beneath him.

I sped through the city, my hands gripping the wheel so tight they ached.

“Stay awake! I’m going to get you to a hospital, okay?!” I pleaded, my voice breaking. He coughed, his chest rising in shallow, unsteady movements. His lips trembled, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I… I’m sorry, 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚…”

I shook my head violently. “Shut up! You’re not saying goodbye to me.” I pressed harder on the gas.

My father was the monster in my story, yet here I am, clinging to him, trying to save him. Holding onto him feels like gripping shards of glass. Each second slicing deeper, each moment drawing more blood. I know that if I let go, he would shatter completely and maybe that’s how this was always meant to end...but I wasn’t ready to let go.

The hospital was a blur of bright lights and too many hands pulling him away. I stood in the waiting room, pacing. My fingers trembled at my sides, still stained red.

If he dies I will be alone.

Completely and entirely alone.

“Melina!”

I turned to the sound of my name. It was Lillian. My stepmother. We had never been close but now she grabbed me, her eyes scanning me with something dangerously close to concern. “You’re okay!” She said and I barely nodded. “He’s in surgery.” I said and she exhaled, stepping back and that’s when I saw him.

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐤.

My breath caught. He stood behind her, shadows clinging to him like an old wound. His dark eyes flickered over me, taking in the blood, the shaking. Then he was in front of me, his arms wrapping around me in a crushing embrace.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have left.” I closed my eyes, gripping onto him like he was the only solid thing left in the world.

“Melina.”

I hear my name but this time it’s a different voice but it’s familiar. I slowly turned towards it.

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐢.

I stepped toward him but Malik’s grip tightened.

“Who is he?” I was hesitant. Malik hasn’t been around so of course he doesn’t have the update and none of it really mattered right now. “This is Malakai. He’s here for me.”

Malik scoffed softly as if he’s almost amused. “Malakai…” he repeated, like he was testing the name.“ Why the fuck is he here? Who even told him?”

Malakai didn’t blink. His gaze locked onto Malik. “And who the fuck are you?” Malik smirked but there was no humor in it. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned and stalked away, dropping into a chair beside Lillian.

I swallowed hard, turning back to Malakai. “That’s my stepbrother, Malik. He’s just upset. He doesn’t trust anyone right now.”

Malakai barely spared Malik a glance. He reached for me, his fingers skimming my stained hands, his expression darkening.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer like this, Melina.”

Then he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. He was right but my mind was only on the blood. The sound of the gunshot and my fathers gasping breath, the way his life bled between my fingers.

There is a terrible ache in me. One of knowing that if he didn’t survive, something in me wouldn’t either.

[damnedmisery]

❦ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔, 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒆 ❦

“𝙄𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨, 𝙬𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨—𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙠."

I stood at the counter, my fingers absentmindedly stirring my coffee but the liquid was barely registering. The scalding heat from the cup didn’t reach me. My mind was stuck in a haze, replaying the accident over and over again. The scar on my palm felt like a weight, a constant reminder that I’d nearly lost everything. I hadn’t expected anyone to care. Especially not 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧.

The door creaked open behind me and I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. It was Spencer. My father.

“𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚 ” he greeted, his voice cool and detached, just like always. He didn’t ask how I was doing, didn’t ask how I felt. He didn’t need to. As usual, I was just a tool for whatever scheme he was working on. I forced myself to remain still, pretending I hadn’t heard the sharpness in his voice, the thinly veiled contempt that always accompanied him when he spoke to me.

“You look better.” He sounded like he was examining me, noting my recovery as if I were nothing more than a property he had to manage. “Glad to see you’ve healed up so quickly.”

I turned slowly, my grip on the cup tightening. “That’s it? No ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there.’ or ‘I hope you’re okay’?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “You’re fine. Let’s not make this about you, alright?” His eyes flickered toward the kitchen window, as if the view of the street outside was far more important than anything I had to say. “I need you tonight. The Agosti family is hosting an event. I want you there.”

The words were strong enough to press on the wound over my heart. My vision blurred with rage for a moment and I felt the room close in on me. The Agosti family. Nicholas Agosti. My best friend. The boy I loved. The one my father shot in cold blood.

I swallowed hard, trying to push back the rising tide of fury. My father killed him and now he wanted me to sit with his family and pretend. Even worse that he wanted me to help him.

“You’re unbelievable.” I snapped at him. “No!”

Spencer’s face remained impassive. He didn’t even flinch. “You will, 𝙙𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚.” he said, his voice chillingly calm. “You don’t have a choice. We need to be on good terms with the Agostis and you’re going to help me make that happen.”

His words cut through me like glass but I refused to back down. “You killed Nicholas.” I hissed, my hands trembling as I set my coffee down. “You murdered him and now you want me to help you play nice with his family?”

I could see the flicker of irritation cross his face but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. Spencer didn’t get angry. He didn’t need to. He had a way of making you feel small and insignificant like you didn’t matter. Like he owned you. “You’ll come with me tonight, 𝙙𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚.” he said, an edge of warning in his tone.

I opened my mouth to argue but he was already walking away like the conversation was over. It wasn’t over for me but I knew better than to push him further.

As always he was the puppeteer pulling my strings— because later I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror, the black dress clinging to my body like a second skin. My hair was done up in soft, pinned curls. Everything about this felt wrong but what other choice do I have?

The limo ride was silent, the soft hum of the engine doing little to soothe the ache in my chest. My mind kept drifting to everything. Nicholas. The accident.

“You look stunning, 𝙙𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚.” My father said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. I glanced over at him. His tone was flat and devoid of any warmth. I made no mistakes though. This wasn’t a compliment from him. It was an observation.

“Stop talking to me.” I muttered, my eyes trained on the passing streetlights, the city blurring outside the window. Was I really going to do this?

Spencer leaned forward, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “When we get there, I need you to get close to Nolan Agosti.”

The words sent a jolt through me. Nolan Agosti. The older brother. The one who had never been as kind or as forgiving as Nicholas. The one who had always been just as ruthless as my father. He was a businessman through and through, and my father wanted me to—what? Use my charms to get him on our side?

The thought made my stomach twist with disgust. “You want me to seduce him?” I asked, trying to keep the bitterness from seeping into my voice.

Spencer didn’t flinch. “Get close to him. That’s all I’m asking. I need the Agosti family in our corner and you’re the perfect person to make that happen. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I couldn’t hide the disgust that spread across my face. “I’m not a pawn in your games!” His eyes narrowed but his tone remained eerily calm. “You’ll do what you have to, Melina. You always do.”

We finally arrived to the mansion. I’m trying to keep my cool but this was all so overwhelming. I stepped out of the limo, trying to steady my breath but the moment I set foot on the polished marble floors, I could feel every eye on me and I hated it. I hated all of it.

I kept my head down, forcing myself through the crowd, nodding politely to a few people I barely knew. It didn’t matter. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t want to be here but I had no choice.

I excused myself from the group I’d been talking to and slipped away into the quieter corners. It didn’t take long to find a sanctuary—an elegant, book-lined room tucked away from the noise. The smell of old paper and leather filled my lungs as I ran my fingers over the spines of the books. It was calming— almost nostalgic.

“Melina.”

I froze. The voice was unmistakable. 𝙉𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙣 𝘼𝙜𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙞. He stood in the doorway, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the room. His black suit seemed to absorb the light, making him look like a predator. It was dangerous but impossible to ignore. His dark eyes locked onto mine.

“You healed up pretty quick.” his voice a smooth rasp that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. I forced myself to stay composed but my stomach twisted. The scar on my palm, the one I had tried to ignore for so long, throbbed as though it could feel his gaze on it.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. The space between us closed with each step he took. “What’s the real reason you’re hiding, Melina?” His voice was like silk but there was an edge to it. “Is it guilt? Is that why you’re staying in the shadows?”

I swallowed, trying to steady my pulse but his presence was suffocating. I refused to back down, even though the urge to run was pressing. “Do I look like I’m hiding, Nolan?” I said laced with sarcasm.

Nolan’s expression darkened, his lips curling into a smirk that sent a chill down my spine. “You can fool everyone else but not me. I know you’re hiding something but for how long? I’ll find out what really happened to Nicholas soon enough.” His words sounded like a dangerous promise.

I could feel my heart racing in my throat and despite that I kept my cool. If he knew anything or seen right through me as he claims then he’d have more to say. Which means he’s playing a game.

“Find out sooner rather than later then.” I snapped, trying to sound unaffected. “It’s been almost two years.”

The words barely left my mouth before I felt the shift of energy in the room.

In one fluid motion, Nolan closed the distance between us, his hand shooting out to grab my arm with a grip that could break bones. He slammed me against the wall, the harshness of it making the air in my lungs seize. His hand was around my wrist, forcing my body into the cool surface of the nearest wall.

I looked up, eyes wide but unwilling to look away. His face was inches from mine now, his dark gaze searing through me, like he was stripping away every last layer of defense I had left.

“You’re too mouthy for your own good,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke, sending an electric shock down my spine. I can hear the hidden the promise of violence laying underneath his words. “That might work on everyone else… but not on me.”

I swallowed, trying to steady myself. 𝙄 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬. 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙣.

A flicker of amusement passed over his face before it was replaced with something colder, darker. “Though, I can see why my brother called you his ’favorite toy.’”

His words felt like a knife. He knew exactly what to say to wound me but his words didn’t cut as deep as he thought they would.

“Let go of me, Nolan, or I’ll scream. I don’t mind making a scene.” It was a threat that I was willing to fulfill. I had no intention of backing down, no matter how much my heart pounded in my chest.

Suddenly his hand slid to my palm. My scar was covered by my glove but it seemed like he knew it was there.

He wasted no time to press down on it, a jolt of pain shot through me, white-hot and searing. I gasped, my breath catching in my throat.

“Scream then.” he murmured, pressing harder, his fingers unrelenting. “Go ahead. Scream. See if it matters.”

The pain was unbearable but I kept my eyes locked on his. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I wouldn’t give him 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

He leaned in closer, the heat of his breath on my skin, his eyes burning into mine, like he was trying to claim me in some twisted, unspoken way.

For a moment, there was only the silence between us, thick and suffocating. Then he stepped back, releasing me with one last, lingering look. His gaze flickered to my wrist before meeting my eyes again dark and knowing.

“I’ll be seeing you again, Melina." he said, his tone more promise than threat and then as quickly as he had arrived— he was gone. was ready to leave, whatever consequences my father would throw at me later be damned. I was tired of being taken advantage of, of people acting like they could do whatever they wanted without consequence.

I glanced down, the blood seeping through my glove like some quiet betrayal. The pain finally found me, sharp and real. In the chaos of it all, Malakai’s name flickered in my mind, a ghostly tether, pulling me back from the edge. In some twisted way, he was the only thing left keeping me from shattering entirely. Why am I feeling like I need him right now?

[damnedmisery]

❦ 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆, 𝑩𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔 ❦

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅, 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑.

— 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝑷𝒐𝒆

The garden outside the museum was a quiet sanctuary, a tangled maze of ivy-clad stone and winding pathways. Flowers bloomed in vibrant hues, their fragrance heavy in the air. The kind of place that should have calmed the storm inside me, but instead, it only seemed to amplify the chaos of my thoughts, swirling like the mist gathering at the edges of the pond.

I walked slowly, heels clicking against the cobblestones, my mind far away. The last few days had been a blur of hospital rooms and questions, my body healing while my soul burned. The thought of revenge was all-consuming, like a fire that wouldn’t die. Despite the fury I carried, a strange kind of peace settled over me in the midst of the garden. It was a fleeting comfort, easily shattered, but it was all I had for now.

Suddenly there he was.

I had seen him before—just weeks ago before the accident. I was here in the same museum. He had been standing near his painting, a piece that had caught my attention for reasons I couldn’t explain. It was abstract, full of chaos and passion, the kind of raw emotion that made your chest tighten just to look at it. We had spoken, briefly, about the meaning of his work. His responses had been cold, uninterested, almost dismissive. His words were sharp and clipped as if he had better things to do than talk to me. Yet, despite the detachment in his tone, his presence had a weight to it, an intensity that lingered in the room long after he’d spoken. I told myself that we would never cross paths again— but here he was again.

I wasn’t sure whether the feeling in my chest was shock or something I couldn’t name. His tall frame stood just beneath the shade of an ancient oak, his hands casually shoved into the pockets of his pants, his gaze already fixed on me. The world seemed to blur around him and for a moment I forgot to breathe.

His eye met mine and I felt the familiar jolt, like electricity rushing through my veins. I shouldn’t feel like this. Not now when I had a mission. Revenge had consumed me and I couldn’t let him distract me from it.

Why does it feel like fate had carved our paths together once more?

“You’re a long way from the gallery.” he said, his voice a low rasp that somehow seemed to wrap around me.

I swallowed, trying to sound unaffected, to push the unease that stirred within me. “I didn’t expect to see you again” I said, though my voice was tight and betraying me. “I thought we were just two strangers passing through.”

His lips curled into a half-smile—a knowing smile, as if he could see through the walls I built around myself. “Seems fate has other plans.” he replied, stepping toward me slowly.

I tensed, every muscle in my body screaming for me to retreat, to keep my distance but something inside me, dark and primal, told me to stay and to fight it would only make it worse.

As he drew closer, I could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence pressing against me like the weight of a thousand unspoken words. I felt exposed, vulnerable—something I wasn’t accustomed to, especially not after everything I’d been through.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The words were meant to be dismissive, a way to keep him at arm’s length but instead they only seemed to draw him closer, like a moth to a flame.

He stopped just a few feet away, his eyes never leaving mine. “And yet, here I am.” His voice was like a velvet thread, pulling me in despite all my efforts to resist. “Tell me, Melina, what is it you’re really searching for out here?”

My heart skipped a beat. He remembered my name. Of course, he did. I was the stranger who had looked at his painting with the kind of intensity that had unsettled us both. I was the one who dared to ask questions no one else had.

But I couldn’t let myself get lost in him again.

“I’m not searching for anything.” I snapped, quickly pulling myself back to reality, to the mission I’d set for myself. Revenge. That was all that mattered. “And you shouldn’t waste your time with someone like me.”

His eyes softened just a fraction, as if he could see right through the walls I had built around my heart. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” he said, his voice laced with a quiet challenge. “You don’t really believe that we’re just strangers passing through, that we won’t cross paths again.”

My breath caught in my throat and I forced myself to look away, to ignore the way his words echoed in my mind. I wouldn’t let myself fall for this. Not now. Not when everything was on the line.

He reached out, his fingers brushing my wrist, sending a shockwave through my body. I should pull away. I should walk away.

His fingers traced the scar on my palm—still raw and angry red. My breath hitched. I hadn’t expected him to notice, let alone touch it. His gaze snapped from my hand to my eyes, the warmth in his expression darkening into something more possessive. His fingers curled, as if holding me there and his breath quickened with barely contained rage.

“What happened?” he growled, his voice low and tight. “Who did this to you?”

The rage in his eyes was suffocating, a force that made me want to shrink away. It wasn’t just concern—it was dark and possessive. Did it terrify me? I wondered. . . because no one cared about me this much and he barely knew me so why did he care?

I yanked my hand back. “It doesn’t matter! Let go of me.” I said, my voice cold and brittle. “It’s nothing you need to know.”

He didn’t move, his eyes still locked on mine, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give. I took a step back in hopes of breaking the connection between us.

Without waiting for him to respond, I turned and walked away, my heart pounding, my pulse still racing. I didn’t look back but I could feel the weight of his gaze on me.

There’s a magnetic pull between us and it’s one I don’t think I could escape. I walk away now but I know there’s a path that will lead me right back to him. My story with Malakai had only just begun.

[damnedmisery]

【•⊱ 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄, 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 •⊱】

𝗔 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗜 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁｡ 𝗔𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀, 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘁𝗵 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁｡ 𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗮 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗲｡

I'm told things can't make or break you, but fighting my traumas every day feels like it's breaking me with each breath, like the air is being knocked out of me.

I could feel my heart pounding rapidly, the sound echoing inside my ears. I envisioned the whole scene unfolding again, as if I were back in the car - the wind whipping my hair, the car jerking violently back and forth during the crash. My breathing grows heavier and heavier, as if my lungs are emptying of air. The glass of water in my hand slipped through my fingertips and crashed to the floor. “Ms.Levine, are you alright?” One of the maids asked as they rushed to my side to clean the mess. “I-I’m fine. It was just an accident.” I assured her as I hear a sudden ring at my door. “I’ll get it.” I assured her as I walked out of the kitchen.

It felt like forever but I was home. They finally released me from the hospital earlier than intended, but I managed to convince them I was well enough to return home. Finding out who did this to me was my sole focus, and I would do whatever it took to get answers, which is why I reached out to Jeremy. My best friend. He’s been there for me since we were kids. I haven't seen him in a long time, but despite drifting apart sometimes, we always reconnect exactly where we left off. I knew that if there was anyone I could trust to find out, it was him. He could move quietly without being noticed by the eyes that were on me.

As soon as I opened the door, he rushed in, taking gentle hold of my shoulders. The concern in his eyes made it clear he wasn't happy about what happened. “Mel, what the hell happened? Are you okay?” I knew he’d have these questions. I subtly winced and eased out of his grasp, trying not to reveal the extent of my pain. “I’m doing fine. Don’t be dramatic.” I tried to downplay it. Pretend I was fine even though I’m not. “I kept trying to see you, but your stepbrother kept sending messages through people telling me to fuck off.” I rolled my eyes, knowing that sounded exactly like something he would do. “I’m sorry about that. Had I known sooner I would’ve intervened. Does…does Yasmine know?” She'd undoubtedly cross my mind, and I sensed this was a lot for her to handle. “She does and she is devastated. You should give her a call later, Mel.” That will be my first priority once we address the purpose of his visit.

I escorted him upstairs to my room, ensuring a more private setting. I didn’t trust anyone around me anymore. “Jeremy, there’s a reason I called you here. The accident wasn’t an accident.” A fierce anger ignites in his eyes, signaling he will not respond well to this. “What the fuck do you mean it wasn’t an accident?” He asked, and I let out a momentary sigh before continuing, seated at the foot of my bed. “My breaks were cut. Someone did this and I need your expertise to figure out who did so I can deal with them.” I suspected it would be easy, that he would just do as I said, but I knew him better than that. “Mel, you've just gotten out of the hospital and you're not good at hiding your pain. I'll look into it and deal with it, but you need to get better. You can't handle anyone in this condition.” I knew he was right, but my stubbornness got in the way of hearing him out.

“𝗝𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗺𝘆, 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗜'𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴｡”

Darkness descended upon me, and anger pulsed through my veins, echoing in my bones. My heart was once pure, but agony has engulfed it. Something inside me has awakened. Was it the fire I needed all along? Jeremy was giving me a look of like he found me unrecognizable in this moment, and I anticipated him saying this wasn't like me, but what if it actually was?

“𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲｡ 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗲｡”

I never knew I'd have to harbor this kind of anger, that I'd actually want to inflict harm on anyone, but this life has truly made a monster out of me. Being in such pain and feeling so weak, undeservedly, only intensifies my anger and need for revenge.

I will make people learn that I was a force to be reckoned with, not a broken toy waiting to be fixed.

[damnedmisery]

【•⊱𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐘, 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅•⊱】

I was held captive, a willing prisoner of the gloom, addicted to its weight, to the darkness like a drug. It wrapped around me like a cold and familiar lullaby. When pain is all we know and there's no other way to cope, where do we go?

The haunting memories of my last moments with my mother kept replaying in my mind, with the sound of her screams still ringing in my ears. I longed to understand what transpired, only to be persuaded by my father that he was spearheading a private investigation and would eventually find out what happened. I shouldn't have trusted him or underestimated his wickedness, he's made his own steps in erasing every memory of her. Every year he’s removed a picture of her, even replacing the old family portrait with our “new family.”

My mother was the sole person in my life who never hurt me, yet now she's gone, and I'm forced to face my father's cruelty alone, happiness will elude me as long as he remains in control. I have nothing, and I'm foolish to think there's a way out. I fight so hard, but what's the point in fighting at all? When you feel alone like you have no one. I've learned that in this life, the more you give, the more people will take without giving anything in return.

This pain is like a siren in my bones that I can no longer bear.

My gaze falls on the steering wheel, and the haze of intoxication settles in. I wish to erase my woes, but sadly, no respite exists for this suffering. I pick up the vodka bottle, dismayed by its low content. I redirect my focus to the now-green traffic light ahead.

I fight so hard, but what's the point in fighting at all?

I steadily intensify the pressure on the gas pedal. The swift flow of wind through my hair brings an intense feeling of release. In this fleeting moment, thoughts poison my mind about letting it all end here. Nothing numbs the pain, but this rush I'm feeling temporarily soothes it.

My phone rings, I feel around the passenger seat until I find it and then I swiftly answer it. My biggest regret once I hear Malik on the other end. I could also hear the sound of his horn beeping from behind me. “What the fuck are you thinking, Melina? I’m right behind you! Stop right now!”

I couldn't stand hearing the distress in his voice, as if he actually cared about me. Last we talked about my mother he compared my grief to crying over spilled milk. The person I least desired to hear from right now was him, and to make matters worse, he's now tailing me. “Go back to the party, Malik! Be their golden boy!”

I snapped at him, hopefully that's enough of a hint, but knowing Malik, I doubt he'll give up easily. “You’re just drunk, Melina! Fucking stop right now before you get yourself hurt!” Is the risk of additional harm substantial when I'm already in pain?

The more he makes demands, the more I want to defy him and do as I please. “I know what I’m doing! What the hell makes you think you can tell me what to do?” I am tempted to bring the car to a stop and express my annoyance with his arrogance.

As a matter of fact— I will.

I press my foot down on the brake, yet the car fails to stop. That’s not odd right? I attempt to remain calm, pressing down repeatedly, but still the car doesn't stop. “Malik! It’s not stopping! I’m trying but it’s not stopping!” My heart feels as though it’s plummeting into my stomach. The fear takes hold, I’m starting to feel a little helpless and Malik is my only option but all I can do is call out to him but what can he do to help with this car moving 100 miles per hour? “What do you mean it won’t stop, Melina?” His voice cracked with panic as he spoke, betraying his composure. “The break! It’s not working! I can’t get the car to stop!” With tears flowing down my cheeks, I continued to try and stop the car, but it failed to respond. The excessive speed hindered my ability to see where I was headed.

“Don’t give up! Keep trying it! Melina, I can’t lose you!“

The car slammed into something just after I heard those words, sending it spinning out of control. My body jerks left, right , back and forth. Reminds me of a bad carnival ride that’s malfunctioning.

If this is my final chapter— I guess I can’t say I’m surprised to meet such a tragic end. I never thought about dying before, but I can’t say that I’m afraid. I find solace in the thought that my mother will be there to greet me, enveloping me in her warmth and soothing my pain with a single, radiant smile. A realm where all the pain and suffering ceases doesn’t sound so bad. There’s a sudden dizziness coming over me before my forehead struck the steering wheel, rendering me unconscious.

I felt my heart sink in this ocean..so deep

I thought..how I'd love to take just a leap

To flee far away, in the place where pain ceases.

My eyes slowly flicker open, waking to a harsh overhead light and an irritating beep resonating in my ears. As I shift, I become aware of my attachment to IV’s. The spreading soreness throughout my body was unmistakable, probably best I move cautiously or not at all. A hand wraps over mine, and I realize Malik is directly at my bedside. Coming from him, this was unexpected. I initially wanted to pull away, yet a part of me didn't. Deep down I knew I needed him.

I glance away from him, seeking my father, but the only ones outside the room are two men in black, clearly security, but what's their purpose? I could have died, and my father wasn't even here. If he had just pretended to care about me, now would have been the time, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

What happened still remains fuzzy for now, and I'm conflicted about whether to feel grateful for being alive or disappointed that I survived. I turned my attention back to Malik and the worry washing over his expression caught me off guard. I was anticipating one of his usual snarky remarks, but his eyes told a different story.

“I..—“ Before I could utter a word, one of the guards entered, directing their gaze towards Malik. “Oh, I can tell you later. Didn’t know she was awake.” Malik shook his head, moving away from my bedside “Tell me now.” He made his demand, and the guard looked from him to me and then back to him.

“As requested, the car was investigated and it was confirmed that the brakes had been cut.”

An awful feeling washes over me, and my heart sinks upon hearing the news. This confirms that what happened to me was intentional, and I fell right into the trap. Why was I so stupid? How could I have failed to see this coming? I have no one to blame but myself.

Who would want me dead is a mystery, but I won't rest until I figure it out.

[damnedmisery]

【•⊱

𝐂 𝐔 𝐑 𝐒 𝐄 𝐒 & 𝐀 𝐍 𝐆 𝐔 𝐈 𝐒 𝐇 •⊱】

The rhythm of shared silence engulfs me, a drumbeat in the abyss, an empathetic cadence. Healing design emerges through the kaleidoscope of our scars, a pattern woven from shared suffering's threads. We sit in the quiet before the storm, I'd said my piece and braced for chaos. It feels like my claws had grown just for this moment, and I was ready to fight.

The silence in the room was broken by Nicholas's grandfather clearing his throat. He was the eldest of the Agosti family. I remember Nicholas telling me how much adoration he had for him. How he was respected but also feared by many. I’m hoping whatever he says eases the tension in the room. “Mr. Levine, a muzzle is all you need for a mouthy bitch.” I wasn’t expecting that. His words struck me with the sharpness of a blade. They also struck a chord in Malik. “Watch your tongue or you won’t fucking have one!” I was taken aback by him defending me, he is nothing but cruel towards me. One minute he hates me, and the next, he is protecting me. It’s a real mind fuck. “If you can't keep your own in line, how can I trust our future?” He seemed unfazed by Malik’s threat. I gaze at him in disgust, is this truly the person Nicholas was so eager to follow? Someone who speaks down on women this way and refers to them as dogs.

𝙈𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘!

As I reflected on Malik's words, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a side of Nicholas I was unaware of. Was my love for him so blind that I failed to see him for who he truly was? That he was just like the men I despise.

I swallow the lump in my throat. This dinner was surely a tough pill to get down. I looked at my father, wondering if he would correct Mr.Agosti for what he said. Considering his wife, Lillian, was also present at the table and I might not like her but she still deserves some respect.

With zero patience and faith in my father, I couldn't care less about whatever else he had to say. I left the table, bringing my wine glass with me.

Leaving them to their miserable dinner, I walk out to get some air. I pass the living area where I catch a glimpse of the wall of family pictures. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, I come here to find solace with my mom, Amelia Levine, my anchor through it all. These pictures were the sole reminder that she existed and that I wasn't always shrouded in this darkness. I lost my mother when I was twelve but it still feels like yesterday. Somehow I managed to make it to twenty without her. Her smile so beautiful and bright in these photos it almost helps erase the final tainted memory I had of her.

F L A S H B A C K

I remember I was just a little girl being abruptly awoken from my slumber by the sound of breaking glass and my mother's shouting. Disoriented and confused, I struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦!

I climbed out of bed and headed towards the door when my mother pushed it open. The front of her nightgown stained in blood. I was about to say something but she silenced me with her hand on my cheek. Her shaking revealed her fear and pain.

“𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘢. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦… 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥?”

With her bleeding out like this in front of me, I couldn't possibly bring myself to take her orders. “What’s going on mom? Why are you bleeding?” I asked her. I was afraid, tears clouding my vision. The blood soaking through her nightgown is too traumatizing for me to withstand. She takes my hand and tries to give me some comforting words

“ 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

𝘐…𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘓𝘦𝘯𝘢. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦.”

She gently withdrew her hand from mine and exited my room, softly closing the door behind her. It wasn’t long before her screams echoed down the hall, interspersed with the dull thuds of blows against the wall. I was trapped, unable to act, and I listened to her pain-filled cries until the very end, my tears flowing endlessly.

I wished it all was a nightmare, and I could just open my eyes to find life simple again. I stand here staring at her photo, looking at her smile but being haunted by the sound of her screams. They drown out everything else around me.

I keep watching those I love meet tragic ends, sometimes it makes me wonder if my love is the reason for it. That I am every bit of the curse that tainted my mother first and then Nicholas. I just couldn't see it any other way.

My heart races, and I struggle to draw a breath. I’m on the verge of a panic attack and I’m trying to ground myself but I can’t. The glass of wine slips from my grasp, shattering on the marble floor. The sound echoes the turmoil of her struggles. What I heard as she fought.

I’ll 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 forget it.

[damnedmisery]

【•⊱ 𝐌 𝐈 𝐒 𝐄 𝐑 𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 •⊱】

Losing someone I love feels like slow suffocation, each moment feeling like the air is being drained from my lungs.

There is only one question that keeps crossing my mind. Nicholas. . .

How can I survive without you? Breathing is impossible without you. When will this charade I maintain falter? I’m unable to endure my father's tarnishing of your memory. I don’t think I can bite my tongue much longer.

The sound of Malik's (@/AtroceBlasonate) voice jolts me back to the distressing reality where my father was choking me, and Malik had to intervene. He left like it was nothing, but his touch still sears my skin.

“Melina, are you okay?”

Malik extends his hand to console me, but I brush it off, angry at his display of pity. I think it was unnecessary, and I didn't need his sympathy.

“Don’t! Stop acting like you care when you just stand by and watch him do it!” I started to storm away from him but he grabbed my forearm to halt my departure, and I'm now tugging away futilely. “I watched him do it?!” If I'm not mistaken, he seemed offended by my choice of words. “He let go of you because of me, and you don't even want to know what I would have done if he hadn't!”

I could see it in his eyes that he meant it, but my own rage blinded me and led me to have a spiteful tongue. “Should I want to know what you would've done before or after being his good dog for treats?” There is nothing we enjoyed more than getting under one another’s skin at the worst time. “I mean…I am his blood, and you can see how he treats me. Imagine how he will treat you, and you're not even his son. Will your pathetic mother care enough to stop him or will she turn a blind eye to another shopping spree at your expense?” Despite my attempt to provoke him, he remained unfazed and responded by laughing and then placing his hand on his chest in a mock gesture of injury. “Oh, peach. Your age is no longer compatible with these childish tantrums.” He finally released his grip on my arm and headed towards the door, but I could tell he had one last thing to say before leaving. I have a feeling this will be Malik's grand finale.

“𝙈𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘!Nicholas exploited your emptiness and desperation, using false affection to hide his true intentions.”

A heavy silence descended after his words, leaving my heart dropping inside my stomach.

This wouldn't be the first time I heard someone try to destroy his character and make me question everything we were. Malik aim was to hurt me and I’d be lying if I said he didn’t. How could I even respond to that? It's clear that I've lost this battle. I feel cursed with this family. If I could trade my life with anyone I would because this is not a life worth fighting for. “I’d watch myself if I were you because you know me. I don’t give a fuck, peach.“ his final words before he exited the room and left me to my emotions. I bet he’s hoping I choke on them. This entire family seems to gain some kind of weird fucked up confidence by kicking me down. My father wants me to walk out this room and pretend like I didn’t watch the love of my life die right before my eyes. What do I gain from following his rules if not more disrespect?

He desires to see me weak, pathetic, and compliant, but I refuse to succumb to either. Something within me is slowly emerging, despite my fears. It's time I unleash it and let it raise hell. If tonight means everything to my father then I will do everything in my power to destroy it.

I took one final look in the mirror, admiring my flawless reflection, before leaving the room and heading downstairs to the dinner. The silence was deafening, with my heels clicking on the marble floor, drawing attention to the somber atmosphere. The sadness etched on everyone's faces is unmistakable, making it clear that being here under these circumstances is sheer torture. I sit down at the table, opposite Nicholas's older brother Nolan, who looks up at me with a glare, clearly displeased by me being last at the table. The nerve of him and his family to look at me this way as if they have nothing to be ashamed of. Using Nicholas name as a way to start a treaty and discuss business moving forward. We are all guilty of something, aren’t we?

“Forgive my daughter. She doesn’t take this easy but she’s sincerely sorry.” My father attempted to ease the tension, but I wasn't going to let him off easy. “You don’t speak for me.” I said, reaching for the glass of wine in front of me. Nolan glances at my father then back at me, and I can already tell he doesn't have anything pleasant to say. “Nicholas was my brother, and we are not taking this easy. Despite our grief, we managed to be on time. Nicholas deserves some fucking respect.” That was one thing we could agree on. Nicholas deserves respect. However, I was done holding my tongue and taking everyone’s shit. I rolled over time and again, silencing my thoughts to not shake everyone's world, but they lived in a bubble that I had to pop, starting with my father.

“Then why are you at this fucking table?” I looked around, unable to bear their sorrowful expressions. I recognize they're in agony, but could they imagine how I felt? I watched him die! Am I in so much pain that I'm losing it, or is everyone else being inconsiderate?

“Your families hatred towards my family is the same hatred that was birthed in him and he died with it in his bones. He’s probably rolling in his grave.” My final words were as good as a match to a fire, but only silence followed. How it should’ve been if Nolan and my father just let things be.

I turn towards Malik, whose lips curl into a half smirk as if he's proud of me. I'm irritated that I seek his validation when he's also caused my anger. He made me feel stronger and more secure in my actions, even if I was also wrong it didn’t matter.

As for my father. I knew this wouldn’t be the end of this.

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to be continued

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