→SWEET SĪN←
Sweet Sin – Chapter 87&88
→ Corrupt•Me, Father ←
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All rights reserved.
This is a strictly signed book❗No part of this publication may be copied or reposted without a prior written permission from ME.
Copyright © 2026
By Naomi Cindy B.
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★
Another clash of thunder boomed mightily in the skies, slicing lightning across the dark clouds and casting a brief—almost mysterious glow on the Oddsion.
Migos’s body stayed down, dead with the empty chest. His heart stayed clutched in the middle of Tobias’s hand, and his eyes stared down at the body with no sympathy or empathy.
He even looks like he wants to disembowel him too cast his carcass to the skies for the bird and scatter his fresh flesh for Grimm.
The rain even girl heavier, thrumming against the polished ground and sending splashes up.
The maids who’re in the Oddsion are all staring out through the hidden windows of the top floor. Two of them passed out on the floor already, spooked and freaked by the scene they had witnessed.
The rest of them watched with shaking bodies, clashing teeth, and dried throat. Their mop sticks and cleaning napkins turned hot in their sweaty palms, and they just knew they have entered something risky.
It’s not every night you get to see a man dig out another man’s heart with his barehand.
Tobias threw the heart on the ground, and Grimm appeared from nowhere, taking it, to it’s mouth.
As the dog chewed, Estelle held her chest. She couldn’t stop the vomit from forming. It rushed out.
Jude crouched beside her, and as she vomited, he rubbed her back.
“You’ll get used to it. I vomited during my first experience too.”
“Burn his body, and pour his ashes into a bowl of acid.” Tobias said, voice a calm rumble.
“I got it, Wrath.” Yalda nodded.
Tobias returned inside, and the gathering of Odds finally moved, closer to the body on the ground.
“I always knew it was more than just dedication. I knew he was gay.”
“Shit, tell me a more horrible death than this, there’s none.”
“He’s so fuckin unfortunate.”
“I bet he’s laughing in hell right now for getting killed by the man he loved, crazy thing.”
Yalda squatted beside the body, sighing. She touched his blood with her middle finger, then brought it to her lips to lick.
Every other Odd did the same.
They crouched, and had a lick of his blood before the body was carried away to the incineration room.
“I didn’t expect Firstie to kill him like this though, considering the fact that he was the closest to him.”
“Wrath tried to warn Migos too many times, Jude.” Yalda faced him. “Even before we reappeared in this city, Wrath has always been warning and warning and fuckin warning about Migos’s obsession, but he was an asshole who’d never hear!”
“Firstie knew about his obsession?” Jude frowned surprisingly.
“He’s not blind, Jude,” Yalda rolled eyes. “At first, he was being too appreciative to Wrath, and I thought it was a brotherly shit, but yesterday during the call with Wrath in the yacht, I saw him…” She demonstrated. “In his room, he was giving himself a hand job while listening to Tobias’s voice.”
“What!” Jude gasped.
“So I followed him secretly and kept an eye on Seraphina too, as if I knew he’d try to lie on her.” Yalda said.
“That’s fucked up,” Jude sighed.
“At least, he got to meet his replacement before he died…” Yalda looked at him meaningfully.
Jude looked away.
“I feel a little bad for him though.”
“You’re human, Jude, so I feel you…” Yalda nodded.
“And there’ll be no funeral for him?” Estelle came closer.
“You heard when Wrath said he should be burned and tossed into the acid tank.” Yalda provided. “When we lost two of us in two different missions years ago, we mourned them for days, and Wrath made sure their families never suffered till now, but Migos? No. Migos crossed the line too much, and he doesn’t deserve it.”
“Oh…” Estelle swallowed.
“You better clean up your vomit, Estelle,” Yalda advised.
“Of course I will!” Estelle quickly nodded. “I know he hates dirt.”
“Cool, and you did well with police department bugging. Wrath won’t tell you that, but I’ll tell you for free.”
“Thank you, Yalda.” Estelle smiled.
Yalda returned inside her car and drove out.
Estelle looked at the ground that’s still slightly stained with blood.
“I badly hope I don’t fû+k up one day, I don’t want to die by his hands.” She said fearfully.
Jude looked at her.
“You’re too desperate to f+k up, Estelle. You won’t.”
Estelle pulled out her dinging phone, and after the screen swipe, her eyes lit up differently.
It’s a credit alert.
She turned her phone screen to Jude dramatically.
“How many zeros, from who?” She asked, whispering.
“250k, from Wrath Savings?” Jude read out easily.
“Wait…I just planted evidence at the station, and I get 250? What the f+k!” She shouted, excited.
“Top Odds like Yalda get times five or six of that for a single mission, Estelle.” Jude said. “Just be good, and you’ll get paid good, too.”
“This is exactly where I wanna be!” Estelle shouted, crying. “I swear I haven’t had 100k at once in my account before. I’m so fuckin…”
“Yeah, have fun till the next mission,” Jude smiled and left.
“Yes!!” Estelle jumped again.
—
The cleaning maids had to face the wall when Tobias was walking past with the rainwater dripping off him. Some of them pretended to be cleaning the places they’ve already cleaned multiple times, and some of them cleaned the floor after him as he took each slow step.
They lost sight of him when he entered his floor, using the rotating lift which spat him out on top.
He used the door blow-dryer, getting dry before entering his room. He stripped down and entered his king-size bathroom, getting under the already running shower.
There, he drowned himself in the rumination sea, swaying with the currents as the shower bathed him.
He scrubbed with the soft sponge, but the softness felt nonexistent tonight as he was scrubbing too hard, his skin reddened, even every part of the face switched shades from porcelain white to red like tomatoes.
Also, the water isn’t cold. It’s in-between warm and hot, burning his skin and hurting him.
He only scrubbed harder, thinking back to when he saw the video Migos showed him, and how he lost his mind but had to pretend he was ok by returning the phone to Migos.
Then she appeared, carrying that neck that has been kissed by Vince, and his head shattered.
Every humane feel in him disappeared, and he not only wanted to kill Vince and eat his flesh, but he wanted to take her far away and lock her up with himself in an eternal bathroom where he’d wash her neck till the kiss flooded off her skin.
He talked to her without his feelings, and she returned it in the same vein, then he made the mistake of pulling that damn trigger on her, again.
First time he pulled the trigger on her was at his Rectory when she analyzed him after she treated his gunshot wound, and he had sworn with his every being that he’d never try it again, but he did anyways.
He pulled the trigger on her again.
And she left in the rain. She was wet, too. He let the rain drench her.
What if she gets cold?
What if she gets infection from the rainwater?
What if she gets feverish?
He pressed the sponge harder to his skin, scrubbing, washing like he’s going to peel off that skin.
At a point, he switched to scrubbing his hand. That hand that pulled the trigger at her, that damn right hand.
He scrubbed till he bled on the knuckles, but he didn’t stop.
His knuckles peeled more.
More blood. More lather.
He dropped the sponge after he nearly peeled off half his knuckles.
He raised the hands to his hair, sweeping the wet threads back as he shot his face up to the shower head.
What the f+k is happening to him?
Why the hell is he feeling this ache? This pain? This way?
—
[Allison’s Mansion]
Allison was cackling cheerfully as she escorted Acosta out if the house. Her burgundy hair danced with the air, and her laughter resonated.
“Seriously? You called me Rasheeda! Rasheeda, dude!” She stopped.
“That was because Peach was there, Allison.” He held her hands, but she quickly disengaged from him.
“Peach might look bratty and spoilt and rude, but she fears my separation with Kimmy a lot, and if she sights any hitch, she’d go ahead and report to Kimmy, and she’ll get hurt herself too. I don’t want Peach to get hurt, Allison.”
“You’re stylishly telling me you’re planning to stay in the marriage with Kimmy Redd forever?” Allison crossed her arms.
“No, no way!” He held her hands again. “I’m just saying… I’ll do it with brains if I wanna do it. I’ll run that family to the ground before I’ll take my daughter and leave the country with her and whoever my new woman would be.”
Again, Allison removed her hands from his hold.
“Be careful,” she warned. “My house is in a public street, and anyone could see us.”
“Told you I always switch off my location before coming here, there’s no Kimmy.” He frowned.
“This ain’t about Kimmy, Acosta…” She turned serious. “I still have my dignity, and I wouldn’t fool around with a married man no matter how bad his wife is.”
“Allison….” He sounded weak.
“Rasheeda, I prefer that.” She blinked.
“I’ve said I’m sorry for calling you Rasheeda for like ten times now.” He laughed shortly.
“Well, I gold grudges.” She shrugged.
“I see,” he smiled, eyes catching the new car at the park.
It’s a really chic, classy, blue BMW.
“You got a new whip!”
“Nah, it belongs to Phina. That’s Phina’s new car!” She announced.
“Wow!” He chuckled. “Wow! Congratulations to her, and she deserves it and more. I mean…she’s a celebrity now, and—”
And that was cut short when Seraphina drove back into the mansion in Allison’s sports car.
Acosta quickly got back in his car and drove out.
Seraphina stepped out of her car, and Allison jumped excitedly.
“Babe! Your car is here! The company delivered it themselves and even sent flowers for you! My celebrity girlfriend!” She laughed. “And your new house is ready for you! We can go for a tour around it tommorow before you move in, and guess what? It’s in a new classy estate, and you’ll be the first one to arrive there wh—”
Allison’s talkativeness stopped when Seraphina walked right into her, hugging her tight.
“Babe,…” Allison immediately hugged her back, realizing she’s not ok. “Talk to me, ok? Tell me.”
“He shot at me. He tried to kill me.” Seraphina added.
“What!” Allison broke the hug.
“He found out about my meet with Vince, and I don’t understand if he didn’t witness it all, but he mentioned the hug part and then we bantered in the rain, then he shot at me…” Seraphina pointed at the car window.
The shattered part.
“It’s fuckin real…” Allison muttered, shocked. “When you said you wanted to go make peace with him after we left Vince, I expected it to go smooth, but he… tried to kill you?”
Yalda’s car zoomed inside, her headlights still on as she jumped out of the breathing car.
“If he wanted to kill you, Seraphina, you wouldn’t escape the bullet.” She said. “I’ve been working with him for eight years, and he has never missed a shot no matter how sick and unfocused he was. If he really wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be here by now. You’d be dead.”
“You’re saying he intentionally missed his shot at her?” Allison scoffed. “But he still shot at her! He still pulled the trigger.”
“He didn’t shoot to kill her.” Yalda insisted coldly.
“Wait, who are you?” Allison asked.
“Did he send you here to say this?” Seraphina talked.
“He wouldn’t send me on errands like this. I handle guns, Seraphina, not relationships, but he’s like a father to me, and I can’t just watch it all fall apart. Migos showed him a half video of you hugging Vince, so he lost control and—”
“Why would he lose control when I mean nothing to him beyond the deal we’re on?” Seraphina asked.
“Don’t be silly,” Yalda tightly said. “Deal? And you entered his room? No one,not Saint his brother, not Migos or me or any of the Odds entered his room before, but you did. You even used his bathroom, Seraphina. You visited his private island, and I swear on my soul, I haven’t entered the island before, I’ve only stood on the dork and waters.”
Seraphina went silent.
Allison went silent too.
Yalda took a step back.
“He killed Migos though.”
“Seraphina moved…”He…did?”
Yalda nodded and drove off as fast as she drove in.
“Who’s she?” Allison asked.
“She’s a top part of his cult.” Seraphina responded.
“Is he suffering from OCD?” Allison asked. “I mean…him?”
“You deducted that from what Yalda said?” Seraphina asked.
“Who else wouldn’t allow people into his bedroom or bathroom or island, Phina. OCD patients set insane boundaries the most.” Allison said.
Seraphina leaned on the car.
“So…what are you gonna do?” Allison asked with concern.
“I don’t know, Lis.” She shook her head.
—
[Graves Memorial Estates]
“I wanna race!!!!” Saint’s voice echoed around the estates, reverberating and loud.
In the dark rainy night, he stood on top of a tombstone in the public graveyard for middle-class, raising his two hands high dramatically.
“F+k…this is punishment. I don’t wanna be a CEO…” He shed fake tears and wiped them immediately. “I’ve been here all day, guiding dead bodies in and out, chilling with the dead when I should be on the road, racing. I didn’t sign up for this.”
He jumped to another tombstone, turning around.
The masked workers around him just kept their professionalism up. Laughing would be disrespectful no matter how funny he acts.
“Ten dead bodies, only today, ten! How frequent do people die in this effing world?” He shouted again.
“No punishment can be greater than this CEO shit, Toby. I hate staying in one place!!” He yelled.
He jumped off the tombstone and sighed. “I even had to call Dean and brag with lies when I’m not even enjoying shit. This is a cage, Toby.”
“You’re very interesting to watch, Saint.” A voice of mockery came to life behind him.
He turned back, and there she was, holding a small package and helmet.
Bexley.
“Vexley?” He blinked.
Paint,” she returned the gesture.
“Bexley!” He went closer, surprised. “How were you even able to enter this property?”
“I merely showed them this?” She raised his bike helmet. “You forgot it at my place, and I was allowed inside this place immediately I showed it to the gate side staffs.”
“Smart,” he smiled.
“You have so many weird habits, so apart from eating raw noodles and carrots and onions, you also talk to yourself?” She smirked.
“Oh, you’re about to find out more,” he smirked back, taking his helmet from her with a snatch. “And what the f+k is in your package?”
“You treated my wounds with your illegal trauma kit, and now I’m better, the wounds don’t hurt that much, so I thought of cooking something for you to appreciate.” She shrugged.
“Look at you being cute!” He laughed as he took the package from her, opening it with a grin.
The grin disappeared immediately he saw what was inside though.
Hotdogs, hamburgers, and sandwiches.
“What’s this? You bought these, poured them in a food warmer and brought them to me, telling me you cooked?” He scoffed.
“I didn’t buy shit, Saint. I made them myself cos I watched some online videos!” She glared.
“They’re snacks, Vexley! Snacks!” He shouted suddenly.
“You expect me to actually cook full meal for you?” She laughed.
“No, you can’t, cos you can’t cook. I get you.” He took one hamburger and took a full-mouthed bite as he marched to his office.
“I can cook, motherfucker. My sister Allison is a really good chef, and I learnt a lot from her. I can cook.”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night…” He shrugged.
Bexley stopped following him. She brought out her phone as it made a sound. It’s the ‘Fun Hour’ notification at the Club, meaning the other Delilahs would be dancing and making money now, but here she is, following a sick boy around.
She clicked camera and quickly snapped a picture of Saint’s back view and another picture of the graveyard. She posted with the caption: In the yard with Saint.
She heard Dora is unconscious, though she has no idea what made her unconscious.
She’s gonna keep posting these type of updates with Saint, so when Dora wakes up and sees them, she can fall unconscious again and go comatose.
She smiled in a conniving mood after posting, and the comments began rushing in fast…
SS TOOK YOU TO HIS FAMILY BUSINESS?
OMG, YOU’RE SO LUCKY!
I’D OFFER FOR HIM TO F+K ME ON A GRAVE IF I SERE YOU. HEARD THEY LIKE SICK THINGS IN THAT FAMILY.
Bexley shook her head.
“Sickasses.”
She proceeded to Saint’s office and met him seated, munching the food she brought, but a bundle of dollars sat on the table, prettily.
“You can have it,” he pointed at the bundle. “At least you made an effort to make the hamburgers and shit, so have the money.”
“You’re a spender, I like that.” She sat in front of him, taking the bundle without waiting for another minute.
Saint looked at her,but he said nothing before returning to his food.
Bexley rubbed the money, smiling.
It’s working.
Her money machine is already spitting the dollars, and it’s only the start of her using him.
Meanwhile, outside the gates of the memorial estates, Tino’s car sat on the tar, and Tino sat inside, looking drunk cos he’s actually drunk.
He swung by a bar before coming here, and he saw Bexley going in.
He has been sitting here in his car since then, just staring at the gate.
He picked up his phone, checking the message he received from Xero…
Xero: Son, have you thought about what I told you?
He dropped the phone and decided it was time to leave.
He drove down the road, rolling his car out of that street.
And immediately he did, another car crossed him. Mrs. Hallows jumped out, practically.
“Shit,” Tino murmured, getting out of his own car too.
“Where have you been, Valentino?” The woman queried, close to tears. “You’re never at your place, and you’ve not been picking my calls! You’ve been avoiding me!”
“Cos you lied to me!!” He yelled, pouring his frustrations on her.
“What do you mean?” Her brows knotted.
“My father was never dead, mum. He’s still very much alive, and I know who he is!” He confessed.
Mrs. Hallows gasped.
“Tino, no…”
“Xero, Isn’t he?” He smirked.
Mrs. Hallows froze.
—
[Valhalla Club]
The Fun Hour ended in ten minutes, shorter tonight cos of the many issues on ground, and cos of the new member on seat.
Xero removed his mask, letting Dean have a look at his face as he took his seat at the top pinnacle.
Dean looked at him with secret hatred. He’s the one who ordered him to cancel the lust sin and not go after Seraphina anymore.
Meaning, he’s got his eyes on her too, and his sole purpose of joining this club is to kill him.
He’s going to kill Xero.
“You acquired your billionaire status before joining this club, Dean, but a little bit more stretch of money isn’t a bad idea, is it?” Xero said.
Dean raised his glass.
“And I checked your portfolio. You haven’t met the President of Greece before, so we’ll start from there. How about a meeting with him next week? I’ll set the meeting, and you can start thinking of getting your new subsidiary opened there.” Xero proposed clearly.
“And…” Dean dropped his glass. “I’d be a fool to say no.”
Xero smiled trickily.
“And maybe someday, I might buy shares in your company.” He said.
Dean looked at him, smiling still.
Xero is too transparent his intentions are unhidden.
“Of course, I’d gladly sell.” He nodded easily, relaxing.
“I don’t think it’s the right time to propose an expansion for Dean now, considering the fact that Dora is currently on a sickbed cos of what his brother did to her!” Marley said.
“Which of my brothers? Be specific.” Dean glared.
“Your racer younger brother…” Genevieve calmly said.
“Saint?” Dean nodded. “Saint likes to act out and do stuffs with girls. They were probably playing around.”
“Playing around by beating her with a golf stick?” Marley barked.
“And why the f+k am I the one getting questioned here?” Dean shook his head. “I’m still under crisis for the investigation my company is under!”
“Oh stop that, Dean. We all know you already buried the case, and that’s why you’re here, calm!” Genevieve bit out angrily.
“So go to Saint and throw the accusations at his face, not me!” Dean shouted, pissed.
Genevieve and Marley stood.
“You mean…you don’t care even if he’s dead?” Marley smiled.
“Do I look like it?” Dean scoffed. “If I cared about family blood, I wouldn’t be here at all.”
“Great.” Genevieve nodded.
“And if I may ask,” Dean stood too. “Your hatred sin, did you use Seraphina for it? Is that why you hate her to the core?”
“What!” Marley’s voice went down
“She’s your child, so it’s very obvious you used her for that sin, and who dud you both kill for the murder sin? Who was it? I’m suddenly interested.” Dean got top serious.
The other billionaires just sat and watched the new show without interfering. Even Xero refused to interfere. He just like one of the members and enjoyed it.
“Yes, Seraphina is the unfortunate scapegoat for the hate sin…” Marley nodded. “Now, what do you have to tell me, Dean St. Graves?”
“He’s probably here to fight for her…” Genevieve laughed loud. “Told Kelly she would regret that marriage, and it’s true. Look at her darling husband fighting for another woman.”
“This new hobby of poking your nose into our family affairs that you picked wouldn’t benefit you, Dean.” Marley stepped close. “In here, billionaires are allowed to kill billionaires cos there’s no rule bounding lives. Careful, Dean. Let me focus on killing your brother, don’t add yourself to the list.”
Dean smiled, nodding.
“You know nothing, Marley.”
—
[Next Morning – Dean’s Estate]
The house would have been silent if Kelly wasn’t blending fruits for herself in the kitchen.
Maids are available to do it, but she just prefers herself as the maker of her morning fruit juice.
She kept checking her ring out every minute, still not believing she’s actually married to Dean.
She’s actually a married woman.
Their love since six years ago yielded well, and now it bloomed forever.
She was already regretting choosing Dean, but now she knows it’s not a mistake. They were meant to be.
She lifted the juice to her lips, but then she felt a sudden wetness in her core. This ain’t about wet for sex or overstimulation.
She rushed upstairs, entered her room and lowered her pants.
Blood.
Her period.
Her eyes widened.
Why the f+k is it here again?
Last month, she smashed raw with Dean again. Why is she still menstruating? Why is pregnancy not coming? That wasn’t even the last time she smashed raw and took the release. She has been trying it since last year, but it has been failing.
Is she really ok health-wise?
Why isn’t she carrying Dean’s child yet? Does she need to go for checkup?
She cleaned up and dressed back up, rushing out to meet Dean coming out of his room.
“Hubby, I think something is—”
“The cops called, Kelly,” he cut in restlessly. “New evidence found in the station. Evidence of bribery from me to the police department, and it’s out everywhere in the news.”
“The f+k?” Kelly’s shoulders sank.
—
[Vince’s Crib]
This hideout is an abandoned bakehouse, another one of Vince’s countless rotting nests scattered across the city.
The walls still reek of flour, burnt crust, and stale yeast, but the smell means nothing.
His men dragged him here straight from the pub after the stabbing from Seraphina. No ambulance or hospital.
Vince would rather bleed into the floorboards than let his name appear on a medical record.
Now, he’s awake.
Lying flat on his stomach across a narrow bed in the cramped room, he wore the grin of a man in paradise.
He looks half-dead with skin drained of color, lips dry, eyes fever-bright with the kind of madness that no doctor could diagnose.
His broad back is a map of old scars laying beneath thick spread of blood-soaked dressings plastered over his fresh stab wound.
The door creaked open, and one of his men stepped in carrying a bottle of gin.
Without even bothering to sit up, Vince snatched it, uncorked it with his teeth, and swallowed mouthful after mouthful.
The liquor burned down his throat, and his smile widened.
“I still don’t understand why you let her walk away after she buried a knife in your back,” one of the men muttered.
Vince laughed softly. “She stabbed me.” Another laugh. “She…stabbed me.” His pupils trembled. “Do you know what that means?”
Nobody answered.
“It means I still exist inside her head.” His voice dropped to an almost affectionate whisper. “People don’t stab strangers like that. They stab people they can’t stop thinking about. She chose me.”
He shut his eyes as though replaying the moment. “The way she drove the blade in, there was feeling behind it.”
“But—” one of his men tried to go against his words.
“I said…” Vince’s voice exploded, “She. Stabbed. Me!!!”
He lurched off the bed before anyone could stop him, and agony ripped through his body.
His spine twisted violently, more blood and pain exploded through his back stab wound.
A strangled groan burst from his throat. “Nghh…damn!”
He caught himself against the wall, refusing every hand of his men that reached for him.
More blood blossomed through the fresh bandages and soaked the waistband of his trousers, dripping onto the wooden floor.
“Look at that,” he whispered. “She stabbed me exactly as deeply as she loves me.”
He ran shaking fingers over the blood leaking through the bandages.
“I kept waiting for her to send me a sign, and she finally did with this stab. She’s forgiven me, and she’s ready to come home. It’s time for me to reclaim my throne and put my queen back where she belongs.”
No one dared respond as the room had become too quiet, then his phone rang. He answered immediately.
“Yes?”
The police voice on the other end was rushed and panicky.
“A new piece of evidence appeared in the system this morning, Vincent. They’ve reopened the case. Every officer who handled it before has been suspended. They’ve brought in a completely new team. Me…”I’ve been fired, arrested, and they’re putting me on trial next week.”
For several seconds, Vince said nothing, then he slowly sighed, ending the call. “Tobias…..i was going to make my move later, but the OCD prince seems impatient.”
“So, this is where you involve the President?” One of his men talked.
Vince chuckled.
“It’s about time. This where I remind Tobias that every kingdom has doors even kings can’t open.”
Instantly, the door opened without warning. Every head turned.
Uncle Will stepped inside.
The instant Vince saw him, his smile vanished.
—
[Allison’s Mansion]
Allison closed the door with the remote, and held her phone to her ear with the other hand, walking to her car as she scrolled online.
Being the friend of a celebrity feels good. She’s just knowing that.
She made the mistake of checking her DM last night, and she wasn’t expecting the number of DMs she met from Seraphina’s new fans.
“Please, can you link me up with Seraphina? I have the perfect body to model for her crochets.”
“I really wanna model for Seraphina. Please, help me.”
“I’ll do it for free, I just wanna wear her crochet, please.”
“I love her a lot!”
Allison laughed, deeply. “Gawd, I never knew this day would co—ahhhhh!!” She ended her word with a scream, cos in her park, there’s an unknown custom-made car.
Gold color. Rare. Dazzling.
“Who the—”
Tobias came down from her car, and her words died fast.
She went still like a robot, breaths seizing as he drew close.
“She’s not here!” She quickly said. “She went to her house already! Her new house at the new Palmers estate! Please don’t hurt me!”
Tobias stopped, turned around immediately and got back in his car, driving out smooth.
Allison went down, squatting and grabbing her chest.
“Omg!”
Across the street, Kimmy’s car perched on the road like a resting bird, and as Kimmy watched Allison outside her mansion, her hand went tight around her steering.
Time is running out.
—
[Seraphina’s Mansion]
The mansion stood elegantly with white stone exterior, softened by sapphire-tinted glass.
Climbing blue hydrangeas framed the entrance beautifully.
It wasn’t sprawling enough to rival billionaire estates, but every corner whispered refined luxury.
Tobias have stared at the mansion so damn hard he could draw labeled copies of the exterior.
After all, he has been sitting here for fifteen unforgiven hours now.
He got here at 9AM, now it’s 12AM.
Midnight.
He stayed in his car, every flicker of light from the dark sky a stab to his restless ribs.
He had’nt left.
Not once.
His car engine had long gone cold, and empty whiskey bottles littered the passenger seat.
He has been drinking.
His phone rested in his palm, the screen illuminating his exhausted face as he pressed her contact again.
Calling…
Ringing…
Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
He ended the call and started another one immediately, his thumb trembling with a crazy desperation he would have slaughtered another man for displaying.
“Pick up…” he whispered hoarsely.
The call died again.
She didn’t pick.
He dragged both hands through his hair so violently that several strands caught between his fingers.
God.
This silence is carving him open.
He looked toward the mansion for what had to be the thousandth time, watching another room sink into darkness while another glowed alive.
He knows she’s in there, existing only a few dozen feet away.
So close, yet impossibly unreachable.
Every instinct in him screamed at him to climb the gate, kick the front door open, storm upstairs and drag her into his arms until she stopped hating him.
He could do that, and no one could stop him, but he knew exactly what that would earn him.
It’ll earn him another wall, and give her another reason for her to look at him with disappointment.
So he stayed outside, waiting for when she’d be comfortable and forgiving enough to open the door.
Hour after miserable hour, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing his eyes shut until they burned. His chest felt too tight, every breath scraping against something raw inside him.
“I deserve this,” he muttered desolately in the empty car. “I know I do…” A bitter laugh escaped him before dying just as quickly. “But, Sera… don’t shut me out.”
His grip on the steering turned brutal, the muscles in his forearm pulling tight
He didn’t even notice when evening became night.
The only thing his mind sees right now is the house before him and the woman inside it.
Every passing minute twisted deeper into obsession and guilt.
What if she never opened the door?
What if tomorrow came, and the next, and the next, and she decided life is easier if she just pretended he no longer existed?
He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel once, then again, twice more.
A broken sound escaped his throat as he buried his face in his palms, shoulders rising with uneven breaths as he fought the unfamiliar sting.
Inside the house, hidden behind the veil of white curtains in her bedroom, Seraphina stood still, her room lights brushed her face.
She watched him.
She saw him glance at his phone every few seconds, hoping it would light up with her name.
She saw him lean back with hollow eyes, only to sit forward again as if staying still hurt too much.
She saw him gripping the steering wheel so tightly his hands trembled.
The First Man of Odium is losing his mind outside her gate.
The man who controls souls and minds and lives and insane wealth was waiting on her.
The man who kills without blinking, sheds blood without thinking, tears people apart and laughs while doing it…he’s out there.
It might sound weird, but she had wanted him to come in and explain everything Yalda explained.
She wants to hear it from his mouth and see him feel guilt and faulty.
But he’s out there, and she doesn’t even know how to function in here.
What should she do?
Her phone rang in her hand again, and she thought of not picking again like she has been doing, but she couldn’t ignore again.
She picked, and she saw how his head left his steering outside in his car, slowly, as if he doesn’t believe she actually picked his call.
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“Sera?” He sounded too low for his usual dominant and alpha mood.
She held her breaths, then his next words undid her.
“I miss you badly, Anathema. Can I come in? Please say yes. I need to see your face before i lose the little mind I have left. Please…”
TBC.
