"I'm going to fucking ruin you."
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The Dark Lord conquers the wizarding world, Harry Potter is dead. Muggleborns are slaughtered. Halfblood's are shoved into imprisonment, conditioned to alter their beliefs and dictated to worship Purebloods.
Y/N Y...
Iniquity is an odd sensation. It is as though my heart has been flipped upside down and my ribs have been mirrored, slanting sideways; my intestines have unraveled themselves and are lining the inner tissue of my stomach— the stomach, the organ that has dropped beside my socks.
"It's day 14, I have the money for Axel's inheritance," Vance claims, dragging my wrists from the threshold of Draco's room, my feet nearly slipping on the hardwood floor. "You are returning to me and in a month we are moving away from this manor so nothing like this happens ever again."
Fear is steady to creep into my presence, like a vine growing to wrap around my throat. "How did you manage to gath—" My sentence halts in a pause, factors and previous statements reverting from clicking within the sense of logicality. "Axel's inheritance was originally a million something plus an estate. How did it get to one billion?"
"There's something called debt and interest." There is slight aggression in his tone and I do not like it one bit. He is not happy with my behavior and that sends needles through a blanket of my emotions. "I wouldn't expect a naive girl who allowed herself to get seduced by that blond imbecile to know about those particular subjects."
"I most certainly know what debt and interest are and I am not naive nor did I 'allow' myself to get seduced by Draco." The emitting of my voice is provoking an annoyance in him, "now back to my previous question, how did you manage to collect a billion worth of galleons in a matter of two weeks?"
"I see Draco has given your memories back to you." He bluntly dodges my question, folding his arms across his hefty chest. "That was against my wishes."
My brain nearly shrivels itself from the pondering of how I ever concluded that I loved such a self-centered man. "I think my memories are my wishes, not yours." My tone reeks of annoyance at how he is treating me at this current time. "Why don't you explain to me how Axel's incubator works since you're so convinced that everything that comes from me is your business."
He scoffs, glancing off to the side as he wipes the snarky expression off his face, plastering on a false articulation of a positive attitude. "An incubator is a machine." Vance begins to explain slowly, as though I were a child. "I used wizardry to remove the fetus from your uterus and placed him in the incubator— which is projected with a rapid growth system. I kept my promise and kept Axel in that machine for 4 years, resulting in his appearance to look and act like a 15-year-old teenager; when in reality he's—."
