Nero - Revenge never tasted better

Chapter 15- The Secrets We Bury

His presence was calming, a balm to the chaos that surrounded us. Whenever he looked at me with those soulful eyes, I felt a connection that went beyond words. He was the one I envisioned spending my life with, the one I was preparing to run away with into the unknown upon the convoy's arrival.

And then there was Thomas, a stark contrast. His behaviour was nothing short of toxic, a twisted dance of power and control that, at least in my eyes, bordered on the absurd. His macho posturing, his possessiveness over me and others, his blatant disregard for anyone he considered 'inferior'—these were traits I despised It was as if he'd stepped straight out of a bygone era, one where women were treated as mere possessions, their voices silenced.

Somewhere along the twisted path of our entanglement, my perception of him began to warp. His behaviour, the very behaviour I should have utterly despised, now triggered a different response within me. It was as if I were peering at him through an entirely new lens, one that amplified his masculinity, his undeniable dominance. Those traits that once made me cringe were now igniting something in me, something I could no longer deny - an inscrutable attraction.

Oh, the battle within me to reconcile these conflicting emotions, especially when I compared them to my feelings for Aiyden. How could I find myself yearning for Thomas one moment, his touch setting off a firestorm that torched all reason, while still longing for Aiyden's understanding and tender affection? It was a turmoil that threatened to unravel the very fabric of my carefully curated identity.

And then there were the flimsy excuses I crafted in Thomas's defence- justifications that only highlighted the convoluted mess of my emotions.

His violent outbursts, his maddening possessiveness, his treatment of women - all completely inexcusable, traits that should've sent me sprinting in the opposite direction. But there I was, rationalizing his actions. Perhaps it was the lure of the forbidden, the thrill of dancing with danger. Or maybe, just maybe, there was a part of me relishing his dominance, his unapologetic assertion of his desires. Or perhaps, dare I entertain the thought, he was right all along, and I had yet to fully embrace the shadowy depths of my own desires.

Amidst the ceaseless chaos and turmoil, I couldn't help but entertain a most vexing notion: was I losing the essence of what makes me, well, me?

On that bitterly cold December afternoon, as I returned from the academy, I noticed a commotion emanating from Nicodemo's room. Intrigued, I approached, the door ajar, offering a tantalizing view of the scene within. Butlers, like finely tuned machines, bustled about, methodically packing a collection of exquisite clothing and indispensable items. The air crackled with an energy that foretold an imminent departure.

With his commanding stature and salt-and-pepper mane, he stood by the window, exuding an aura of unassailable authority. His eyes, cold and calculating, surveyed the room as his lips curved into a satisfied smile. He was always in control, always playing the game of power with an expertise that both awed and terrified me. Today was no different.

"Ensure that every detail is meticulously attended to," he ordered, his voice laden with a gravitas that demanded unwavering obedience.

The butlers moved with practiced precision, packing his belongings as if each item held the weight of his supremacy.

"Nero," he began, his voice measured, "I am embarking on a trip to a small town in Texas. High-ranking officers of the Clan will accompany me. It's time we spread our ideology to those who share our views. The members think it crucial for us to strengthen our grip before the upcoming presidential elections."

The unease that stirred within me at his words was undeniable. Beyond the stifling confines of Crimson Hollow, the world was a complex tapestry of power struggles and ever-shifting alliances, but it was also a world of liberation, of dreams where acceptance wasn't just a mirage. The idea of extending our dominion, well, it only deepened the tempestuous maelstrom brewing within me.