A game of love behind the cards

X. Jealousy

3rd Pov

The first light of dawn seeped through the curtains of Y/n's bedroom, casting a golden glow on the polished marble floors and intricately crafted furniture in the room. As Y/n gradually regained consciousness, he realised that he was surrounded by an opulent environment that had become his refuge from the harsh realities outside the confines of his family's apartment.

With a stretch upon awakening, Y/n pushed away the smooth sheets that covered him and rose from his bed. His movements were graceful yet purposeful, reflecting the refinement and control he had learned since childhood. As he walked across his bedroom, his steps softened by the thick carpet below, he couldn't shake the feeling of disconnection from the outside world, a world full of activity, disorder and uncertainty.

But even in the middle of the tranquility of his surroundings, there laid an unspoken tension, a palpable sense of unease that hung heavy in the air like a shroud draped over his shoulders. It was a feeling that had become more familiar to him in recent days, a persistent sense of disquiet that refused to dissipate, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. The nightmare haunted him, its specter looming over his thoughts like a dark cloud threatening to engulf him at any moment.

Y/n approached the window with purposeful steps, though an underlying unease coloured his movements. As he reached for the latch, his gaze was fixed on the horizon where the sun began its ascent, stirring memories of the haunting nightmare that still plagued his thoughts.

In the recesses of his memory, Y/n found himself standing in a dimly lit corridor where the air held a weighty tension, mingled with the scent of aged wood and dust. At his side stood his father, exuding a commanding aura of authority and strength. His father's voice echoed through the corridor, yet still very authoritative.

Father: You need to understand, Y/n. This is your legacy. One day, it will all be yours, under your rule. You should watch and learn.

Before Y/n could utter a word, two imposing bodyguards stormed into the room, hauling a woman between them with a grip as firm as steel. They compelled her to kneel before Y/n and his father, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and defiance. A heated confrontation ensued between his father and the woman, their voices escalating in anger and frustration. It was a clash of stubborn wills, driven by longstanding animosity and bitterness between their families.

Father: You've crossed a line. Your family's ambitions threaten our authority.

Woman: Our ambitions are our own. We won't be bullied into submission.

Father: Bullying? This is business, not a playground. You'll learn that soon enough.

Woman: We play by the rules, unlike some. Mercy is a virtue, one you seem to have forgotten.

Father: Survival is our priority.

Woman: Survival? This isn't a war. It's business.

Father: In business, there are winners and losers. Which will you be? You think you can challenge us and get away with it? Your family will pay for their disloyalty.

As the tension in the room grew palpable, Y/n's father reached into his jacket and pulled out a shiny metallic object, unmistakably a gun. The woman's face was drained of colour, her expression a mixture of horror and acceptance. Glancing at Y/n, her eyes conveyed an unspoken sadness, tinged with a touch of defiance.

Woman: Kindness is a strength, not a weakness.

As the woman's voice faded, leaving the corridor in tense silence, Y/n's father's unwavering gaze bore down on her. His face remained impassive, emotionless, as his gaze locked onto hers with bitterness.