Whispers Of Chaos | ✓

| 24. 𝑩𝒖𝒓𝒏

I could burn this city down
I could put you under ground
Make the stars fall from the sky
Make the clouds and heaven cry
~ Burn, 2WEI

Chapter 24. Burn

She is THE daughter.

She is THE knighthood.

She has THE Sullivan.

She had everything.

Mirelle threw the glass on the wall.

"Mirelle, calm down," Viktor pleaded.

"Shut up," she hissed, her eyes ablaze with fury. Her fingers trembled with pent-up frustration, and her chest heaved.

"Mi-"

"SHUT UP!" Mirelle's scream reverberated through the room, drowning out Viktor's attempts to calm her.

Her hand found solace in her hair, fingers gripping strands tightly as if to anchor herself in the storm within. Mirelle's eyes, usually cool and calculating, burned with the intensity of a smoldering fire.

Images flashed before her eyes-the regal Selena, basking in the audience. The spotlight was on her, the chosen one. Mirelle seethed with resentment.

Mirelle's fists clenched at the unfairness of it all.

"Why?" she spat, a venomous whisper escaping her lips.

Her mind replayed the scenes-the lingering gazes, the adoring smiles, the stolen glances that should have been reserved for her.

Why? Why did Selena have all the attention?

----

Richard, a man consumed by raw anger, wielded a golf bat like a vengeful god, destroying everything in his path. His breaths were ragged, each exhale laden with frustration that surged through him like a wildfire.

The blonde man's eyes burned with an intensity that bordered on madness. "How dare she," he panted, the veins in his neck pulsating with fury. He swung the golf bat, breaking vases and shattering art pieces.

"How dare she humiliate me like that!"

The shattered remnants of a once-pristine vase now became deadly shrapnel. It sliced through the tender skin of a boy, leaving a jagged trail of crimson in its wake. Blood dripped down his face.

"Where is your brother?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the wreckage, unaffected by the cuts on his face. The response he received was monotone, a voice devoid of emotion. "I don't know."

Richard's frustration reached a boiling point, and he let out a scream that reverberated through the now-desolate house. "God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his anger directed at an unseen force that seemed to mock him. "Why are you so dumb."

Another piece of art met its demise as he shattered ceramic into irreparable pieces. "I should have killed you in the womb. I wouldn't have another headache," he spat, his words venomous with the resentment that had festered for years.

The boy, a silent witness to the anger storm-remained unmoved. It was nothing new-being unacknowledged was considered nothing more than a mistake in the eyes of his kin.

The woman, who shared no blood ties with him, looked at his face with disgust. "Go upstairs," she commanded.

"Yes, mother," came the obedient response.

"Boss, we have found the young master," a subordinate dared to interrupt, bringing in a visibly drunk Xavier. Richard swatted the man's hand away dismissively. "Fuck off."

"Xavier," Richard addressed his son, attempting to calm himself. "Where the fuck did you go?"

"For some air," he grunted. "I don't want to marry that whore, Father," Xavier hissed, his disdain evident in his words.

"What do you mean? She is your fiancée," Richard pointed out.

"She is a whore who goes on kissing people. She was making out with that monster when I thought of going to meet her."

"What?" Richard's frown deepened. "Who?" he demanded.

"Rafael Sullivan," Xavier revealed, his words causing Richard to jerk up, his eyes ablaze with a newfound intensity.

"Did he call her something?" Richard asked urgently, the gravity of the situation dawning on him. "Something related to a flower."

"No, I don't think so," Xavier replied.

"Good," Richard muttered, though an unsettling feeling lingered. "Good."

"Boss. Carl is here to meet you."

Word count: 612
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