𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

THIS EPISODE CONTAINS MATURE SCENES.

Reader discretion is advised. This episode may include content that is intended for mature audiences, and contains themes and scenes that may not be suitable for all readers.

Content could include strong language, violence, adult situations, and other mature themes. If you are sensitive to such content or under the age of consent, I recommend choosing a different story to read.

PLEASE read at your own discretion, and be mindful of the content's appropriateness for your age and personal preferences.

—

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋

Demetrio leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed and utterly unapologetic. His voice, smooth as ever, held a trace of amusement as he explained himself, “I was just testing out my new product, you know. Had to make sure it was up to par.”

My anger simmered just beneath the surface, and I knew I couldn’t contain it any longer — with a sudden, violent motion, I hurled the gun across the room, the metallic clatter punctuating the air.

Before anyone could react, my clenched fists collided with Demetrio’s face, a raw expression of my fury. The impact sent Demetrio’s chair toppling backward, and he crashed to the floor.

I didn’t stop there. I unleashed a series of punches, each fueled by the betrayal I felt, and the danger Teagan had been put in. Demetrio’s grinning façade crumbled under the onslaught of blows.

The room erupted into chaos as our friends rushed to intervene, pulling me away from Demetrio. Thaddeus, Sebastian, and Bartholomew struggled to restrain me, their voices filled with concern and urgency.

Amid the chaos, my voice seethed with menace as I threatened Demetrio, “I could expose your laboratory of illicit substances to the government. I will ruin you!”

Demetrio, bloodied but unbowed, laughed as he slowly got back on his feet, his grin never wavering. “Dacre, my friend,” He taunted. “We’re not so different, you and I. We both live in the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the world.”

My rage flared anew, and I lunged at Demetrio, aiming for another punch, but I was held back by our friends.

The tension in the room was thick, a volatile mixture of anger, betrayal, and a chilling acknowledgement of the illicit world we all inhabited.

As Demetrio wiped the blood from his split lip, he spoke with a chilling nonchalance, “You should know, that new substance I put in Teagan’s drink will make her forget everything. She won’t remember a thing about tonight.”

His words hung heavily in the air, a final twist of the knife in the wound of betrayal. He shifted his gaze to me, and delivered the ultimate blow. “The cure for Starfall is in the process in my lab, Salvadore.”

With that, Demetrio turned on his heel and left the room, leaving behind a tense silence that echoed with the weight of his revelations.

Consumed by a mixture of rage, frustration, and guilt, I couldn’t contain my emotions any longer. I snatched up a few shot glasses from the table and hurled them at the door as it closed behind Demetrio.

The confrontation had laid bare the complexities of our shared existence, where lines between morality and deception were blurred, and loyalties were tested to the limits.

—

The atmosphere at Le Cristal Éclatant was outwardly amiable as Sebastian, Thaddeus, Nathaniel, Demetrio, Bartholomew, and I gathered for lunch. We had managed to maintain a veneer of civility after the altercation, although an underlying tension lingered.

Nathaniel leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with entrepreneurial zeal. “Gentlemen, I assure you, this underground casino will be unlike anything this city has ever seen. It will be a discreet, exclusive establishment, catering to a select clientele.”

As the group listened intently to Nathaniel’s plans, Demetrio seized a moment when the conversation seemed to flow smoothly to pose a question that had been on his mind.

“Dacre,” He began casually. “How come your brother, Roux, never joins us for meetings like this?”

I paused for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “Roux and I are different,” I explained. “He pursues his own interest, and it’s best that he remains unaware of our shared endeavors.”

They exchanged knowing glances, understanding the implications of my words. In our world, secrecy was a currency as valuable as any other, and the less certain individuals knew about our illicit empire, the safer we all were.

—

My penthouse was a study in elegance and minimalism. The walls, painted a cool shade of grey, created a calming atmosphere, a perfect contrast to the bustling cityscape that lay beyond the panoramic windows.

Those windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, offered a breathtaking view of the city’s glittering skyline, a testament to my success and power.

The interior design was a symphony of black and grey with sleek, modern furnishings and artful touches of monochrome sophistication.

It was a sanctuary that exuded a sense of control, an oasis of calm amidst the chaos of my world.

As I entered the bedroom, my eyes fell upon the sight that greeted me.

A woman.

Her features bathed in the soft glow of the ambient lighting, laying in my bed. She is a vision of serene beauty, her chestnut hair cascading like silk over the pillows, her long, dark lashes casting delicate shadows on her porcelain skin. Her lips, with a hint of a natural color, held a timeless allure.

She slept peacefully, her breaths steady and even, unaware of my presence. I approached her, kneeling beside the bed, my fingers gently entwining with hers.

My lips pressed tenderly to her hands as tears welled up in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the word’s a mantra that tumbled from my lips repeatedly. My voice was filled with profound sorrow, seeking forgiveness for sins I couldn’t name. My tears fell onto her hands, the silent witness to the depths of my regret.

Amidst my tears, my phone buzzed, startling me. I reached for it, noting the caller ID displayed a mysterious number.

“Dacre Salvadore,”

TO BE CONTINUED.