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A/N - I highly recommend that you press play on the video above and let the music run throughout this chapter! :)
✧•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
The ball had ended, the grand ballroom now a hollow echo of the vibrant event that had taken place only hours before. The guests had departed, leaving behind a trail of empty champagne glasses and scattered decorations. The silence was almost deafening, a stark contrast to the earlier festivities.
You stood at the entrance of the now-empty ballroom, your chest heaving with the force of your suppressed rage. The revelation of your engagement to Fyodor had left you reeling, your mind a whirlwind of anger and disbelief. You could still hear the polite applause, see the smug smirk on Fyodor's face as your father announced the engagement. Your father had left no room for argument, his authoritative tone making it clear that this was not a decision you could contest.
As you stepped into the hallway, your fury erupted. You grabbed the nearest vase—a priceless piece of porcelain—and hurled it to the floor. The sound of shattering pottery echoed through the hall, but it barely registered in your mind. Your breath came in short, ragged bursts as you moved from one piece of decor to the next, your hands shaking with barely controlled wrath.
You reached the heavy velvet curtains lining the windows and yanked them down with a scream of frustration, the fabric tearing in your hands. The grand hall, usually a place of elegance and refinement, was rapidly becoming a scene of chaos. Your father's expensive tastes lay in ruins around you, a testament to your unbridled fury.
Another vase met the same fate, its delicate shards scattering across the floor like a trail of broken promises. You didn't stop to admire your handiwork; you were on a mission, and nothing would stand in your way. Your stormy eyes scanned the hallway for any sign of Fyodor, the man who had dared to ensnare you in his twisted game.
You reached a row of framed portraits and, with a snarl, began ripping them from the walls. The faces of your ancestors stared blankly back at you, their silent judgment only fuelling your rage. You tore each one down, the glass splintering and the frames cracking as they crashed to the ground.
"Fyodor!" You screamed, your voice echoing down the corridor. But there was no answer, only the eerie silence of the empty hall. Your frustration mounted with each passing second, your movements becoming more frantic. You pulled at the remaining curtains, shredding the rich fabric with your nails, your fingers raw and bleeding.
Your search took you through the winding hallways, the devastation in your wake a physical manifestation of the storm raging within you. You were a whirlwind of anger and pain, your mind consumed with thoughts of revenge. Every step you took, every item you destroyed, brought you closer to the man you sought.
