Last Elysium

Web of vengeance

The first rays of dawn filtered through the tall windows of the Everett mansion, casting a warm glow over the elegant interior. The mansion, with its marble floors and luxurious furnishings, stood as a symbol of power and wealth. But today, its grandeur felt overshadowed by the tension in the air.

Victor sat in his office chair, leaning back as he stared at the documents scattered on his desk. With a practiced motion, he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. His eyes momentarily closed as he savored the sensation, the tip of the cigarette glowing bright orange. The smoke filled his lungs, a mix of harshness and calm. He exhaled slowly, watching the thin stream of smoke dissipate into the air. The smell of tobacco hung in the room, mingling with the fresh scent of early morning.

He flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette, watching it fall to the ground. His gaze shifted to the large mahogany desk, cluttered with papers, plans, and photographs. Each document represented a step in his meticulously crafted plan for revenge. The photograph of Damien, the man who had wronged him, lay on top, taunting him.

Victor sighed deeply before glancing at his phone and picking it up. The phone rang for a few seconds before Michael's voice greeted him on the other end.

"Oh, it's so odd for you to call me for no significant reason," Michael said with a smirk.

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose and placed the cigarette in the ashtray before he spoke in a low voice. "That's an older brother for you," he retorted, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Michael chuckled mockingly. "My bad, forgive me, brother. I should've been mindful of my words and greeted you properly," he added in a feigned apologetic voice.

"Cut the crap, Michael. I'm not playing games with you. I need your help with something," Victor's voice grew louder and harsher.

"Relax, I'm all ears. Tell me about it," Michael replied.

Victor was gradually losing his patience with his brother, but he composed himself before speaking again. "I need your help with my plan. I want revenge, Michael, and you know why. I want to see that bastard begging for mercy for what he did to me, to us."

There was a long pause before Michael cleared his throat and spoke seriously. "Oh, I know why. Don't worry, I have plenty of ways to make him pay. I still need to get back at him for ruining my precious plan. I want my wealth and power back."

A devious grin formed on Victor's lips, satisfied with his brother's determination and commitment to their plan. "Very well said," he remarked with an amused smile.

"Anyway, I think it would be easy to get close to them if we can have that guy on our side," Michael's voice echoed on the other end of the call.

"Who are you referring to?" Victor asked, slightly confused.

"Elijah," Michael responded almost instantly as if he'd been waiting to discuss this matter.

"Elijah? Who is that? Do you know him?" Victor's voice sounded intrigued and menacing.

Michael's smirk grew wider. "Well, he's Y/n's childhood friend, and they seem pretty close even after all these years. I think we can use that to our advantage if he's willing to take the risk."

A dark, low chuckle escaped Victor's mouth at the suggestion. "You know what to do."

"Of course I do. Leave the rest to me, brother," Michael responded confidently.

The phone call ended, and Victor put his phone away, leaning back in his chair and staring at the photo on his desk amidst the scattered documents. His smirk widened as he observed the person in the picture. He got up from his seat, walked to the large window in his office, and looked through the blinds, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Victor turned back to his desk, picking up the photograph of Damien. He traced the edges of the picture with his finger, a mix of hatred and anticipation bubbling within him. Damien's betrayal had cut deep, but the thought of revenge brought a twisted sense of satisfaction. He couldn't wait to see Damien on his knees, begging for mercy.

His thoughts wandered to Y/n, the unwitting pawn in his game. She had always been an enigma to him, a mixture of strength and vulnerability. Victor's mind raced with possibilities of how to manipulate her, using her to get closer to Damien. His brother's suggestion about Elijah intrigued him. If Elijah was indeed close to Y/n, then he could be the key to unraveling their defenses.

Victor walked over to a small bar in the corner of his office and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the light as he swirled it in the glass, taking a contemplative sip. He needed to ensure that Elijah would cooperate. Bribery, threats, or promises of power—whatever it took, he would make Elijah an ally.

He picked up his phone again and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for. Elijah might not be expecting his call, but Victor was confident he could persuade him. He dialed the number and waited, the ringing echoing in the silent room.

After a few rings, a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"

"Elijah, it's Victor Everett," Victor said smoothly, a hint of authority in his tone.

There was a pause on the other end. "Victor? What do you want?" his voice shifted in a more serious tone and he seemed wary of him.

"I have a proposition for you," Victor continued, ignoring the suspicion in Elijah's voice. "Something that could be mutually beneficial."

"I'm listening," Elijah replied cautiously.

"I know you're close to Y/n," Victor began, choosing his words carefully. "And I know you have certain... feelings for her. I can help you, Elijah. I can help you get what you want."

Elijah's silence was telling, and Victor knew he had struck a chord. "What do you mean?" Elijah finally asked.

"Y/n could be yours," Victor said, his voice low and persuasive. "But first, I need your help with something. It's about Damien."

"What do you want me to do?" Elijah's voice was hesitant but intrigued.

"I need you to keep an eye on them. Report back to me with any information that could be useful. In return, I will make sure you get close to Y/n," Victor promised.

Elijah took a deep breath, the weight of the proposition sinking in. "And what if I refuse?"

Victor's tone turned cold. "Refusing is not an option, Elijah. You will do as I say, or there will be consequences."

There was a long silence before Elijah responded, "Alright, Victor. I'll do it."

"Good. You'll be hearing from me soon," Victor said, ending the call. He placed the phone down and took another sip of his whiskey, satisfied with the turn of events.

Victor's mind buzzed with the possibilities. With Elijah on his side, he could get closer to Y/n and ultimately to Damien. The game was unfolding perfectly, and soon, he would have everything he desired. He walked back to the window, looking out at the sunrise with a determined expression.

"I'll get rid of him fast along with that friend of yours, and you'll be mine," he repeated to himself, the morning light casting a shadow over his face as he plotted his next move. The Everett mansion stood tall and proud, but within its walls, a sinister plan was taking shape. And as the day began, so did Victor's quest for revenge.