CZARINA

VENOM

Mors's POV

The past five years have wrought a profound change in my Czarina's demeanor. Once vibrant and full of life, she now often carries an air of trepidation, especially in my presence.
While her obedience is something I cherish deeply—it's a reflection of the dynamic we share—I can't help but notice the subtle shift in her spirit.

She understands the hierarchy of our relationship, and that knowledge brings me a twisted sense of satisfaction. Yet, beneath that satisfaction lies a gnawing discomfort, a realization that her obedience comes at a cost.

However, it troubles me to see her struggle to don a mask of happiness whenever we are together. Where has the genuine smile of years gone by disappeared to? The thought of it gnaws at me, igniting a simmering frustration within. I yearn for the days when laughter flowed freely between us, when her eyes sparkled with joy rather than fear.

Five years ago, Serene, a lingering specter from our past, became a target of my wrath. I had issued a stark warning, one laced with the promise of violence: if she continued to encroach upon my Czarina's life, I would not hesitate to annihilate her family. Serene took my threat to heart, and as a result, she has kept her distance, ensuring that my Czarina remains solely mine. No one else can lay claim to her; she is my possession, and I intend to keep it that way.

Yet, as I reflect on the lengths I have gone to protect what is mine, I can't shake the feeling that my Czarina is paying a price for my actions. The shadows of fear that linger in her eyes are a constant reminder of the darkness that surrounds us. I wonder if she truly understands the depths of my love or if she merely tolerates the monster I have become. The burden of my choices weighs heavily on my conscience, and I find myself questioning whether my love is a blessing or a curse.

Tonight, I plan to take my Czarina on a date that she will never forget. I have reserved a suite at a luxurious five-star hotel, certain that she will be overjoyed by the surprise. Earlier today, I arranged for a stunning dress to be delivered to her home; I can only hope she has received it by now. It has been too long since we shared a meaningful moment together—the last time was merely four days ago, yet it feels like an eternity. The emptiness I feel in her absence is palpable, especially after the turmoil that has enveloped me since my cold-hearted father succumbed to illness.
In truth, I find a twisted sense of relief in his passing; I have long awaited my chance to ascend the throne.

My reverie is abruptly interrupted by the ringing of my phone.“Mors, did you send this beautiful dress?” Her voice is a melody that resonates within me, stirring something deep in my chest.

“Yes, darling. We have a date tonight, so be ready by 8 p.m. I’ll pick you up,” I reply, my tone deep and reassuring, trying to infuse warmth into the conversation.

“Okay,” she responds, but I detect a hint of melancholy in her voice, a note of hesitation that sends a ripple of concern through me. Just then, a knock at my office door pulls my attention away.

“I’ll call you back soon. Remember the date. I love you,” I say, hanging up before the conversation can linger, not wanting to dwell on her uncertainty.

“Come in,” I command, and the door swings open to reveal my mother.
As cold and heartless as ever, I think to myself, a familiar bitterness rising within me.

“Mother, what brings you here?” I ask, my voice laced with an icy edge, a protective barrier against her presence.

“Now that your father is gone, you must adopt a more mature demeanor. I expect no mistakes from you. Tomorrow, Mr. Arvalov will host a dinner, and I want YOU to attend with me. Listen closely, son, YOU must eliminate him before dawn. Do you understand my command?” Her tone is chilling, a reminder of the ruthless legacy she has instilled in me since childhood.