Descent - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter forty-four

Mattheo

June 24th, 11:00 p.m., Dubai

Jealousy. Now that, unlike most emotions, was something I knew all too well. I understood it long before I even realized what it was—a sharp, bitter feeling that crawled under your skin and gnawed at you until you couldn't think straight. It wasn't foreign to me. I'd known it as a child, long before I learned how to control everything else.

I used to watch Theodore with his mother and feel it stir in my chest. She was always doting on him, always looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world. Before she died, of course. It wasn't that I wanted a mother like her—I didn't care for that kind of softness—but I couldn't help but feel the sting of jealousy every time I saw it. My mother had never looked at me that way. I wasn't something she'd wanted. I was just part of the deal—something she had to produce for my father.

Then there was Draco. Second year at Hogwarts. His father sent him the newest, most expensive broom on the market—practically rubbed it in everyone's face. I didn't care much for the broom, could have just snatch it, but seeing him show off that broom, knowing it was a gift from a father who actually cared enough to give him something like that... yeah, that got to me too. I'd never admit it to Draco or anyone else, but I wanted it. Not the broom itself, but what it represented.

And Blaise. Blaise always had a certain air about him, like the world couldn't touch him. Maybe it was the fortune he inherited, or the fact that every time one of his stepfathers mysteriously disappeared, he'd get a little richer. I couldn't tell you how many times I watched him talk about the wealth his mother had, the freedom it gave him, and felt that same stab of envy rise up in me. Not because I needed the money, but because Blaise had something more than that. He had choices. Freedom. He wasn't tied to a madman's legacy the way I was.

I was always jealous, always aware of what others had that I didn't. I realized soon that it wasn't really jealousy though, more like envy. But still, I was in control of it. It was something I learned to keep under wraps, to bury beneath layers of indifference and calculated calm. Envy was just a part of life—something to manage, something to compartmentalize. I didn't let it get the best of me.

But then again, jealousy? True jealousy? That was still different. That was something I hadn't understood until recently, something much darker, much more dangerous than mere envy. Envy was when you wanted something that didn't belong to you. Jealousy... jealousy was the fear that someone would take away what was already yours, or at least that's it in my case.

Jealousy wasn't about wanting what others had. It was about holding on to what you had with a vice grip, terrified that someone else might come and rip it away from you. It was possessive, all-consuming. It ate at your insides, made you see things that weren't there, made you believe that every look, every word, every small interaction was a threat. A threat to what you held dear. And in my case, it wasn't a possession, not anymore. It was her. Lucia.

I'd always been in control. I knew how to manage my emotions, how to keep everything in check. But now, when it came to Lucia, all that control felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

The city lights of Dubai were getting closer now, the towering skyline glowing against the night sky. Lucia walked beside me, her fingers lightly brushing against mine as we made our way toward the edge of the city. I could feel the pull of her magic, still lingering in the air around her, a constant reminder of everything she now carried within her. It made me uneasy, but more than that, it made me protective. Fiercely protective.

We had to stop the ship outside the city, hidden among the dunes. No one could see us riding in on a Death Eater ship. That would have been asking for trouble.