Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 27

Chapter 27 – Not Ready to Give Up

Zatariel's Point of View

I parked my dad's motorcycle outside the Dom mansion estate. Presidential security was no joke—guards everywhere, cameras on every corner, the kind of surveillance that probably counted how many times you blinked.

Honestly, the President had probably already noticed that the son of a billionaire just rode a motorcycle through his gates without a helmet, without a license, and without an invitation.

The guardshere knew me. But tonight they looked... confused. Probably because I looked like absolute hell.

One of them stepped forward. "Sir—"

"Either let me in," I said flatly, "or I get kidnapped outside. Your choice."

The guards exchanged a look. One of them spoke into the intercom. I couldn't hear what he said. Maybe he was calling my parents. Maybe the President.

I didn't care.

A few seconds later, the gate opened. One guard escorted me through the elevator lobby. He stepped inside with me and pressed B3 without asking.

Great.

So the entire mansion already knew Jayson was in the wine cellar. Which meant the President knew too. Honestly, what exactly could anyone hide in this house?

The basement smelled like expensive wine pretending to be cheap.

Jayson Dom—Mr. I Have My Life Together— slouched on the stone floor.

Legs sprawled. One shoe is missing. Cradling a bottle like it held the meaning of life.

Judging by the empty rack behind him, he had already chugged half the stash.

I stepped into the wine room and immediately regretted not bringing emotional armor.

Jayson's eyes were glassy. He looked like someone had burned his dreams and forced him to eat the ashes.

"Wow," I muttered, leaning against the stone wall. "And here I thought I was a wreck."

Asha sat cross-legged on a crate of vintage cabernet. Her mascara was smudged. Her hair looked like it had survived a natural disaster.

She glanced between the two of us like a single mom dealing with twin toddlers.

"Don't start, Zat," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "He's been like that for an hour. I tried everything—water, threats against his robot collection, and emotional manipulation using tragic childhood memories. Nothing works. He just wants to rot there."

Jayson hiccupped. "She had... a boyfriend."

His voice sounded like gravel and heartbreak. "In Amerina. Varsity guy. Bakes cupcakes."

He stared into the bottle like it personally betrayed him. "Can you believe that? Ofri likes frosting now."

He took another swig.

"Yeah," I said, dropping beside Asha with a tired groan. "Tough break. The guy plays sports and decorates baked goods. That's elite competition. No wonder you lost, Mr. Nerd."

Asha kicked my shin. "Zatariel. Not. Helping."

"Sorry," I muttered. "Sarcasm is my last surviving life skill."

I studied Jayson more closely. Up close, he somehow looked worse.

His tie was wrapped around his wrist like a sad bandage. His phone screen was cracked. There was actual frosting on his collar.