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          In movies they always talk about making deals with the devil but little did we know, in Riverdale, someone had made one with him. It wasn't a little deal either. It was a monstrous one. Not one that would only impact the lives of those involved but also the lives of those not involved.

          They say that war has casualties and that's obviously a given. The difference between a literal war and a figurative war is that most of the time the soldiers are aware of their operation and are wearing a camouflage uniform. Yet with the impending war with Riverdale, they were flying blind and wearing their everyday clothes. Does war have casualties? Oh definitely...and a lot of them.

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A shattered Hermione wraps her satin robe around her cold shoulders as she brings the glass of wine to her glossed lips. She drags her tongue against the edge of the glass at first, staring at the fire in the fireplace bellowing a slight puff of white smoke. She quickly knocks a sip of the sweet wine back, savoring the taste in her mouth. It almost tasted like her husband. She taps on the glass with her freshly manicured fingers as she continues to stare into the fire.

"Is everything okay, mom?" Veronica asks as she approaches the living room from the dark hallway where her bedroom is hidden. She crosses her own cold arms across the lace of her nightgown as a barrel of concern tears through her. She hadn't seen or heard her father's voice in hours. "Yes mija," Hermione smiles, "everything is fine."

"Where's daddy?" Veronica asks as she approaches the sofa where her mother sits. Hermione takes another sip of her wine as she glides her tongue across her bottom lip. "He went out for a little," she says quietly, "but there's school tomorrow. You should really get to bed." Veronica nods in agreement as she walks around the sofa, giving her mother a gentle hug. "I love you, mom," Veronica says as she pats the satin robe on her mother's back. "I love you too, baby," Hermione smiles as she squeezes her daughter in return.

In a few moments, Hermione is left alone with her thoughts as she hears Veronica's bedroom door close. She takes a final swig of wine and places the glass on the table in front of her. She thinks about where he went. She thinks about what he's doing. A sense of pure dread drums through her veins and into her stomach where a bout of nausea form. The truth is, she knows exactly where he is and who he's doing.

She fights back burning tears as the nausea quickly subsides and her heart pounds deep in her chest. After everything that she had done for him and that's how he had left her. He left her shattered. Broken. Hermione always knew that Hiram was a good business man but she never imagined that she would be the one getting played.

The pain turns into anger as a fiery pit, similar to the one in the fire in front of her, grows in place of her heart. She turns to her phone next to her and begins hastily typing on the touch screen below her fingertips. While Hiram was always a savvy business man, Hermione would admit to being a grade A bitch and villainous matriarch if need be. Unfortunately for Brooke Harlow, Hermione's need for revenge was now.

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Clothes are strewn throughout the hardwood floors of the apartment as Brooke and Hiram are entangled in white cotton sheets and sweat. She rests her head on his chest as he continuously glides his fingertips up and down her bare back, staring at the ceiling above them. Her left hand stays on his warm abdomen as his breathing causes his chest to slowly rise and fall. While their mouths are silent, their minds are running wild with the memories of a few minutes ago.

"I missed you," Hiram says simply, his voice low. Brooke smiles stiffly as she runs the tips of her fingers from where they rested on his abdomen further up his chest. Her right cheek is warm and sticky from sweat as she removes it from his chest, placing her chin in the spot instead. She beams at him as his attention moves from the ceiling to her. "I missed you too," she whispers.

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