Read story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 124
[Vince’s Crib]
This hideout is an abandoned bakehouse, another one of Vince’s countless rotting nests scattered across the city.
The walls still reek of flour, burnt crust, and stale yeast, but the smell means nothing.
His men dragged him here straight from the pub after the stabbing from Seraphina. No ambulance or hospital.
Vince would rather bleed into the floorboards than let his name appear on a medical record.
Now, he’s awake.
Lying flat on his stomach across a narrow bed in the cramped room, he wore the grin of a man in paradise.
He looks half-dead with skin drained of color, lips dry, eyes fever-bright with the kind of madness that no doctor could diagnose.
His broad back is a map of old scars laying beneath thick spread of blood-soaked dressings plastered over his fresh stab wound.
The door creaked open, and one of his men stepped in carrying a bottle of gin.
Without even bothering to sit up, Vince snatched it, uncorked it with his teeth, and swallowed mouthful after mouthful.
The liquor burned down his throat, and his smile widened.
“I still don’t understand why you let her walk away after she buried a knife in your back,” one of the men muttered.
Vince laughed softly. “She stabbed me.” Another laugh. “She…stabbed me.” His pupils trembled. “Do you know what that means?”
Nobody answered.
“It means I still exist inside her head.” His voice dropped to an almost affectionate whisper. “People don’t stab strangers like that. They stab people they can’t stop thinking about. She chose me.”
He shut his eyes as though replaying the moment. “The way she drove the blade in, there was feeling behind it.”
“But—” one of his men tried to go against his words.
“I said…” Vince’s voice exploded, “She. Stabbed. Me!!!”
He lurched off the bed before anyone could stop him, and agony ripped through his body.
His spine twisted violently, more blood and pain exploded through his back stab wound.
A strangled groan burst from his throat. “Nghh…damn!”
He caught himself against the wall, refusing every hand of his men that reached for him.
More blood blossomed through the fresh bandages and soaked the waistband of his trousers, dripping onto the wooden floor.
“Look at that,” he whispered. “She stabbed me exactly as deeply as she loves me.”
He ran shaking fingers over the blood leaking through the bandages.
“I kept waiting for her to send me a sign, and she finally did with this stab. She’s forgiven me, and she’s ready to come home. It’s time for me to reclaim my throne and put my queen back where she belongs.”
No one dared respond as the room had become too quiet, then his phone rang. He answered immediately.
“Yes?”
The police voice on the other end was rushed and panicky.
“A new piece of evidence appeared in the system this morning, Vincent. They’ve reopened the case. Every officer who handled it before has been suspended. They’ve brought in a completely new team. Me…”I’ve been fired, arrested, and they’re putting me on trial next week.”
For several seconds, Vince said nothing, then he slowly sighed, ending the call. “Tobias…..i was going to make my move later, but the OCD prince seems impatient.”
“So, this is where you involve the President?” One of his men talked.
Vince chuckled.
“It’s about time. This where I remind Tobias that every kingdom has doors even kings can’t open.”
Instantly, the door opened without warning. Every head turned.
Uncle Will stepped inside.
The instant Vince saw him, his smile vanished.
—
[Allison’s Mansion]
Allison closed the door with the remote, and held her phone to her ear with the other hand, walking to her car as she scrolled online.
Being the friend of a celebrity feels good. She’s just knowing that.
She made the mistake of checking her DM last night, and she wasn’t expecting the number of DMs she met from Seraphina’s new fans.
“Please, can you link me up with Seraphina? I have the perfect body to model for her crochets.”
“I really wanna model for Seraphina. Please, help me.”
“I’ll do it for free, I just wanna wear her crochet, please.”
“I love her a lot!”
Allison laughed, deeply. “Gawd, I never knew this day would co—ahhhhh!!” She ended her word with a scream, cos in her park, there’s an unknown custom-made car.
Gold color. Rare. Dazzling.
“Who the—”
Tobias came down from her car, and her words died fast.
She went still like a robot, breaths seizing as he drew close.
“She’s not here!” She quickly said. “She went to her house already! Her new house at the new Palmers estate! Please don’t hurt me!”
Tobias stopped, turned around immediately and got back in his car, driving out smooth.
Allison went down, squatting and grabbing her chest.
“Omg!”
Across the street, Kimmy’s car perched on the road like a resting bird, and as Kimmy watched Allison outside her mansion, her hand went tight around her steering.
Time is running out.
—
[Seraphina’s Mansion]
The mansion stood elegantly with white stone exterior, softened by sapphire-tinted glass.
Climbing blue hydrangeas framed the entrance beautifully.
It wasn’t sprawling enough to rival billionaire estates, but every corner whispered refined luxury.
Tobias have stared at the mansion so damn hard he could draw labeled copies of the exterior.
After all, he has been sitting here for fifteen unforgiven hours now.
He got here at 9AM, now it’s 12AM.
Midnight.
He stayed in his car, every flicker of light from the dark sky a stab to his restless ribs.
He had’nt left.
Not once.
His car engine had long gone cold, and empty whiskey bottles littered the passenger seat.
He has been drinking.
His phone rested in his palm, the screen illuminating his exhausted face as he pressed her contact again.
Calling…
Ringing…
Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
He ended the call and started another one immediately, his thumb trembling with a crazy desperation he would have slaughtered another man for displaying.
“Pick up…” he whispered hoarsely.
The call died again.
She didn’t pick.
He dragged both hands through his hair so violently that several strands caught between his fingers.
God.
This silence is carving him open.
He looked toward the mansion for what had to be the thousandth time, watching another room sink into darkness while another glowed alive.
He knows she’s in there, existing only a few dozen feet away.
So close, yet impossibly unreachable.
Every instinct in him screamed at him to climb the gate, kick the front door open, storm upstairs and drag her into his arms until she stopped hating him.
He could do that, and no one could stop him, but he knew exactly what that would earn him.
It’ll earn him another wall, and give her another reason for her to look at him with disappointment.
So he stayed outside, waiting for when she’d be comfortable and forgiving enough to open the door.
Hour after miserable hour, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, squeezing his eyes shut until they burned. His chest felt too tight, every breath scraping against something raw inside him.
“I deserve this,” he muttered desolately in the empty car. “I know I do…” A bitter laugh escaped him before dying just as quickly. “But, Sera… don’t shut me out.”
His grip on the steering turned brutal, the muscles in his forearm pulling tight
He didn’t even notice when evening became night.
The only thing his mind sees right now is the house before him and the woman inside it.
Every passing minute twisted deeper into obsession and guilt.
What if she never opened the door?
What if tomorrow came, and the next, and the next, and she decided life is easier if she just pretended he no longer existed?
He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel once, then again, twice more.
A broken sound escaped his throat as he buried his face in his palms, shoulders rising with uneven breaths as he fought the unfamiliar sting.
Inside the house, hidden behind the veil of white curtains in her bedroom, Seraphina stood still, her room lights brushed her face.
She watched him.
She saw him glance at his phone every few seconds, hoping it would light up with her name.
She saw him lean back with hollow eyes, only to sit forward again as if staying still hurt too much.
She saw him gripping the steering wheel so tightly his hands trembled.
The First Man of Odium is losing his mind outside her gate.
The man who controls souls and minds and lives and insane wealth was waiting on her.
The man who kills without blinking, sheds blood without thinking, tears people apart and laughs while doing it…he’s out there.
It might sound weird, but she had wanted him to come in and explain everything Yalda explained.
She wants to hear it from his mouth and see him feel guilt and faulty.
But he’s out there, and she doesn’t even know how to function in here.
What should she do?
Her phone rang in her hand again, and she thought of not picking again like she has been doing, but she couldn’t ignore again.
She picked, and she saw how his head left his steering outside in his car, slowly, as if he doesn’t believe she actually picked his call.
“Sera?” He sounded too low for his usual dominant and alpha mood.
She held her breaths, then his next words undid her.
“I miss you badly, Anathema. Can I come in? Please say yes. I need to see your face before i lose the little mind I have left. Please…”
TBC.
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