Czar kicks Kayros in the sleek black limo and closes the door with a loud thud. The driver starts driving without even saying anything.
Kayros's grip on his phone is tight—too tight—before he throws it in the car angrily, causing the phone to bounce back. Czar facepalms at his best friend's outburst, which he saw coming the moment he saw Kayros spotting Ophelia and Vincent together.
"What were you going to say there, Kay?" Czar gives side eyes to Kayros, who is biting his inner mouth too hard, the corners of his eyes red and stormy.
"He was touching her wrist."
"Vincent is Ophelia's boyfr—"
"SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!" Kayros growls dangerously, his shoulder trembling with emotions he rarely lets anyone see. Czar inhales sharply as the car moves smoothly along the gloomy streets of London.
Kayros throws his head back, his nails digging into his knees, his Adam's apple bobbing with madness and something even more dangerous. Inside the limo, other than the soft hum of the engine and his ragged breathing, no other sound echoes.
Czar turns his head carefully to Kayros. "Kay, you need to stop. Ophelia has rejected you. And it was your fault too. I mean—"
"She is fucking seven years younger than me. Do you expect me to show this side of me to someone who has no idea how dirty the world is?"
Kayros points his trembling finger at himself, his silver hair disheveled, his mask of calmness and composure all gone once he is alone with Czar.
Czar has seen this side of Kayros many times, and every one of those outbursts is related to only one person… Ophelia Blackwood. Secret obsession of Kayros Natheniel, who is feared and admired all at once.
"You are ruining yourself in this madness." Czar's careful words make Kayros chuckle bitterly. His gaze on the sidewalk of London's busy city life is unfazed, yet madness lives underneath that mask of composure.
"I was ruined by her since the day she reached out her hands to me when I was desperately hiding away from the world."
Czar's face softens a bit. Kayros touches his left wrist unconsciously and whispers lowly, "If only she had just waited a few more years…"
---
Back in the boutique, Vincent's wounds are dressed by the staff. Elosia's eyes are red from crying and sniffing. Ophelia remains standing calmly, unlike anyone expected.
Inside the private room, full of exclusive, luxurious fabrics from the top craftsmen across the world, everything is arranged neatly based on color and pattern. Walls made of wood catching the light of the chandelier add a different dimension to the tension.
Vincent's intense gaze turns to Ophelia. "Aren't you going to say something?"
Ophelia blinks blankly, her beautiful face looking almost like a lifeless painting of a painter whose art has gone through so much tragedy that she has forgotten how to feel emotions.
"What should I say?" she asks flatly, yet her hands itch to grab his arms and shake him to get answers, answers to why she was betrayed and since when he and Elosia have been using her.
"I got hurt because of your soon-to-be brother-in-law, Ophy!" Vincent's voice shakes slightly with a hint of vulnerability, which once used to make Ophelia get on her knees and do anything for him.
"You jumped on Czar first, Vincent."
Elosia parts her lips in shock. Vincent stills; his act of pain and vulnerability drops just slightly.
Ophelia calmly sips her tea, unhurried, untouched by the chaos. Her plumpy red lips distract Vincent visibly, but he doesn't give in.
"Baby," he reaches his hand to cover Ophelia's hand, making her look down at their joined hands on her knees.
Once his touch used to make her go crazy. His kisses used to make her feel loved. Yet now, all she feels is chilling, venomous vengeance and a burning sense of cold agony.
"Are you mad at me for something? Baby, look at me." Vincent lifts her chin to meet his. Ophelia just stares at him without any expression, remembering how she used to hang on his words, looks, and softness.
A lump forms in her throat as memories crash in, but she swallows it down with a bitter chuckle. "Why would I be mad at you?" Her voice is slow, heavy with unsaid pain. Vincent's eyes flutter, pulling back his hand from her chin.
"Then, why are you acting so distant?"
Elosia sees the interaction between Vincent and Ophelia with envy, her fist tightening around the teacup in her hand. If anyone sees it, it won't leave any doubt about her jealousy.
Ophelia parts her lips to say something, anything that might explain why Vincent never loved her despite everything she has done for him, why he was cheating on her, and why Elosia, not her!
But the sudden drop of a teacup from Elosia's hand draws Vincent's attention to her; she screams in pain as the hot tea falls on her lap. Vincent's eyes widen, and he rushes to Elosia, forgetting Ophelia.
His expression is visibly worried and frantic. "Hey, hey, are you okay?" He takes off his coat and instantly cleans her lap. Elosia is crying, her cheeks flushed. "It's burning a lot, Vin."
Vincent's face contorted in pain as he hugged her. "It's okay. Let me take you to the doctor."
Ophelia's slow blinking and stiffened posture go unnoticed by the man who once swore her the world. Her nail was digging in her flesh painfully.
Ophelia was blind back then, thinking Vincent was just protective of Elosia because Elosia was her best friend.
Her throat hurts from unspent tears and emotions. Vincent picks up Elosia in his arms, her head buried in the crook of his neck. Vincent gives a small smile to Ophelia. "Choose something for me, Ophy. I'll take Elosia to the hospital."
Ophelia watches them leave through the door, even though she said to herself she wouldn't care…
God, she cared…
She cared a lot about the guy with whom she once thought she would have the family she would have.
The door closes behind Vincent and Elosia. Finally, Ophelia exhales the breath she was holding.
Her mouth feels bitter, just like her heart. Hollow in her chest, too heavy.
Her first love never wanted her back.
Her second love never loved her back.
And everything suddenly gets dark and silent around her.
"Get it together, Ophelia Blackwood," she whispers to herself. "You are all alone. Don't waste your third life seeking love instead of revenge."
But even as she says it, deep down, Ophelia knows…
She just wants to be loved just once in her life. She looks at the medieval art on the wall, where a man burned down the entire city just for the sake of his lover.
Colors are vibrant, carrying the violence and obsession of a man who has the power to do things.
Ophelia just chuckles humorlessly.
"How nice it would be to have someone powerful loving you so much that he can burn down the world for you! In my case, I am the one who burned down cities for her love, only to get abandoned, betrayed, and killed."
.