I watched intently as the old man swirled his glass, the amber liquid inside catching the dim light of the room. With a practiced motion, he brought it to his nose, took a sip, and a victorious smirk crept onto his weathered face.
"You swore never to set foot here," he reminded me, my gaze unwavering as I held his stare, waiting for his response.
"You insisted on signing the papers here," I retorted, not breaking eye contact as he let out a small, wry laugh.
"True, true," he conceded, setting down the glass before reaching for the papers I had brought with me. "Your uncles are about to tear down the house. I doubt I'll have a peaceful night's rest at this rate."
"And I assure you, I wouldn't give them a peaceful day either. What have you and your grandkids been up to?" I inquired casually, picking up the pen beside me. I noticed a subtle stiffness in his posture.
"Um, nothing much. How's Carmela?" he asked, trying to shift the conversation away from any uncomfortable topics.
"She's fine," I replied, my tone cool. "Tell Luna to stop whatever she's doing." I scoffed, the implication hanging in the air, and saw him stare at me with a mix of surprise and concern.
"Telling the media that Carmela is my girlfriend wouldn't ensure her safety, but put her in more trouble," I stated matter-of-factly, picking up the documents that had brought me here. With a nod, I made my way towards the exit, intent on leaving this uncomfortable encounter behind me. Yet fate seemed to have other plans, as I walked straight into my four uncles, or as I preferred to call them, the foolish wolf pack.
"Who do we have here?" my fourth uncle sneered, but I ignored his taunt, focused on making my exit. However, it seemed they weren't keen on letting me leave so easily.
"He swore never to set foot here, yet here he is. I wonder how he plans on ruining AN Group... after all, a son of a driver would always remain the son of a driver— all talk and no action," my so-called uncle mocked, the words cutting through the air like a blade. I halted in my tracks, my temper flaring as I turned to face them.
"A house, you call this?" I challenged, my voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I may be young and inexperienced, as you all claim, but even I know this isn't what a home looks like—crowded and devoid of any real privacy. You should call it what it truly is, a hotel, where you've all decided against having your own roofs, content to live under your father's roof with your families, without an ounce of shame."
"Watch your words, boy," my first uncle growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"A driver's son, you call me?" I continued, feeling the heat of anger coursing through my veins. "Well, this driver's son has achieved more than all four of you combined ever have in your entire lives. So, you better watch your tongues when speaking to me."
"At least you admit to being the son of that gutter rat who stained the legacy of my father by deceiving my sister," my second uncle interjected, his words dripping with venom.
"The same sister you all brutally murdered?" I shot back, my fists clenched at my sides. "I, Nix Dean, would never deny the fact of being the son of Nathan Dean. You call my father a gutter rat, but he is the reason you all still have your heads attached to your bodies." I scoffed coldly, not breaking eye contact with my first uncle.
"What was it you call yourselves? High-class society," I mocked, the bitterness evident in my tone. "You claim to belong to the high-class society, yet you remain ignorant of the true figures of the so-called elite."
The vibration of my phone suddenly interrupted the tense atmosphere, and a brilliant smile spread across my face.
"I'll leave you all to your worthless lives, dear uncles," I declared victoriously, resuming my steps towards the exit. The air crackled with tension as I made my way out, leaving behind the echoes of our heated exchange.
I parked my car at the front of the rusty steel gate, and a rush of unpleasant memories flooded my mind. Memories not truly unpleasant, but reminders of a past I desperately wished to forget. The metal groaned as the gate opened, revealing the warehouse before me, a sight both familiar and haunting.
All twenty members of the prestigious AN group were on their knees, practically begging for my attention. It was almost comical, and I fought the urge to laugh.
"Lieutenant, what shall we do with them?" My right-hand man approached, and I tilted my head, contemplating how to handle these relics of the past. Taking a seat on the worn couch, I gestured towards the board members.
"Remove their blindfolds," I sighed, picking up a pen from my jacket pocket. "Finally, a proper AN group board meeting, wouldn't you agree? I've even provided you all with number badges for our voting on the next AN group president."
Leisurely twirling the pen, I continued, "Should anyone oppose my presidency, please, feel free to object." My hand slipped into my jacket pocket, retrieving a gun that I calmly placed on the table before us.
"Board member eight, choose wisely. Remember, even if you manage to escape me, your father-in-law and wife won't be so forgiving." I flashed them a gentle smile. "Now, those against me, rise."
"I wholeheartedly accept you as our president!" They chorused, relief evident on their faces. A smirk tugged at my lips.
"Truly? Not because I hold your family hostage or threaten your secrets?" I raised an eyebrow, and they shook their heads fervently.
"Very well, in light of my good mood, I'll release you and your families. But remember, never cross me." I warned softly before making my way to the exit.
"Ah, one more thing..." I paused, turning to face my loyal men. "Your services are no longer required." With a swift motion, I dispatched the spy sent by those who had set my house ablaze. The board members trembled, and I reassured them, "As long as you stay in my good graces, you needn't fear."
As I settled into my car, a glance in the rearview mirror revealed a chilling sight—my reflection, grinning back at me. While I looked back at it with a sigh.
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked, meeting the wild gaze of my alter ego.
"Somewhat. Though not as much as before, it's bearable," it replied with a manic grin.
"Did the one I shot notice?" It inquired, exasperated.
"With your verbosity? Undoubtedly. But now, let me be,"I retorted just to see him refuse.
"Why?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Since leaving that mental hospital, you've kept me caged. I am a part of you that craves freedom," he whined.
"If you stop driving me to madness at the sight of blood, perhaps I'll consider it," I bargained, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.
"Fair enough. I trust you to keep your word. But first, let me see her," he pleaded, a hint of desperation in its voice.
"Who?" I asked warily, dreading the answer.
"Carmela. You've called her beloved, and if I am you and you are me, then she is also my beloved," he explained eagerly.
"Showing her who I truly am would send her running," I cautioned.
"Just a glimpse, then I'll retreat," he promised, eyes shining with longing.
Frustration coursed through me at this side of myself that was revealed in violence and now professed love. Could it be genuine, or was it a trick of the mind?
"She might truly run away if I go besker" I reasoned, starting the engine.
"I'll risk it," it insisted, a fervent hope in its eyes.
As the car roared to life, I wondered what awaited me whether the love
he spoke of, madness, or a precarious balance of both as I navigated the shadows within.
The road stretched out like a dark ribbon, empty, humming beneath the tires. I could almost hear the night breathe.
"She won't sleep tonight," I murmured to the windshield. "Not until I return… and yet, she never really sleeps, does she?"
My fingers tapped the steering wheel, restless. Always waiting. Always watching.
"You think I don't see it, don't you?" I exhaled sharply, eyes fixed ahead. "The way you pull at me. The way you whisper when it's quiet like this."
A laugh escaped me dry, and humorless. "Carmela doesn't know that part of me. Not yet. She thinks I'm just… Nix. But you.." my gaze flicked to the mirror, "you've been here longer than anyone."
The streetlights cut through the dark, one by one, each one feeling like a countdown.
"I wonder," I whispered, "what happens the day she meets you… face to face. Will she stay? Or will she run?"
Silence. Only the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of my heart.
"She wouldn't understand," I muttered finally, "but maybe… maybe she's the only one who could."