It was already night when Damien reached the mansion. He sneaked onto the estate under the cover of darkness and walked his way up to the front door, where the lights were still on.
Knock
Knock
The person who opened the door was none other than Victor. His face seemed to lack vigor.
"Who are you?"
He asked in a flat tone, looking half ready to shut the door in his face.
"Oh, don't tell me you don't recognize me. 'You breaking mi poor ole heart.'"
Victor's hands balled into fists.
"I don't have the patience for your nonsense, whoever you are. I suggest you leave while you still can."
"You really don't remember me? After all we've been through? Don't tell me you've only been using me for my body."
Victor's eyes widened in realization. That condescending smirk, the obscene language, it was unmistakable.
"Luca—"
