As the hours passed and the house settled into its deep, silent slumber, Lucas remained wide awake, the vivid images of his dream playing on a loop in his mind. The thrill of it all—the fear, the blood, the absolute power he had felt—was intoxicating. He didn't want it to end, didn't want to return to the mundane act of pretending to be normal.
The guest room, with its pristine decor and impersonal atmosphere, felt suffocating in its perfection. It was too neat, too orderly, a stark contrast to the chaos he craved. Lucas smirked, a dark, twisted grin, as he imagined what it would be like to tear this place apart, to see the sterile calm shattered by his hands. But he held back, knowing he couldn't risk drawing attention. Not yet.
He wandered over to the small window and yanked the curtains open, letting the pale moonlight flood the room. The darkness outside called to him, whispering promises of freedom, of the exhilaration that only came when he allowed himself to be truly unhinged. He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, his breath fogging up the window as he imagined slipping out into the night, leaving behind the suffocating facade of normalcy.
Turning away from the window, Lucas's thoughts drifted to Dimitri. That pitiful look on his face when he had come to check on him—Lucas had seen it before. The desperate need to be close, to feel important. Dimitri was like a lost puppy, always hovering, always waiting for scraps of attention. It made Lucas sick. But it also made him laugh.
He could sense Dimitri's obsession, the way his eyes lingered, full of unspoken longing. Lucas knew he had power over him, a cruel, delicious power.
Lucas found himself chuckling softly, the sound low and mocking. Dimitri was nothing more than a toy, a tool to be used and discarded when he got bored. And the more Dimitri clung to him, the more Lucas wanted to torment him, to see just how deep that obsession ran.
As he lay back down on the bed, Lucas's grin widened. The darkness within him was growing, feeding off the fear and the lies he spun. He closed his eyes, knowing that sleep wouldn't come, but welcoming the darkness nonetheless. It was where he truly belonged, where he could be himself without the chains of morality holding him back.
And as the house slept around him, Lucas reveled in the knowledge that he could hold all the power.
But then, as he lay in the stillness, an image of Dimitri flashed through his mind again, unbidden and unrelenting. The thought of those desperate eyes, that unyielding devotion, gnawed at him. It was as though Dimitri's very existence was a silent challenge, daring him to come closer, to push further. The more Lucas tried to ignore it, the stronger the pull became.
He sighed, a low, frustrated sound, and threw off the covers. Sleep was impossible now, not with that incessant itch in his mind. He needed to see him again, to remind himself, to revel in the twisted game they were about to play. The mansion was quiet as he slipped out of bed, the only sounds those of his own footsteps as he padded through the dimly lit corridors.
The house was a maze of shadows and silence, its vast halls echoing with the faint creaks and groans of settling wood. Lucas moved like a ghost, his pale skin almost luminescent in the low light, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he made his way down the grand staircase.
As he passed through the foyer and into the dining room, the sight of the long, grand table caught his eye. It was set with an array of food—plates of fruit, cold meats, and freshly baked bread, all laid out with meticulous care and covered with a clear glass. A small, folded note sat beside the feast, the words "For when you're ready" scrawled in elegant handwriting.
Lucas barely glanced at it, making no attempt to eat. The food held no appeal to him, not now. His hunger was of a different kind, a deeper, more insidious craving that no amount of fine dining could satisfy. He brushed the note aside and continued on, his mind fixed on one thing.
The mansion was vast, but Lucas knew the way. His steps were slow and quiet, his senses attuned to every creak and whisper of the old house as he navigated the darkened corridors. The anticipation built with each step, a tight coil of excitement winding within him. He wondered what he would find when he saw Dimitri again—would he be asleep, vulnerable and unaware? Or would he be awake, waiting, just as desperate as Lucas was?
But as he approached Dimitri's room, a faint sound caught his attention. Low voices, murmuring in the darkness, drifting from behind a partially closed door further down the hall. Lucas paused, his curiosity piqued. It wasn't uncommon for a mansion to hold secrets, to hide shadows where whispers lingered. But this… this was new.
He hesitated, torn between the urge to continue to Dimitri and the pull of the voices. The air felt charged, thick with an energy that set his nerves on edge. With a slight tilt of his head, Lucas turned away from Dimitri's door and moved toward the source of the sound, his steps careful, deliberate.
Lucas's hand hovered over the door, his heartbeat quickening with the thrill of the unknown. He was just about to push it open when he heard a voice that made him freeze—Dimitri's voice, laced with anger, sharp and biting. It was a tone Lucas hadn't heard before, so different from the usual meekness that clung to Dimitri like a shadow. His curiosity flared, pushing aside his initial plan to confront Dimitri.
Instead, Lucas leaned in closer, peering through the narrow crack in the door. The room beyond was dimly lit, the shadows playing tricks on his eyes, but he could just make out two figures. One of them was Dimitri, standing rigid with tension, his fists clenched at his sides. The other was a man—a stranger—whose presence seemed to fill the room with an almost tangible weight.
The man was tall and imposing, with a sharp, angular face that carried an air of ruthless authority. His dark hair was slicked back, accentuating his strong jawline, and a cigarette dangled lazily from his lips, the smoke curling up around his chiseled features. His suit was impeccably tailored, fitting him like a glove, the dark fabric a stark contrast against the pale light filtering through the room. Everything about him screamed control, power—a young lord who commanded respect with just a glance.
---
Lucas's curiosity piqued as he listened through the door, catching snippets of the conversation. The man's voice was smooth but indifferent, as if he were discussing something trivial.
The man began, his tone casual yet cutting, "Why are you still wasting your time here? You know this isn't where you belong. Father's ready to forgive your little rebellion and bring you back."
Dimitri's response was quieter, the frustration in his voice subdued. "Tobias, this is my life now. I'm trying to find something... something that's mine."
Tobias sighed, exhaling smoke from his cigarette as if the conversation bored him. "You're clinging to a dream, Dimitri. Crestwood isn't your salvation; it's your exile. You think staying here makes you independent, but all it does is keep you out of my way to succeed faster."
Dimitri's shoulders slumped slightly, his voice softening with each word. "It's not about Father or you brother.It's about me. I need to do this for myself."
Tobias's eyes flickered with mild annoyance but a dark chuckle filled the small space, his words taking on a sharper edge. "Do what, exactly? Play house in this backwater town? You've always been chasing something you can't grasp. Father's offering you a chance to come back, to be part of the family again. But instead, you're here, running away."
Dimitri looked down, his fists clenching at his sides. "I'm not running away. I'm just... I don't want to go back to how things were."
Tobias sighed ,the sound more dismissive than cruel. "Things won't change just because you wish they would. You think you're making a stand here, but all you're doing is delaying the inevitable. Father's patience isn't endless. Sooner or later, you'll have to face reality and come home."
Dimitri's eyes shimmered with a sadness that Lucas could sense even from behind the door. He heard the faint tremor in Dimitri's voice as he replied, "Why do you care so much? If I'm just a burden, why bother?"
Tobias's tone became almost pitying. "Don't get me wrong Dimitri ,It's not about caring. It's about doing what needs to be done. Father wants you back, and I'm here to make sure that happens. But don't fool yourself into thinking I want you there. I don't. You've always been... well, more trouble than you're worth."
Tobias continued , his eyes never leaving Dimitri. He took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with deliberate calmness, as if considering his next words carefully.
"You know, even if you did come back, things wouldn't be any different," Tobias said, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. "Father might forgive you, might even pretend to welcome you back into the fold. But let's be honest, Dimitri—you'll always be in my shadow."
Dimitri's shoulders tensed, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. He didn't reply, but the way he stared at the floor betrayed the turmoil inside him.
Tobias continued, his tone growing more cutting with each word. "You think you can escape that? You've always been the second choice, the backup plan. The one who never quite measured up. No matter what you do, I'll be the one to inherit everything. The business, the estates ,the legacy—it's all mine. And you? You're just... there."
Dimitri finally looked up, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Why are you saying this, Tobias? Why do you always have to tear me down?"
Tobias smirked, a cruel twist to his lips. "Because it's the truth, Dimitri. And deep down, you know it. You've always known it. You're useless. Worthless. A disappointment. You've spent your whole life trying to prove you're something more, but you're not. You never were anything but a psychotic little freak and father will realize it someday."
Dimitri's face crumpled, his pain evident in every line of his expression. Tobias's words hit their mark, each one cutting deeper than the last. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His breath hitched, and he quickly looked away, ashamed of the tears that threatened to spill over.
Tobias, seeing the effect of his words, pressed on, his voice softer now, patronizing. "Even if you came back, you'd be nothing more than an afterthought. A reminder of failure. Always the one who wasn't good enough. And that's the real reason you stay here, isn't it? Because you know, deep down, that there's no place for you back home."
Dimitri's head hung low, his spirit crushed under the weight of Tobias's words. He didn't have the strength to argue anymore, to defend himself against the truth he'd been trying so hard to avoid. The truth that no matter what he did, he would always be second to Tobias. Always the lesser son.
As the argument reached its peak, Lucas felt an unfamiliar sensation twisting within him—a visceral, almost uncontrollable dislike for Tobias. It was a feeling he couldn't fully understand but couldn't ignore either. The more Tobias belittled Dimitri, the stronger Lucas's sense of disdain became. It was as if Tobias's presence was a direct affront to something deep within Lucas, stirring a primal, murderous urge he struggled to contain.
Lucas's grip tightened on the doorframe, his knuckles white. He could feel a dark, dangerous energy bubbling up inside him, fueled by Tobias's arrogance and condescension. The man's very existence seemed to threaten Lucas's sense of control, igniting a fierce, irrational hatred.
The argument ended with Tobias delivering a final, cold remark before walking out of the room, leaving Dimitri alone in the oppressive silence. Lucas remained hidden, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts. The hatred coursing through him was almost palpable, a raw, burning sensation that left him reeling.
He moved away quickly from the door until he heard Tobias's footsteps fading away.Lucas pushed open the door just enough to slip into the room, his mind racing with a murderous clarity.
Inside the room, Dimitri stood hunched, his back to Lucas, desperately trying to compose himself. The soft, tortured sobs he had tried to stifle filled the air, mingling with the sharp scent of fear. Lucas took a moment to observe Dimitri, noting the way his shoulders shook and the redness of his eyes—a striking contrast to the composed exterior he had tried to maintain.
Lucas felt a dark feeling begin to bubble again.thrill at the sight of Dimitri's distress. Seeing someone like Dimitri, who usually exuded so much control, so thoroughly undone by someone other than him ....well that angered him beyond belief.
When Dimitri finally turned to face him, his eyes widened in surprise. He quickly wiped his face, trying to mask his tears, but the effort was in vain. His voice was raw and strained as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure. "How long have you been here?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion.
Lucas's gaze was cold and unyielding. "Long enough," he replied, his tone carrying an edge of finality.
Without waiting for a response, Lucas strode over to Dimitri and firmly guided him to a nearby chair. He sat down, pulling Dimitri down beside him with an unspoken command. The act was almost casual, yet it carried an unmistakable weight of control. Dimitri's eyes flickered with a mix of confusion and reluctance as he complied, his body sinking into the chair with a defeated sigh.
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words. Lucas studied Dimitri, his expression inscrutable. The room seemed to shrink around them, the tension almost palpable as Dimitri sat there, caught between his emotions and Lucas's unrelenting presence.Dimitri finally broke the heavy silence, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet cutting through the stillness with a sharp edge. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his eyes meeting Lucas's with a mix of desperation and accusation. "I know you hate me."
Lucas's laugh was sudden and harsh, a cruel sound that cut through the quiet. His eyes narrowed at Dimitri as f he was foolish."Shut the fuck up," Lucas spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Is that really what you should be caring about right now."
He leaned in close, his gaze intense and unrelenting.Lucas's moved his hand to hold Dimitri's face,his grip firm as he brushed his thumb roughly against Dimitri's cheek. "Are you a fucking pussy, Dimitri? Is that what you are? Weak, fragile, and utterly useless?Are you a broken toy needing daddy to fix you."
He wiped a tear from Dimitri's cheek with a mocking gentleness. "You think Tobias is cruel? He's a saint compared to me and he's the one that has you crying and weak.Just know it's me.... I'm the one who you should be afraid of,show you how worthless you truly are. And every second you sit here, crying, just makes me enjoy this more."
Dimitri flinched at the harshness of Lucas's words, his face flushing with a mix of humiliation and anger. Lucas leaned in closer, his face inches from Dimitri's, the smile on his lips a predatory twist.
"I like seeing you like this," Lucas said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "You look so beautiful when you're broken. It's like you're finally showing your true self, the one you try so hard to hide and I'll make sure ,you know that feeling well."
The words were a cruel, deliberate assault, each one designed to dig deeper into Dimitri's wounds. Lucas finally released him leaning back in the chair, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched Dimitri's struggle.
Finally, Lucas allowed his smile to widen, the expression a blend of satisfaction and twisted pleasure. The darkness within him felt momentarily sated, and he savored the moment of control he had over Dimitri.
The room fell into a suffocating silence after that , the air thick with tension. Dimitri, slumped in the chair, trembled under Lucas's oppressive presence. The silence stretched out, each second feeling like an eternity as Dimitri's eyes flickered weakly toward Lucas, who remained still and silent, his gaze unwavering.
Dimitri, feeling the crushing pressure of Lucas's stare, finally broke. His voice strained.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I am pathetic. But at least I'm not the one who gets off on tormenting someone who's already down."
As Dimitri finished speaking, he hesitated to look up. When he finally met Lucas's gaze, his heart nearly stopped. Lucas's smile had vanished, replaced by a cold, emotionless stare. His eyes were icy and unfeeling, staring at Dimitri with an intensity that was both chilling and unnerving. It was as though Lucas had become a hollow, dark void, devoid of warmth or compassion.
The silence between them was deafening, and Dimitri's breath quickened, his fear escalating. He could feel the weight of Lucas's gaze like a physical force pressing down on him. For the first time, Dimitri felt a raw, primal fear that gripped his very soul.
Without a word, Lucas's expression hardened. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Dimitri's face with a fierce, crushing grip. Dimitri's eyes widened in shock and terror as Lucas's fingers dug into his skin, holding him in place. The intensity in Lucas's eyes was terrifying—there was no trace of the earlier mockery, only a cold, unyielding menace.Lucas remained eerily calm as he held Dimitri's face, his grip unyielding. Dimitri struggled against him, his breaths coming in panicked, shallow gasps. Lucas's eyes were void of emotion, focused solely on the task at hand. He noted the pillow on the chair beside them, a perfect instrument for his cruel intent.
Without a change in his steady demeanor, Lucas took the pillow and pressed it down hard onto Dimitri's face. Dimitri's muffled cries grew frantic as he tried to push the pillow away, his hands clawing at Lucas's grip in a desperate bid for air. The pressure of the pillow against his face made it nearly impossible for him to breathe, and the room seemed to close in on him, the darkness amplifying his suffocating panic.
Lucas, still calm and detached, watched with a cold fascination. The more Dimitri struggled, the more Lucas's expression remained an unsettling mask of indifference. He let the pillow press down heavily, savoring the moment and the power he wielded over Dimitri's life.
Finally, when Dimitri's movements grew weaker and his struggles began to falter, Lucas removed the pillow with deliberate slowness. Dimitri gasped for breath, his face red and wet with sweat and tears. Lucas's eyes remained cold as he looked down at him.
"So desperate and weak. It's too pathetic. You really think you deserve anything but this life?" He let out a soft, mocking chuckle. "This is what you are, Dimitri—a little plaything for my amusement. And right now, you're nothing more than a reminder of what happens to those who try to pretend they're something they're not."
With that, Lucas let go of a now sobbing Dimitri, his expression now a mix of cruel satisfaction and cold detachment. The room fell back into a heavy silence, the echo of his words hanging in the air, as Dimitri lay there, gasping for air and trying to recover from the ordeal.
Lucas's eyes drifted to Dimitri, who lay slumped in the chair, his lips cracked and bleeding from the struggle. A drop of blood caught Lucas's attention, and something dark flickered in his gaze. Without hesitation, he reached out, brushing his thumb against the wound. The blood smeared across his fingers, and with a slow, deliberate movement, he brought his hand to his mouth, sucking the blood from his thumb.
"Sweet," he murmured, the word dripping with a twisted kind of satisfaction.
Then, as if compelle