Whispers Of Chaos

| 25. 𝑺𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆

Suicide, baby, it's the worst
Think about the people that you'll hurt
They won't even care about the things I'll choose to do
Because all I am is all that I've been through
~ suicide, Isaac Dunbar

Chapter 25. Suicide

"Selena, stop right there," Theodore's voice echoed through the room, a command that sought to halt the unsettling storm in its tracks.

She stood defiant in her red dress. Hayate and Big Brother, like loyal shadows, had trailed her back home, silent witnesses to the impending confrontation.

"Don't you think you owe us an explanation," Theodore's words hissed through the charged atmosphere. The frustration that simmered beneath the surface bubbled forth, a volatile mix of pent-up anger and unresolved questions.

"I don't think so," Selena's response was as sharp as a blade, her tone carrying a rudeness that cut through the air.

Theodore's eyes narrowed, the frustration etched into the furrow of his brow. His daughter, an enigma wrapped in defiance, had always held her past close to her chest.

He had respected the boundaries she set and granted her the space she needed to cope. But the silence, the walls she erected, had become an insurmountable barrier.

"I need answers," he declared. The frustration now bubbled into raw anger. His outstretched finger pointed at Liliana, Samuel, and Maxim, the collective demand for truth cutting through the room like a serrated edge.

"We all deserve an answer. What is going on?"

Selena's sigh carried the weight of unspoken burdens, a weary exhale that revealed the internal struggles she fought to conceal. Opening up was a prospect she loathed, and the mere thought grated on her nerves.

She was calm with calculated decisiveness-an armor she donned to shield herself from the vulnerability of unveiling her past.

Yet, in the presence of Mariano members, an inexplicable unraveling occurred within her. The fabric of her self-control seemed to fray when confronted by those with the Mariano name, leaving her questioning the origin of this uncharacteristic vulnerability.

She felt guilty-not just for the lies she spun but for the inexplicable resistance to sharing the truth. A sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach, a gnawing feeling that questioned the motives behind her guarded nature.

But why? Why did she find it challenging to bear her soul to those she ostensibly considered family?

"Shush, little one," Big Brother's voice cut through the turmoil, his hand enveloping hers, unclenching the fingers that had tightly gripped each other.

"You are hurting yourself," he spoke, his words gentle, his voice smooth as he massaged the reddened crescent imprinted by her fingers.

Theodore's gaze bore into the scene before him, a storm of conflicting emotions churning in his eyes. Envy and frustration mingled, forming a potent cocktail that fueled the intensity of his stare.

The sight of Lazarev holding Selena's hand-providing a comfort he had never offered gnawed at Theodore's soul.

"Leave her hand, Anton," he hissed, each word laden with a resentment that seeped through the strained timbre of his voice. The request was more than a mere desire for physical separation; it was a plea that carried the weight of unspoken yearning.

Theodore resented the fact that he had never been the one to offer solace, to cradle his daughter's hand in moments of vulnerability.

His attempts to connect with Selena had always hit the impenetrable walls she erected around herself. No matter how earnestly he sought to understand her, his daughter remained a puzzle, her soft eyes reserved for others while withholding that tender trust from him.