Nero - Revenge never tasted better

Chapiter 19: The fake smiles (Part 2)

Swaying unsteadily on my feet, I struggled to process the unfolding events. "What?" I mumbled, grappling to form coherent words.

But he persisted, his tone firm as he pressed for details, shock evolving into realization and a strange kind of excitement. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? It is my legacy you are carrying I should have been informed!"

My mind was a fog, thoughts slipping through my fingers like elusive sand. His concern swiftly transformed into anger as he scolded me for jeopardizing our baby with my reckless drinking.

I couldn't help but scoff inwardly at his audacity, assuming the baby was undoubtedly his. In his mind, I was incapable of straying, and no one could possibly rival his dashingly irresistible charm. How pitifully deluded he was. If only he knew...

He guided me to a seat, assuring me that everything would be okay now. Instructing Andhorra to fetch some pills to clear the alcohol haze and avert a potential hangover, I found myself in a daze, struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions and revelations. Hell, I could barely recall my own name.

As he left to procure water, emphasizing that I should stay put, I was momentarily left alone, and the weight of the situation gradually sank in. Andhorra had inadvertently spilled my secret, and I knew it was just a matter of time before Nicodemo learned of it from Thomas. Panic surged through me, amplified by the alcohol coursing through my veins. Nicodemo wouldn't tolerate the disgrace of losing my virginity before marriage; he'd have me killed.

My intoxicated state heightened my paranoia, and the room felt like it was closing in on me. I couldn't breathe, and escape became imperative. NOW. It was my sole chance for survival.

Stumbling to my feet, I used the wall for support, attempting to make a discreet exit. My movements were clumsy, my determination to flee Crimson Hollow and elude Nicodemo's grasp fuelled by adrenaline.

As I passed through the entrance door, I could hear Thomas realizing that I was gone and calling out after me with a mix of worry and frustration. But I ignored his calls, determined to get as far away as possible.

Shutting the door behind me, I continued to walk, my feet moving on autopilot. My brain, clouded by alcohol, could barely form coherent thoughts. All I knew was that I had to keep moving.

I walked aimlessly, my surroundings a blur. The streets of Crimson Hollow stretched out before me, and I stumbled forward, my body and mind disconnected. Panic and exhaustion warred within me, but I couldn't stop. I had to keep going.

Time lost all meaning as I meandered through the shadowed streets, but my feet effortlessly guided me to a familiar destination. Before I realized it, I stood before Aiyden's abode in the den. My thoughts were a tangled mess, and my body groaned with fatigue.

I weakly knocked on the door, but in my drunken and exhausted state, staying upright proved a challenge. As seconds ticked by, I found myself sinking to the ground, my head finding an uncomfortable rest against the dilapidated wooden pillar of the porch—well, if we can even call it that.

Minutes later, the door creaked open, and In-Jae's eyes widened in surprise at the pitiful sight before her. She rushed forward, delicately hoisting me from the ground and providing support as she guided me inside.

In the kitchen, she settled me into a seat, concern etched on her face. "What happened, Nero?" she inquired, her voice laced with worry.

I attempted to respond, but my slurred speech turned my words into a linguistic masterpiece only decipherable to the intoxicated elite. In-Jae chuckled softly, assuming my eloquence was a result of an excessive soirée in the world of spirits.