Sinister Obsession | 18+

|11| Deep Crimson.

Saint

I wonder what shade of red his blood would be if I threw this knife right into his eyes. Would it be a deep crimson, or a sickly shade of red?

Seated at the grand dining table, I feel the tension between the Beaumonts and the Donatis. The atmosphere is charged, with each side watching the other closely. Cassio Donati, accompanied by his brother Killian, sits directly across from me.

Cassio, always the pain in my ass, decides to sit himself right across from me at the table. I only agreed to attend to this dinner with my presence because Rai insisted, secretly hoping that Cassio would have better things to do. But of course, fate has a twisted sense of humor.

As im seated across from him, I couldn't help but feel small in comparison to his large figure. A fucking skyscraper with legs.

He saunters in like he fucking owns the place, not even bothering with pleasantries, as if my home is his personal playground. It's enough to make me want to toss my plate at his smug face, but I reign in the urge.

For now.

I keep my gaze fixed on my plate, feigning interest in my food, but I can practically feel Cassio's intense stare boring into the back of my skull. It's a power play, pure and simple, but I refuse to let him intimidate me. Not tonight.

"Remember, Saint, the journey towards healing begins with the courage to confront your demons."

I reluctantly lift my gaze, locking eyes with his infuriatingly pitch-black orbs. What does he see when he looks at me?

Probably those damn codes he kept blabbering about at the Vendetta Gala. I've never even heard of underworld secrets hidden in codes before.

Since then, I haven't bothered to look into them or do any research, but the curiosity still gnaws at me.
What the hell does he want them for anyway?

My father's sudden interruption breaks the tension between Cassio and me. "Cassio," he begins, his voice commanding attention. Cassio slowly shifts his gaze to my father, waiting for his next words.

"I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here tonight, though I must confess, I didn't expect your presence," my father remarks, his gaze steady.

Cassio leans back in his chair, "Likewise," he replies, his voice low and chilling, his eyes locked onto my father's, his hand idly tracing his chin.

I cross my fingers that this gathering doesn't go up in fucking flames.

My hate for the Donatis runs deep, a legacy inherited from generations past and fueled by my own experiences. My father and Adamo Donati, Cassio and Killian's father, were never on the best of terms.

Adamo was always painted as a demon, notorious for his troublemaking and ruthless nature. He was a traitor, a manipulator, and disloyal, even to his wife, or so I've heard. After his sudden death tho, which was very shocking and unexpected, Cassio became even a bigger threat than Adamo could've ever been.

Cassio Donati is the devils himself.

Since then I've been given the job of taking out Cassio Donati seven times by my old man. Each time, it's felt more and more personal.

I lean back in my chair, glancing over at my father, who conveniently avoids meeting my eyes. "I've been hearing you've been working non-stop for the past few days," he remarks, his tone laced with curiosity.