Lost in a Reverie 18+ Only (Book 1 of Lastor Series) ['23/'24 EDIT]

Chapter 52: Frederick

It was like seeing a different person. Watching her like this. Something about her was both so ominous and mesmerizing.

She moved almost effortlessly, as if she floated along each step she took as we entered the daunting building made of glass. Their family's empire. I was immediately humbled.

She and her brother walked ahead of us. The Lastor Siblings. The future King and The Right Hand who wielded his sword. It was only now that it became undeniably clear to me, their rightful places. Beside each other, with the rest of the world either wilfully behind them or forcefully beneath them.

Every pair of eyes in the lobby followed their movement, but neither of them spared a single person a glance. Everyone they passed would stop and stare. Some would step aside to make way for them. Most seemed to be in awe of the both of them, none daring to step onto ground they walked on. It was almost surreal to see, the way they held such a powerful aura in them. What made it even more surreal was they wielded it so effortlessly, as if they were born with it.

It was always there, every time I saw her, I would feel it. But now, it was amplified. She wasn't hiding anything and everyone saw it. Felt it. Made us mere mortals feel minuscule and unworthy of their godlike presence. They were each other's only equals. It was more evident now than ever that I was forced to accept it. Nobody could come close to being Angel's equal other than Jude, and vice versa. It was intimidating, to say the least.

Jude and Angel were speaking in hushed voices as we stood in the elevator. Talking in French. I tried to catch bits and pieces of what I could understand in the language, but I only got confused. I looked over to Andrea beside me, knowing she spoke the language, for clarity. All I got was an annoyed glare in response.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open but instead of an office space, we emerged into what seemed to be an apartment situated at the top floor of the seventy-three story building.

All the walls were made of glass, offering a better view of Manhattan than the Empire State Building. At every glance, an artwork hung by the wall, but not one piece of furniture offered comfort. It felt more like a clinic than a home.

A woman wearing a bright red wrap dress welcomed us, flashing a cordial smile.

"Lord Jude. Lady Angel," she greeted. "Please, follow me."

She turned, leading us down a wide hall.

"Mr. Lastor is still in a meeting downstairs," she said as we arrived at what seemed to be the entertainment room. "He'll be joining you in a few minutes. May I take your jacket, Miss Lastor?"

She reached for the lapels of Angel's jacket but she caught her wrist.

"Has my father not trained you properly, slut? Or do you think yourself worthy of touching me?"

My eyes widened at the venom in her tone.

"I... I apologize, Miss Lastor," the woman stuttered out.

Angel's hold on the woman's wrist tightened as she appraised her with a look of disgust. I reminded myself this wasn't her. It was who she was supposed to be. At least that's what I told myself.

The woman whimpered when Angel's nails dug into her skin.

"Name," she ordered.

"E-Elsa Gallo."

"Elsa," she echoed, testing the name. "How's my father's cock these days, Elsa?"

"Wha-what?"

"You reek of his perfume," she spat in disdain. "Mother buys him a bottle of that scent every fucking Christmas. It's all over you. And I can smell scum in your hands." She threw the woman's arm to the side in disgust before slapping her. "How dare you touch me."