Chapter 82: The Game Is On It’s Way
ADRIEN’S POV
Leon doesn’t shift his gaze. He just stares at me with those tired, empty eyes, his face pale under the dim yellow lights of the hallway.
"Look at you," he says, a faint, bitter edge creeping into his quiet voice. "You’re dressed up like a doll, wearing his ring and running around his halls. Is being Orion’s pet really better than the offer I made you? I’m talking about the one you rejected before you ran away."
The mention of our past hits me like cold water, but instead of making me hesitate, it fires up the dormant anger in my chest.
At seventeen, when my life was falling apart, when Orion’s shadow was suffocating me, and my family was actively trying to destroy my spirit, Leon had approached me. He had offered me a way out.
He had offered to take me away, to protect me, to hide me under his wing.
But I knew then, just as I know now, what that offer really was.
I let out a cold, sharp sneer, taking a slow step forward until I am standing directly in front of him. I look down my nose at him, my expression dripping with pure, unadulterated venom.
"I would rather be Orion’s pet than your trophy, Leon," I say, my voice a quiet, dangerous hiss.
Leon’s jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t back down.
I lean in, my eyes cutting into his. "Did you really think I was that stupid? You didn’t want to save me back then. You wanted to steal me. You wanted to drag me away so you could wave me in Orion’s face and prove, just once in your pathetic, shadow-dwelling life, that you could take something he wanted. I would rather die a thousand times over than be used as a tool to feed your miserable inferiority complex."
I expect him to flare up. I expect the usual Vassilis temper to flare, for him to yell, to threaten me, or to sneer back.
But Leon doesn’t do any of those things.
Instead, he let out a dry, hollow scoff. It’s a quiet, pathetic sound that echoes weakly off the marble walls. He shakes his head slowly, a look of profound, exhausted pity crossing his face.
"Stop lying to yourself, Adrien," Leon says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was never about you being a trophy. And it sure as hell wasn’t about my inferiority complex."
He takes a step closer to me, his shadow falling over my face.
"It was always about Orion."
I frown, my defensive walls shifting slightly in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I don’t have feelings for you, Adrien. I never did," Leon admits openly, his voice completely flat and devoid of shame. "I’m not in love with you, and I never wanted to keep you in some gilded cage to play house. But back then? I was genuinely willing to help you. I was willing to use every resource, every dollar, and every connection I had to get you as far away from him as possible."
He lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, though there is no humor in it.
"And isn’t that why you took my advice back then, but not my help? You ran away because you knew I was right about what Orion would do to you. But you were too proud, too stubborn to take my hand and let me carry you out. You had to do it yourself."
I stand there, my chest rising and falling as I glare at him. My mind is racing, trying to find the trap in his words. There is always a trap with these people.
"You’re a liar," I spit, though the words feel hollow even to my own ears. "You wanted to ruin him. You wanted to hurt him."
"Of course I wanted to hurt him," Leon agrees instantly, his voice entirely calm. "But helping you escape would have kept you safe. It would have kept you entirely out of his reach. Because once Orion sets his sights on something, he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left but ashes."
He stops, staring at me for a long, quiet moment. The exhaustion in his eyes seems to deepen, a heavy, dark shadow settling over his features.
"And funnily enough..." Leon muses, his voice dropping into a strange, reflective tone that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "If Orion finds out everything... knowing how unpredictable that madman is, he might actually not hurt you."
My heart stops.
The air in the hallway suddenly feels cold. I stare at Leon, my mouth slightly open, my brain completely flatlining for the second time tonight.
If Orion finds out everything... he might actually not hurt me?
What does that mean? When he says everything, does he mean everything?
And more importantly... if Orion wouldn’t hurt me, does that mean...
"What are you saying?" I demand, my voice shaking slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady. I reach out, gripping the lapel of Leon’s expensive suit jacket, forcing him to look directly at me. "What do you mean he might not hurt me? Speak clearly, Leon! Are you saying there’s a way out? Is there a possibility he would let me go?"
The sheer, desperate hope that flares up in my chest is pathetic, but I can’t control it. For the last few weeks, I have felt like a man condemned to be executed, completely trapped by Orion’s suffocating obsession.
But for Leon—who knows Orion better than almost anyone, who has watched him from the shadows for his entire life—to say there is a possibility that Orion might actually let me go if he knew the truth...
It’s a lifeline. A fragile, dangerous lifeline, but a lifeline nonetheless.
"Leon," I plead, my grip on his jacket tightening. "Tell me. What truth exactly does he need to know? How much does he need to find out?"
I stare into his dull blue eyes, desperately searching for an answer, waiting for him to give me the key to my freedom.
But Leon doesn’t answer.
Instead, he just looks at me with a profound, crushing sadness. He slowly reaches up, his cold fingers gently but firmly wrapping around my wrists, pulling my hands off his jacket. He doesn’t do it violently. He does it with a strange, tragic gentleness that scares me far more than any display of force ever could.
He lets out a long, slow sigh. It sounds like a man who has finally accepted his defeat, a man who knows the curtain is about to fall on a tragedy he can no longer stop.
"It’s a pity," Leon says, his voice carrying an undeniable air of finality that makes my stomach plunge into a bottomless abyss.
"What?" I whisper, my voice cracking. "What is a pity?"
"It’s not going to be possible," Leon says softly, shaking his head. "It’s not going to be possible for either of you to have the chance for that anymore."
"Why?" I demand, my heart hammering violently against my ribs. My instincts are screaming at me to run, to scream, to do anything to get away from him, but I’m frozen in place. "Why isn’t it possible? Tell me!"
Leon looks past me, staring at the empty, dark hallway as if he can see something invisible wrapping around us both.
"Because now... everyone who is someone has been dragged into it," he whispers, his voice cold and hollow. "There is a lot you don’t know, Adrien. A lot you will never have the chance of knowing."
He looks back down at me, and for a split second, a flash of genuine regret washes over his faded blue eyes.
"You should have taken my hand then."
Before the meaning of his words can fully register in my brain, Leon’s hand moves with blinding speed.
I don’t even have time to gasp. I don’t have time to flinch.
I feel a sharp, sudden prick at the side of my neck.
My eyes widen in instant panic. I reach up, my fingers brushing against the small, cold metal of a syringe, but it’s already too late. The plunger has already been pressed.
"L-Leon..." I choke out, my voice failing me as a heavy, icy sensation spreads rapidly from my neck, rushing down my spine and into my limbs.
My legs instantly turn to water. I stumble backward, my hands clawing weakly at the air, trying to find purchase against the smooth marble wall. But the world is already beginning to tilt. The dim yellow lights of the hallway smear into long, blinding streaks of gold.
The distant, muffled sound of the party outside—the clinking of champagne glasses, the polite laughter of high society, the soft classical music—seems to drift away, fading into a dull, underwater hum.
Leon stands perfectly still, watching me fall. He doesn’t reach out to catch me. He just stands there like a silent, mourning specter as my knees buckle and I collapse heavily onto the cold stone floor.
I try to fight it. I claw at my throat, my chest heaving as I desperately try to draw oxygen into my rapidly failing lungs. My mind screams for Orion. It screams for anyone.
But my eyelids feel heavier than lead. The darkness rises from the edges of my vision, thick, cold, and entirely consuming.
No...
Not like this...
The last thing I see before the darkness swallows me whole is the dull, empty stare of Leon’s blue eyes, looking down at me as the world completely fades to black.
******
This is the end of the second volume!
Drop reviews if you’re enjoying the novel.
—TheLovePoet
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