The Love From Vengeance

255: IN MY MANSION

LUKE’S POV

“Lakel Luke!”

I awoke to the sound of resounding screams, my name plastered across the mouth of whoever was carrying out that nonsense. I turned to Ariel; she was still sleeping, her hands wrapping around me.

But then I heard my name again. “Luke! Come down here!” And that voice sounded like my great- aunt. No need for arguments; it was definitely her.

I slowly took Ariel’s hands off me, put on some shorts, and then put on a shirt. I left my room to see what all the screaming was about.

Treading down the stairs, I saw my great–aunt in the living room, dressed in her night outfit. Undoubtedly, she had recently awoken, yet she was present and generating this abhorrent din.

My eyes went further, and my mother stood close but not too close to the canon. She looked kind of broken and hurt; the expression on her face said it all.

My great–aunt finally caught sight of me, and she didn’t hesitate to give me a glare. But I couldn’t be terrified by that.

“What am I seeing here?” she barked

at me.

I looked at her in a confused manner. “I’m sorry. Say what now?”

“What is this trash doing here?” She gestured toward my mother.

“Who, she?” looked at my mom, then I looked back at this woman. “She, of course; who else would I be talking about?”

“Have some respect; that’s my mother right there.”

“So what?” My great–aunt gave me a disgusting face. “She doesn’t deserve respect.

“And who are you to say that?” I retorted.

“Don’t ask me that. Have some respect, young man.”

“I’ve already tried to do that before, but I don’t think it’s possible. Since you don’t deserve respect, the same way you talk sh*t about her,

“Who even let her come into this house?”

“Why are you asking that?”

“Because I’m going to make that person pay. I will ensure that person gets the torment of a lifetime.”

“Well, guess what? I’m the one who did it,” I told her at that very moment. “I’m the one who took her

to this mansion.

255. IN MY MANSION

“Why did you do that?”

“Because she’s my mother. Why wouldn’t I let her come in? I can’t bear to see her in pain. Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“She deserves to be in pain.”

“No, great, I don’t really think so,” I continued my defense.

“Do you

have any idea what this woman has done all these years? Do you?”

“What did she do?” I asked out of curiosity. Was she talking about my mother killing my father, or was she just going to accuse her of doing something terrible? My grandfather and this woman had never liked my mother. Probably because of their knowledge of who she was and her demeanor.

I glanced at my great–aunt. Hatred, the powerful emotion that could consume my goddamn soul with a fiery intensity, found its roots in the depths of my heart before ever reaching my eyes. This woman really had me fucked up. At times, a mere glance could unveil a world of disdain and animosity that simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to erupt like a volcano of malice.

Just take a look at yourself. My gaze pierces through the facade of civility to reveal the storm brewing within. With each passing glance, a torrent of contempt flows unchecked, coloring my perception of the world in shades of loathing and disgust.

Of course, I could see the hate my great–aunt had for my mother, and it was definitely not because of my father’s death. I knew, for a fact, that she had no knowledge of that. So, I could be right. Perhaps it was a deep–rooted prejudice, a past betrayal, or an unresolved conflict that festered like a wound, tainting every interaction with a bitter aftertaste.

But right now, my eyes, which I often refer to as the windows to my soul, betrayed the true nature of the current, fucked–up situation. Cold, calculating stares devoid of warmth or empathy sent shivers down this woman’s spine if she was unfortunate enough to cross my path. My dark path which has not been revealed to her, Because those feelings were concealed. But right now, my gaze was a dangerous weapon–ready to strike fear and unease in this woman’s heart. But I knew she was also a tough one, and I still couldn’t give her goddamn respect.

Our eyes wandered against ourselves, seeking out what only God knows for this silent moment. A fleeting glance was enough to condemn, categorize, and dehumanize: The weight of my disdain was clear in the air, suffocating this woman in its path. A stare that was a dagger, an expression that was a blow to the spirit of this woman who dared to do shit and act different, who dared to come to my mansion to start telling me nonsense.

“You were just a little kid back then. You wouldn’t have any idea of a damn thing she did.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s going to be useless. I’ll just be wasting my i

I told her, “And you’ll be wasting your time here by causing a disturbance at my house.”

“My house, you meant,” she said, and I chuckled, looking in another direction.

245. IN MY MANSION

ARIEL’S POV

I stood on the rocky shore, my feet sinking into the wet sand, as I gazed out at the turbulent con before me. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds, illuminated by flashes of lightning that tore through the darkness like jagged knives. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a primal roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and on impending storm–a palpable tension that made my heart race with fear and anticipation,

As I watched, a wave of dread washed over me, mirroring the crashing ways that pounded agains the shore. The sea, usually a source of solace and serenity for me, now seemed ha malevolent force, a monster hungry for destruction. The water churned and rolled, its surface frothy and chaotic, as if hiding some terrible secret beneath its depths.

In the midst of the storm, Luke stood at the water’s edge, his silhouette a stark contrast against the raging sea. He seemed to be calling out to me; his voice lost in the howling wind and crashing waves. Panic seized my heart as I watched him wade further into the water, oblivious to the danger that surrounded him.

I tried to reach out to him to warn him of the impending danger, but the fury of the storm drowned out my voice. I felt a sense of helplessness wash over me a feeling of being powerless to save the one I loved from the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.

As Luke ventured deeper into the water, a massive wave rose up before him, towering like a titan against the sky. My heart leaped into my throat as I watched in horror as the wave crashed down upon him, engulfing him in its icy embrace. I screamed his name, a sound lost in the cacophony of wind and water, as I saw him disappear beneath the surface, swallowed by the roiling sea.

The moment I screamed, my eyes were opene