(Roselle's POV)
Sitting on the plush, velvet chair in my grand office, the weight of the world rested on my shoulders.
My fingers drumd rhythmically on the armrest as my mind drifted. I stared out of the large windows, watching the distant skyline of the city, but my thoughts were far away.
Samuel—my favorite Samuel—was heading to Eastern Europe, and I couldn't help the smirk that curled onto my lips.
The way he always managed to stay one step ahead, always unpredictable, always managing to rattle my cage.
But that smirk... it hid sothing deeper. Sothing darker.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath. I was the Mafia Queen, the Lord of Darkness—a position no one could challenge.
I had power, control, everything I could have ever wanted. But Samuel? He made feel things I couldn't shake. He made angry, made question everything I thought I knew.
Total three lifetis together—fighting, betraying, loving, hating. Yet, every single ti, it ended with us at odds, with pushing him away, only for him to return.
"Damn it."
I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes for a mont. Despite everything I had—my mafia empire, my dark reign, my influence over this world—I was still chasing after him.
A bitter laugh escaped as I opened my eyes, glaring at the empty space before . I was supposed to be untouchable, but Samuel—Samuel had a way of breaking through every wall I built around myself.
The fact that he was going to Eastern Europe didn't sit right with . I knew what that ant. He was hunting sothing, soone—and he always found a way to co out on top.
"I hate him," I whispered, though I knew it wasn't true. If I truly hated him, I wouldn't feel this constant pull, wouldn't feel like I was still chasing him across ti and space.
Three lifetis of this. Three lifetis of battle, betrayal, and desire—and I still couldn't escape him.
I pressed my fingers to my temple, frustration boiling within . The Lord of Darkness, the Mafia Queen, the ruler of everything, was suddenly at the rcy of Samuel Gebb, the man I couldn't shake, even after everything.
"Damn it, Samuel."
But deep down, I knew.
I would always follow him. Even if it ant hating him. Even if it ant sacrificing my own peace.
I leaned forward, my fingers curling into a fist, determination flashing through .
"I'll catch up to you. No matter where you go, Samuel... I'll always be one step behind you."
It was no longer about hate. It was about winning. And in this ga of ours, only one of us could co out on top.
(Nocturne's POV – A Twisted Obsession)
I sat in the high-rise apartnt in New York, the city's bustling sounds barely reaching as I leaned back against the plush chair. My thoughts were far away, consud with mories—mories of another ti.
My fingers traced the rim of my glass absently as I reflected on the strange connection that had always existed between , Roselle, and them—Samuel and Henry.
"The first life," I thought to myself, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Back then, we were nothing but students. Toppers with all the answers, while they were the reckless backbenchers."
It was funny, in a way. How things had turned out.
Samuel, the backbencher with no real future in their eyes, had always stood out to . I couldn't quite place it back then, but there was sothing about his recklessness that drew in. He wasn't like the others, so far removed from the people who followed the rules. He didn't care about authority, didn't care about what was expected of him.
And Henry—quiet, intense Henry. He had a way of holding himself, as if he knew his destiny was bigger than the small world we all existed in. He was always watching, always studying, and yet, he kept to himself, hiding in plain sight.
And yet, sohow, even then, I could see it. I was obsessed with Henry, and Roselle? She couldn't take her eyes off Samuel.
Now, here we were, three lifetis later, and the sa obsession still burned.
"She's after Samuel," I thought with a dark grin. Roselle's obsession had never wavered, even though she would never admit it. She chased after him, just as I chased after Henry, as if we were both dood to repeat this cycle of rivalry, of wanting what we couldn't have.
In that first life, we were top students—always ahead, always praised. But look at us now.
Two backbenchers—Samuel and Henry—had sohow rizzed their way into our lives, turning everything upside down. It was almost humorous. The world had a way of shifting, of breaking what we thought we knew. The toppers and the backbenchers—we were no longer just students. Now, we were monsters, rulers in our own right.
I leaned back further, looking out at the skyline.
"Two backbenchers rizzed two toppers," I whispered to myself, a twisted satisfaction curling in my chest.
I didn't need Roselle to see it. We were the ones who had underestimated them, the ones who thought we could control the world, shape everything to fit our vision. But in the end, Samuel and Henry had always been more than that. They were the chaos we couldn't ta, and maybe that was why I couldn't help but be drawn to them.
I closed my eyes, a sense of calm settling over .
Samuel and Henry, the two who had never followed the rules, who had never cared about playing the ga the way the rest of us did.
And now, we were all tangled in this web of fate and obsession.
"Let them have their little dance," I thought, a smirk playing on my lips. "In the end, they'll always co back to ."
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