Split loyalties{25}

As I stood outside the fenced gate of our Victorian styled house, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay beyond. The towering structure, adorned with intricate ironwork and stained glass windows, held a facade of wealth and opulence. But inside, behind the grandeur, lurked a darkness that only we, the ones born into the family, truly knew.

My eyes narrowed as I stared at the gate, the only barrier separating me from the world I despised. I could hear the sounds of the bustling city on the other side, the honking cars and the distant chatter of people going about their lives. I closed my eyes, shutting out the noise, and focused on preparing my mind for what awaited me within those walls.

My thoughts turned to my father, the man who claimed ownership of one of the largest pharmaceutical industries in the country. To the outside world, he was a successful businessman, revered by those who knew nothing of the true nature of his wealth. But I knew better. I knew that most of our money came from the dirty business my father ran, the underground empire he presided over as a king.

A bitter taste filled my mouth as I thought of the countless lives he had destroyed, the families he had torn apart without a second thought. And as his son, I had inadvertently become a part of that world. It was a life of luxury and ease, of servants and extravagant parties, but it was built on a foundation of suffering and blood.

My mother, once beautiful and full of life, had become a mere shell of her former self, a real life doll to the outside world. She had been neglected, overshadowed by my father's insatiable thirst for power and wealth. And my siblings, once carefree and happy, now lived in constant fear and tension after my younger sister passed away, never knowing what horrors lay just around the corner.

But I had a plan. I had spent years gathering my own loyal men, those who saw the dark truth behind my father's facade. They had become my eyes and ears, spying on my father's every move and reporting back to me. My father, blinded by his own arrogance, had never suspected a thing. His most trusted men had turned loyal to me, their allegiance hidden under the mask of their supposed loyalty to him.

The time for the shift in power was drawing near, I could feel it in my bones. But I knew I had to bide my time, wait for the right moment to strike. The torment my mother and siblings had endured all these years would be paid back in full, every tear shed and every moment of pain etched into my memory.

Opening my eyes, I made my way towards the gate, my determination solidifying with each step. The security agents, stationed at their designated locations, watched me with suspicious eyes, their loyalty split between my father and the blood that ran through my veins. But I cared little for their loyalties. I knew where mine lay, and it wasn't with the man who called himself my father.

As the gate opened, I stepped inside, welcomed by the chaos that always seemed to reign within these walls. Maids and cleaners scurried around, their faces filled with a mix of fear and trepidation. They knew better than to cross me, for they had witnessed my anger firsthand. But in their eyes, I also saw a glimmer of hope, a belief that I could bring an end to this endless cycle of suffering.

I hadn't even taken five steps into the house when the bodyguards, my mother's desperate attempt at protecting me, flanked me on either side. Their presence, though suffocating, was a constant reminder of the danger that loomed over us all. I despised being constantly watched, controlled, but I knew it was a necessary evil.

I made my way through the house, my eyes taking in the lavish decor and the familiar faces of the servants who scurried past me. Despite the grandeur, I couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over me. This was not the life I had chosen, it had been forced upon me, a burden I carried unwillingly.

The weight of my responsibilities pressed down on me, threatening to crush me under their unbearable heaviness. But I refused to yield. I would endure, pushing forward, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And when that moment came, I would tear down the facade, expose my father for the monster he truly was, and reclaim the life that had been stolen from us.

As I walked through the front door, my mind firmly set on my ultimate goal, I knew that the road ahead would be treacherous and filled with unimaginable sacrifices. But I was ready. Ready to rewrite our family's story, ready to bring justice to those who had suffered.

I raised my head high, a glimmer of determination shining in my eyes. The time for change was coming. And when it did, I would be ready to face the darkness head on, knowing that the battle ahead would determine the fate of not only myself but also the ones I loved.

"Young master Damon, Senior Salvator has requested your presence in his office" the butler's voice came filtering through my shut door.

"Thank you mark, I'll be there in five minutes"

"Very well then, I shall relay the young master's message"

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Reluctantly, I made my way through the vast halls of our Victorian styled house towards my father's office. Every step felt heavier than the last, my heart beating with a sense of unease and tension. The air around me seemed charged, as if the very walls of the house could sense the impending confrontation.

As I reached the door to the office, I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady myself. This was not a meeting I had looked forward to. My father, the man who had birthed me and caused my mother so much pain, sat in his revolving seat behind the huge mahogany table. His personal bodyguards flanked both sides of the room, their presence blending seamlessly into the dimly lit office.

With a reluctant determination, I pushed open the door and entered. The room was filled with the scent of old books and polished wood, a mixture of power and authority that my father was so fond of. I remained standing, my eyes locked with his in a silent battle of dominance. I refused to back down, refused to be intimidated by the man who had made my life a living hell.

My father's lips twitched slightly, a barely noticeable movement, but one that spoke volumes. He knew that this meeting was different, that I was not here as his obedient son, but as a force to be reckoned with.

"Sit, Damon," my father finally spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of authority and disdain. I knew that tone all too well, the one that made my blood boil and my hands curl into fists. But I forced myself to remain composed, to not let him see the anger that simmered within me.

"No, thank you," I replied tightly, keeping my voice steady. I could feel the tension in the room escalate, the electricity crackling between us. We both knew that this meeting was not going to end well.

My father leaned back in his chair, studying me with a calculating gaze. "Why the resistance, Damon? Don't you think it's time you embraced your role within this family, within this empire?"

My jaw clenched, the muscles tensing under the strain of holding back the words I wanted to unleash. "What empire, Father? The one built on the suffering and blood of innocent people? I want no part in that."

A cold smile played on my father's lips, a smile that I had come to despise. "You speak out of turn, Damon. You think you know better than me? Better than the man who has built this family from nothing?"

I felt the anger rise within me, threatening to burst forth like a raging fire. "No, Father. But I do know that there is a better way, a way to achieve success without causing pain and destruction. I refuse to follow in your footsteps."

The tension in the room reached its breaking point, the silence heavy with unspoken words. We continued to lock eyes, neither willing to back down. The gap between us widened, the strain on our already strained relationship growing ever more evident.

Finally, I turned on my heel without excusing myself, the anger boiling over, and banged the door shut behind me. The sound echoed through the house, a resounding declaration of my defiance.

I stormed through the dimly lit corridors, my mind spinning with a mixture of fury and determination. I couldn't stay in that house any longer, couldn't bear to breathe the same air as the man who had caused so much pain. Without a second thought, I made my way to the garage, my footsteps echoing on the marble floors.

I grabbed the keys to my Chevrolet Corvette, the only piece of the life I cherished, and climbed into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life, the sound a comforting reminder of the freedom I so desperately sought.

As I sped out of the driveway, the night sky witnessing my fury, I saw my bodyguards climbing into their SUVs, their duty to protect shifting to a duty to follow me. But I paid no heed to their presence. Tonight, I needed distance, I needed to feel the wind on my face and the open road beneath me.

With each mile that passed, the tension slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of clarity. I knew that this was only the beginning, that the battle for the life I desired would be long and arduous. But I was ready. Ready to face whatever obstacles awaited me, ready to rewrite the legacy of my family.

For now, the night sky was my only companion. As I drove into the darkness, the road stretching out before me, I knew that my destiny awaited, ready to be seized with both hands.