JEFFERSON MANSION.
Uriel strode into the living room, his long leather overcoat already in Mariah's hands. She passed it to a waiting maid to be laundered, her eyes taking in his gaunt frame and troubled expression. He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before, a fact she noticed but didn't dare mention. He was a ticking bomb, and she knew better than to ask why.
He walked to his bedroom, hoping to sleep away his worries and sorrows, but his usual insomnia—the kind that followed a precise, relentless schedule—would likely keep him awake.
Uriel walked to his nightstand, grabbing a lighter before pulling open the cupboard. He retrieved a pack of cigarettes and lit one, taking a deep drag. He then opened the sliding glass door that led to his balcony for the first time, breathing in the fresh air.
"Megara, you've gotten more than you bargained for," he chuckled, the end of the cigarette glowing crimson as he took another drag. "I can't tell if I'm happy you're defying my orders or if I should feel this way."
He flicked the cigarette aside, not bothering to put it out, and buried his face in his hands. He walked back into the room, gently closing the glass door behind him. Just as he was about to lie down, his phone rang, its tune filling the silent room.
The name "Zack" appeared on the screen, and Uriel let out a sigh of relief before answering. As usual, the music in the background meant Zack was at a party.
"Hello?" Uriel's voice was sharp and grumpy.
"Speak, you bull's head. I don't have all day to take your calls," he gritted out.
"Dude, I'm hosting a party tonight. Why aren't you here already? The party started at 5:30 p.m., and I told you yesterday," Zack complained bitterly, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Uriel groaned and walked to his wardrobe. He stared at the clothes inside before pressing a button. Almost instantly, maids knocked and entered his room.
"I'm busy, you asshole. You don't just expect me to show up at every party," he replied, turning to the maids. "How long have these clothes been in this wardrobe?"
The maids looked at each other, terrified, before one of them straightened up to answer. "Boss, we're deeply sorry for the inconvenience. We'll have them moved." She bowed, but Uriel snarled, tossing a glass cup to the floor, startling them all.
He glared at them like a ferocious lion ready to pounce. "Was that the question I asked?"
"No, sir. We had no idea the clothes had been here for a week," she replied, trembling like a leaf. "The fashion designer was in charge of changing your clothes; we weren't permitted to."
Uriel's frown deepened, his anger growing by the minute. He momentarily forgot about the phone call. "Mariah! Mariah!" he yelled.
Mariah ran into the room, feigning confusion. "Yes, boss? You called for me?"
He pointed to the three maids who were kneeling. "Kick them out and have someone take this trash out," he ordered. Mariah nodded, not saying a word. "Also, get a new one ASAP."
The maids walked out of the room, their faces dejected, none of them daring to plead for their jobs for fear of angering him further. Mariah signaled a new batch of maids to help her remove the clothes.
Once the door was shut, Uriel brought the phone back to his ear. "Dude, that was epic. But anyway, are you coming?" Zack's voice asked.
Uriel groaned, staring at his favorite hoodie and pants lying on the bed. "I'm coming, but don't expect me to be early. And don't get another whore on standby," he said with a sigh.
Zack burst into laughter, and Uriel rolled his eyes, having expected this reaction. "It's not like you're ever early anyway. And as for the ladies, don't worry, they're not for you."
Uriel hung up, not wanting to hear his annoying voice any longer.
The party at EUPHORIA CLUB was a complete blast. The vibrant disco lights pulsed, casting a colorful glow over the crowd on the dance floor. People of all shapes and sizes moved with the rhythm, while the heavy scents of alcohol and something more primal filled the air. In the darker corners, couples were wrapped around each other, lost in their own world.
Uriel entered with his black hoodie pulled low, but the bouncers recognized him instantly, bowing their heads in respect. He ignored them, walking straight into the main hall where he spotted Zack in the VIP lounge, surrounded by three blonde women.
Even with his face obscured, Uriel became the center of attention. Zack saw him and winked knowingly before whispering something to the women, who quickly moved to the far end of the couch. Zack stood, pulling Uriel into a firm hug and patting his back.
"Yo! You actually showed up," Zack said, clicking his tongue as he gestured for Uriel to sit. "I didn't think you would."
"Shut up," Uriel replied, taking a seat. "It's not like I wanted to party, anyway. I just needed some fresh air—the mansion is suffocating. Catherine had me promise I wouldn't throw a party."
Zack smiled, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. "What a shame, dude," he said mockingly. "But she didn't say you couldn't attend one hosted by your friends, did she, idiot?"
Uriel signaled a waiter over, whispering his order and handing over his black card. "That's your problem," he said. "But in a few days, I'm hosting a beach party."
"So, how's Megara's condition?" Zack asked, but Uriel met his gaze with an indifferent stare. "The news is buzzing about the Bonner family's downfall. And to top it off, Chaplain's in a coma in the hospital. Was this your doing?"
Uriel lit a cigarette, the smoke filling the air around him as he glared at Zack. "How is that my business, Zack? If you want to see Megara, go see her. As for Chaplain, he got what he deserved from whoever hit him."
Knowing Uriel wouldn't admit anything easily, Zack pressed on, choosing his words carefully. "Journalists are speculating the Bonner family was targeted by Black Agate. It's even been published in the news."
The waiter returned, carrying a bottle of 1945 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. Uriel took his black card and signaled for the waiter to leave. The waiter then poured the wine into a champagne flute. Uriel took a long, slow sip, his Adam's apple moving gracefully, which caught the attention of the women nearby.
"That's Black Agate's problem to handle," Uriel replied, feigning ignorance. "If he wanted to remove it, he would have done so already, since it's harming Megara's image."
"Alright, ladies, it's time for me and my homie to goof around a little," Zack said. "Spend all you want; it's on me." The women left as he requested. "Dude, don't be a grump. C'mon, did you hit Chaplain or spread the video about his family?"
Uriel downed the rest of his champagne in a single gulp, placing the glass back on the table. "Patience, Zack," he said. "There's no proof that I did anything, and the news speculating that Black Agate brought them down is just rumors." Zack groaned in defeat.