Episode 10
1082 Words
Days turned into weeks, and the once-elegant Martin mansion became a shell of its former glory. Since Mr. Martin’s departure, David had crowned himself king of chaos.
He roamed the halls with the confidence of a ruler and the arrogance of a spoiled child who believed nothing could touch him.
The house that once smelled of roses and fresh polish now reeked of alcohol, cigar smoke, and broken peace.
David began sleeping late, waking in the afternoon with hangovers, yelling at servants who dared to disturb him. The staff had grown used to his insults — “useless”, “good-for-nothing”, “peasants”. They endured it because they needed their jobs, but one by one, some began to resign quietly.
By the end of the month, only a few loyal workers remained — including Lydia.
She worked silently, her movements light and careful, hoping not to provoke his anger. But David seemed to find fault in everything she did.
If she mopped the floor — “You missed a spot.”
If she served his meal — “It’s too cold.”
If she walked past him — “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Every day was a new humiliation, yet Lydia endured it all.
Jacob, meanwhile, had grown increasingly frustrated. He tried to keep the house from falling apart and managed some of the company affairs behind the scenes. But every time he tried to talk sense into David, it ended in argument.
One evening, Jacob returned home late from the office, exhausted. The moment he entered, he froze. The living room was filled with strangers — loud music, half-empty bottles, and girls laughing in corners.
David sat on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, his shirt unbuttoned, surrounded by his equally reckless friends.
“Jacob! My ever-serious brother!” he shouted over the music. “Come, join the fun. You look like you need to loosen up.”
Jacob dropped his briefcase on the table, anger flashing in his eyes. “David, what is this again? Another party? You had one two nights ago.”
David smirked. “Yes, and it was fantastic. This one’s even better.”
“You’re destroying this house,” Jacob snapped. “Father would be ashamed if he saw this.”
David laughed bitterly. “Father isn’t here, is he? So stop pretending to be him.”
Jacob’s voice grew firm. “He left you in charge because he trusted you.”
“And I’m enjoying that trust!” David shot back, raising his glass mockingly. “To freedom!”
The crowd cheered, unaware of the growing tension.
Jacob shook his head, disgusted. “You’re not free, David. You’re enslaved — by your pride.”
David stood abruptly, his face hardening. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Just because Father took you in from the streets?”
Jacob’s jaw tightened. “No. But I know the difference between power and self-destruction.”
The room went quiet. The guests exchanged uneasy looks.
David chuckled darkly. “You talk too much, Jacob. Maybe it’s time you remembered your place.”
He stepped closer, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. “You’re not my equal. You’re a charity case Father picked off the gutter. Don’t ever forget that.”
Jacob didn’t reply. He simply turned away, his silence more powerful than any insult.
Later that night, after everyone left, Lydia walked through the mess — broken glasses, spilled drinks, and cigarette ashes on the floor. She sighed, her hands trembling as she began to clean.
She didn’t hear David approach behind her until he spoke.
“Working late again, maid?” His tone dripped with mockery.
Lydia straightened. “I’m just doing my duty, sir.”
David circled her slowly. “Duty… or are you trying to impress my brother?”
She froze. “Sir?”
He smiled coldly. “Don’t play innocent. I see how he looks at you — like you’re some saint sent from heaven. You think you can fool him too?”
“I’m not trying to fool anyone,” Lydia replied softly. “I just want peace in this house.”
David leaned closer. “Peace? You think there’s peace where I live?” He grabbed her wrist roughly. “Tell me, what are you really doing here, Lydia? Who sent you?”
Fear flickered in her eyes. “No one. I came because Mr. Martin offered me work.”
David’s grip tightened. “Liar. You’re here for something else.”
Jacob’s voice rang from the doorway. “Let her go, David.”
David turned sharply, his face twisting in irritation. “Stay out of this, Jacob.”
“I said let her go.”
For a tense moment, the brothers stared at each other — one drunk with pride, the other burning with silent fury.
Finally, David released her roughly. Lydia stumbled backward, her wrist red where he had held it.
“She’s manipulating you,” David sneered. “Can’t you see that?”
Jacob stepped forward. “The only manipulator here is you.”
David smirked. “We’ll see about that.” He poured himself another drink and staggered out of the room.
Jacob turned to Lydia gently. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, just… frightened.”
He sighed. “Don’t be afraid of him. He’s lost control, but I’ll make sure he never touches you again.”
Her eyes softened. “Thank you, Jacob. You’ve always been kind.”
Jacob looked at her quietly, his heart aching. “Kindness is the least anyone can give you, Lydia. You deserve far more.”
For a moment, they stood there — the silence between them filled with unspoken understanding. Then Lydia nodded and continued cleaning, her movements softer now, comforted by his words.
Jacob watched her for a long while, a storm of emotions swirling within him — pity, admiration, and something deeper that scared him.
Upstairs, David stood by his window, watching them with burning eyes. He took a long sip of whiskey, his thoughts poisoned by jealousy.
“She’s making a fool of me,” he muttered under his breath. “Both of them are.”
His hand clenched around the glass until it shattered. Blood dripped from his palm, but he didn’t flinch.
He just whispered coldly into the night —
“This isn’t over.”
- Writer
