The Count’s Obsession

Isis felt numb. So numb he couldn’t even feel pain. He had lost count of how many lashes had struck his back while his hands and feet were chained. He knelt in the center of the punishment hall, silent, motionless, yet fully conscious. Why hadn’t he passed out? What had he done wrong this time? He couldn’t remember the rule he broke. His mind was full of pain, anger, guilt, and confusion. Madness crept in slowly, taking his sanity bit by bit. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but he didn’t. He had been taught never to beg. He was taught to be above everyone. Another punishment would come. And he was tired. Tired of being punished for simply existing. Tired of being an obedient dog. Tired of trying to be a good brother. Tired of being a monster. Tired of pretending. “I’m just… so tired… of living,” he whispered. His lips moved, but no sound came as the last lash struck his back. “I’m sorry,” he heard Colter say softly while removing his chains. “I’m just following

Xanthe blinked as she saw Isis outside her café early in the morning. They were just about to open, but he was already there. What was he doing? “I told you to rest, didn’t I?” she asked immediately as she approached him. He just smiled, took the keys he was holding, and opened the café’s roll-up door. Worry crept into her chest as she watched him force it open. “Careful! Your wounds…” she started, but he waved her off. “It won’t kill me,” he said cheekily, moving to open the glass door. “See? I’m still alive.” She grabbed the keys from him. “Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to rest? You promised me yesterday.” “I did rest. And you only told me to rest. You didn’t say how long. I followed your instructions.” She sighed. “Smart-ass.” Isis grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway… I’m here because I want to help. I’ve always wanted to be a waiter and—” “Isis,” she interrupted, narrowing her eyes. “You’re not doing this just to pay me back, right?”

Isis woke up feeling unusually calm. Something warm was resting on his chest, and it felt… good. He never felt this at ease. Usually, he woke irritated or completely numb. Opening his eyes, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. It was Xanthe. She was asleep, her head resting on his chest, her face turned toward him. So close. His heart pounded loudly. Would she hear my heartbeat? He bit his lower lip, thinking of how to adjust their positions without waking her. Her face was dangerously close, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. He knew the position was probably uncomfortable for her, but she was so sleepy that she didn’t seem to care. Fuck! How can I be so selfish? He glanced at his wristwatch. 5:25 a.m. Motherfucker! I didn’t expect to sleep this long! He was used to sleeping only thirty minutes to an hour, without pills. And last night, he hadn’t taken any. His gaze returned to Xanthe’s peaceful face. I actually fell asleep on her lap… as

He drove toward the Sub-HQ of the Triad without hesitation, the city lights blurring in the rain. The mansion loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, a fortress for people who had no idea what was coming. Isis parked outside the gate and didn’t even bother to hide his intent. He stepped out, feeling the cold air bite his skin, and pressed the doorbell. A gruff voice answered, “Who is it?” Without hesitation, Isis shoved a katana into the man’s chest who opened the gate. There was no warning, no hesitation. The man crumpled, blood spreading across his shirt as he fell forward. Isis withdrew the blade from the lifeless body and stepped through the gate, ready for what awaited inside. Gunshots erupted immediately, echoing in his ears. But Isis moved like liquid, weaving between bullets with the precision of a predator. His katanas became shields and weapons at once, slashing and stabbing any threat that dared get close. The bodies of his enemies fell to the floor one after another.

Isis felt even more confused at Xanthe’s response. “Never mind?” What did she mean by that? After he said it wasn’t him, she just said, never mind? He saw a spark in her eyes, a look that told him she knew something he didn’t. He was trained to read people, and at that moment, he could read her perfectly. She knew something. Caius had been there, working in his place. Isis had no idea why his twin would even be at the café. He remembered how Xanthe had gently touched Caius hair earlier. Not once had he felt anger when Caius pretended to be him, even in front of Xanthe and her friends. But this time… this time, he had been furious at Caius for pretending to be him, in front of Xanthe! He wanted to rush into the café, to make her realize it wasn’t him, but he knew that would only cause chaos. Hadn’t Xanthe noticed that it wasn’t him? Damn it! He felt the anger rise again. No one could easily tell them apart. Even people who knew Isis’ twin existed had trouble distinguishing