REVENGE OF THE ILLEGITIMATE HEIR

Betrayal unfolding.

The evening passed in a tense silence as Dimitri sat in his room, the glow of his laptop screen casting a pale light on his face. He had tried to lose himself in the work, but the thoughts of his family, the constant tension with Ava and Quinn, lingered in his mind. No matter how much he tried, he could never escape the suffocating grip of their disdain.

The door creaked open, and Quinn's mocking laughter echoed from the hallway. Dimitri closed his eyes, steeling himself for what was to come.

"What's the matter, Dimitri?" Quinn's voice oozed with sarcasm as he sauntered into the room. "You look like you’ve been crying."

Dimitri clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to lash out. He wasn’t a child anymore; he had to maintain control. But Quinn’s words hit harder than expected, each one like a needle digging into his skin. He glanced at the floor, trying to avoid his stepbrother’s eyes.

"You know, I never understood why Father even tolerates you," Quinn continued, stepping closer. "You’ll never be anything. You’re just a mistake. You think you’re some kind of man because he pretends to care about you? It’s all a joke."

Dimitri bit his lip, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk. He tried to push back the emotions rising inside him, the anger threatening to overtake him.

Quinn leaned in closer, his voice low and mocking. “Even the girl you like…yeah, I know about her…you’ll never get her. I’ll get to her first, and you’ll just be left watching from the sidelines.”

Dimitri’s heart pounded in his chest, his hands shaking at his sides. Quinn had always been cruel, but these words cut deeper than anything before. Dimitri didn’t respond, not wanting to give Quinn the satisfaction. Instead, he stood up and walked past him, heading toward the door.

Quinn laughed, a sound that made Dimitri's blood boil, but he didn’t turn back. He walked out of the room, his heart heavy with frustration, disgust, and a feeling of helplessness.

He needed to get away, to retreat to his sanctuary, and try to forget. He headed to his room, his sanctuary, where he could breathe, think, and be free of their constant judgment. But no matter how much he tried, the weight of his family's rejection pressed down on him like a vice.

---

Later that night, Dimitri sat in front of his laptop once more, working on reports his father had given him earlier that day. The night was quiet, too quiet, and it felt like something was wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. The air felt thick, tense.

Suddenly, a loud, sharp sound rang through the silence…a gunshot.

Dimitri’s body jerked in shock, his heart leaping into his throat. His mind raced as he stood, his pulse quickening. Was it a mistake? Was he hearing things?

He rushed out of his room, heart pounding in his chest, ears straining to hear any signs of movement in the house. But all was eerily still. The house was quiet, too quiet.

His eyes flicked to the hallway, and he sprinted toward his father’s study, his thoughts in disarray. He needed to check on Levan. He needed to be sure.

The door to the study was slightly ajar. Dimitri hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open.

What he saw froze him in place.

Levan, his father,his real father…lay sprawled across the floor in a pool of blood, his face pale and his body still. Dimitri’s breath caught in his throat as he rushed forward, his legs trembling.

“Father!” he cried, dropping to his knees beside him.

Levan’s eyes flickered weakly, but they were still open. His chest barely rose, the life slowly fading from his body. Dimitri’s hand hovered over Levan’s, but he was too afraid to touch him. He couldn’t bear to think of the life slipping away from his father right in front of him.

Levan’s voice, weak but clear, broke the silence. “Dimitri…” His voice was barely a whisper, but Dimitri heard the words. “Don’t trust them. It wasn’t… you…”

Tears welled in Dimitri’s eyes, but he couldn’t cry. Not now. Not like this. “Father, please, don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine.”

But the blood pooling beneath Levan’s body told a different story. His breath became shallow, his body weakening with each passing second.

With his last ounce of strength, Levan managed to mutter one final sentence: “It was… them…”

And with that, Levan’s body went limp, his eyes closing, and the life left him.

Dimitri sat there in shock, unable to process the horror unfolding in front of him. His hands were covered in blood as he tried to shake his father awake, but it was futile. The world seemed to spin out of control. His mind refused to accept the reality of what had just happened.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps. He turned quickly, hoping it was someone who could help, but what he saw next only added to his confusion and fear.

Ava stood in the doorway, her face contorted with shock. She gasped, her hands going to her mouth in disbelief. Then her eyes narrowed, and a look of cold accusation crossed her face.

“What have you done?” she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. “What have you done to him?”

Dimitri’s heart dropped into his stomach. “I… I didn’t…”

Before he could explain, more voices joined the fray. Quinn appeared, followed by several of the household staff, their faces pale with fear. The servants hovered in the background, their eyes wide with uncertainty, yet their expressions were telling….a mix of accusation and suspicion. It was as if they already knew the truth, or rather, the lie they were about to tell.

“Dimitri,” Quinn’s voice was full of mockery as he looked down at the scene, his eyes scanning the blood on the floor. “What did you do?”

“What happened?” Dimitri tried to remain calm, but the panic in his chest was overwhelming. “I didn’t do this. I swear, I found him like this.”

But the words hung in the air, heavy with disbelief. Ava stepped forward, shaking her head. “Lies. All lies. You did this, Dimitri. I know it. You’ve always wanted to take everything from us. And now look at this.”

The words hit Dimitri like a slap. He looked around the room, seeing only distrust and accusations. The servants stood silent, their eyes avoiding his gaze. It was clear. They had already been paid to keep quiet, to cover up the truth.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Ava hissed, her eyes cold as ice. “This was your doing. You killed him.”

“No,” Dimitri whispered, his voice breaking. “I didn’t do this. I swear, I didn’t.”

But no one was listening. Quinn’s voice rang out, louder this time. “Call the police. We need to get rid of him. He’s a murderer.”

Ava nodded, her expression venomous. “You’ve always been a curse, Dimitri. A mistake from the start.”

Within minutes, the police arrived, surrounding Dimitri with their questions and accusations. He was handcuffed, thrown into the back of a squad car, his world shattering around him.

The entire house, the entire world, had turned against him. Every finger pointed at him as the murderer.

But Dimitri didn’t know what was real anymore. He only knew one thing: He was being framed, and the truth was slipping through his fingers like sand.