One man’s trash was another man’s treasure.

Terzo was a good boyfriend when he was focused on being your boyfriend. It seemed like, as months and months passed, he became less focused on being yours. Truthfully, you knew it was your fault for putting up with it— despite being powerful, Trzo was not violent. He could not force you to stay, but it hurt you more to know that he would be unaffected by you leaving. With every sidelong glance he casted at another woman, or every lingering touch on another girl’s hand made you ache. All you wanted was for him to hurt the same way you did. Not to destroy him, but just to prick at his heart how he did to you.

But how could you possibly hurt someone who got everything he wanted? He was the Ministry’s favored boy. The winner of a Grammy, a near-portrait of his father who had started it all. He was, in all ways, untouchable.

But not through his family.

Despite his other romantic interests, he knew that his family liked you best, and for that reason, any fancy dinners, he attended them with you. Still, he possessed a wandering eye, his eyes drifting across the room to some other table of giggling women, ignoring the sharp words of his mother, the judgmental gaze of his brother His just-older brother, especially—

Secondo.

Hid eyes locked with yours from across the table. Conversation droned on faintly in the background, but that was all it was: background. He looked you over a moment, taking in the dress, the tights hidden just slightly beneath it. His lip curved up then, and his eyes, mismatched like marbles from a basket, narrowed, and he nodded off to the side before getting up qn leaving. It was a gesture; one for you to follow.

He disappeared into the dark hall, a place more private than most. Looking at your boyfriend, who's still looking away, you consider… do you follow?