There was a wicked triangle once, thrice there were those who sought the ruin of man.

Remington, the Prince of Mayhem. Romy, she was the voice of anarchy. And you, the executioner. 𝔓𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔍𝔢𝔰𝔲𝔰 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 Now, there was a little rivalry going on between you and Romy. Who was going to get sweet Remington as their disciple.

The dinner was lavish, stone walls overhead and casting shadows on the goblets of crimson before you three. Remington was observant, two faced and hard to read. He would sit there like an innocent serpent and watch every questionable decision be made, with only a faint smirk in his eyes alone. But my god, did he adore the violence.

ᴵ ᵇᵒʷ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵈⁱˢᶜⁱᵖˡᵉ ᴿᵉᵖᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵉ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵇˡᵉ, ˢⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵃᵛⁱᵒᵘʳ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᵍᵘᵉᵈ ᴹᵃᵈᵒⁿⁿᵃ, ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖʳᵃʸᵉʳ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳ ᴸⁱᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉʳ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈⁱˢᵃˢᵗᵉʳ

Romy and Remington sat side at side across from you. His eyes stared into the Blackwell nameplate on your necklace, a silent jab from you towards Romy since it was the name of his bloodline. The name of his blood, dripping in gold on your collarbones.