CASPIAN's POV

The universe has a twisted sense of humor.

Of all the faces I imagined walking through that door for an interview at my company... This was the last.

Dorian. Fucking. Keene.

High school golden boy. The self-declared Alpha who once made it his goddamn mission to grind me into dust.

And now he's sitting across from me-his knees lightly bouncing, his eyes darting, and he was smiling like an eager little lamb on his first day as a staff member in my company. 

If only he knew I remembered everything.

Then again, the way his fingers kept twitching, I think he did.

The shattered glasses. The broken ribs. The blood I tasted while he laughed. The locker slams. The bruised lungs. The time he said I didn't deserve to breathe the same air as him.

I remember it all.

I remember the moment I promised myself: If I ever make it, I will make him regret breathing.

Today is the day I begin collecting on that promise.

The bastard probably thought he had changed, but some people don't evolve-they just wear newer, cleaner masks. Dorian might have grown broader shoulders, trimmed that jawline, and traded varsity jackets for a dress shirt, but underneath that new shell... the same weak, stupid boy.

Still stupid enough to walk into a Lion's den and smile.

But something about him had shifted. He wasn't as cocky. He was... soft around the edges. That sweet cinnamon-roll softness that made the girls in high school swoon and the boys want to be him. Pity good looks don't determine fate.

A little digging had revealed his mother died recently. Poor baby. Life finally got tired of handing him wins.

Now he needed this job like oxygen. Ouch!

"I promise to do my best at this job," he said, his voice trembling. "I promise to put in my all."

He was rubbing his wrists together in small, rapid motions. A tell? Anxiety? My therapist once said it was a subconscious attempt to self-soothe.

I chuckled softly.

"Oh, I'm sure you will. After all, you need to be competent to stay in this company."

He nodded quickly, eager to please. My insides seethed with the memory of being seventeen and bloody-mouthed while he smirked like a god.

"I won't let you down, Mr. Vale," he added.

Mr. Vale. How quaint. I pressed my fist beneath the table to keep from knocking his perfect teeth in.

"Of course," I said coolly. Then I tilted my head. "But I must say... you look completely different from junior high school."

The blood drained from his face. His lips parted. His throat bobbed like he had just swallowed nails. 

"Caspian..." he whispered, looking anywhere but me. "I know we had a little bit of... differences in high school, but surely we can put that behind us?"

I stood, my hands in my pockets, and my smile, a razor-thin one. 

"You already promised to be a good employee," I said. "Let's test that."

I plucked a card from my briefcase and stepped toward him. His lips were parted, still gasping like a beached fish. Without a word, I slid the card between them and watched his eyes blink twice before he clamped down on it in confusion.

He slowly withdrew it and read.

His face paled with every line.

"I... I think there's been a mistake, Mr. Vale."

His smile was hollow. Dead in the eyes.

Perfect.

"Mistake?" I echoed.

He stammered. "I applied for the CFO position. This says I should clean your hotel room, pick up dry cleaning, and fetch your coffee order-Oat milk. No foam..."

I nodded solemnly. "Fourteenth floor. 9:45 AM. Don't be late."

"But..." he began, blinking rapidly.

"And," I interrupted, "I expect a full ten-year financial projection and valuation model for our unreleased AI product by tomorrow. Include three potential acquisition scenarios and a confidential Fortune 100 merger proposal."

He swallowed hard. I pressed on.

"Oh, and draft our Series D investor pitch deck. I want risk modeling, burn rate analysis, exit strategy, and five-year ROI mapping."

His hands were trembling now.

"No one else can help you. NDA sealed."

"I... That's... Sir, that's... usually work for multiple departments..."

"I need it now. Unless you're incapable," I said smoothly, "in which case I will remove you from the field. Your call."

He clutched the card like it was a lifeline. "I will get it done," he said hoarsely.

I gave him one last nod and walked out. There was no way in hell he would be able to complete it all.

And I wasn't going to fire him.

No. I would break him piece by piece. Slowly. Every damn day. His ego. His pride. His perfect face. Until all that's left is a whisper of who he used to be.

~~~~~

9:02 AM.

The boardroom doors creaked open.

And there he was holding my latte.

Every head turned to look at him, and I watched his throat tighten like he was choking on humiliation.

He froze.

"You're interrupting a board meeting," my assistant snapped.

I held up a hand. "He's here with my coffee."

He didn't move.

Then, after a long pause, he walked forward-his shoulders stiff and his eyes on the floor. He placed the coffee in front of me with a half-bow, like a servant in an ancient court.

I didn't say a word. I just let him walk out.

Let him sit with that.

He'll be serving me lattes for far longer than he can survive.

~~~~~

By closing time, I was craving one last crack at his spirit.

"Where's Mr. Keene?" I asked.

"Still in his office, sir. He hasn't left." Deborah replied. 

I smiled.

Perfect.

I entered the elevator and went back to his office. I opened the door without knocking.

"Mr. Keene, you were supposed to have delivered at least one..."

I stopped. Why? 

His head was resting on the desk. He was sleeping on his first day at work. 

Anger coursed through me and I moved closer to his table and there he was... He wasn't sleeping. 

Pills were scattered around him. The compliance update file was still open on his laptop. And his fingers were limp around a pen.

A single breath caught in my throat. "Mr. Keene?"

I stepped closer, slowly picking up the bottle of pills. It was half-empty.

His body didn't stir.

My heart thudded once, loudly.

This wasn't part of the plan.

This wasn't...

At least... Not like this.

"Someone call 911!" I shouted, my voice cracking.

CASPIAN's POV 

"Dorian." I called aloud, tapping my hands on his back but there was no response yet. 

"Is someone not still calling 919?" I shouted, my fingers trembling out of control. 

When there was no response yet and I realized that it seemed more like Dorian wasn't breathing, I pulled him to rest his back on the chair. His mouth was open slightly ajar. 

My heart pounded hard against my chest before I scooped him in my arms, tightly to my chest. 

With him in my arms, I darted out of his office room and made my way towards the elevator. As the elevator took us to the down floor, I shook him repeatedly to see if he would wake up but he seemed pretty much lifeless. 

I literally thought it was a prank earlier or he was slacking off on his first day of work. But rethinking and seeing the condition he was in, it made me realise that he had struggled to pick up the drug's bottle. 

And what were those pills for? 

As the elevator's door opened, I rushed out. Deborah, who was seated and typing away on the laptop stood up with a confused expression on her face. 

"Have you called the hospital's emergency team?" I asked, my voice echoing through the very building. 

She nodded negatively and I was forced to shout, "Call them. Now!"

The security guards a couple of steps away at the entrance ran towards me, trying to lift Dorian away from my arms but unexpectedly, my grip was too firm for them to be able to pull him away. 

My eyes darted around. Deborah was holding the telephone in her ear as she kept on giving explanations to the hospital's emergency team. 

My body burned with impatience. I couldn't wait any longer. I pushed past the security guards and ran towards my car while they gave a hot pursuit. 

As soon as I reached my car, I dropped Dorian's unconscious body into the backseat and got into the driver's seat. I couldn't find Xavier anywhere around. Almost a useless being. Always at the fucking wrong place at the fucking wrong time. Thus, he makes himself unavailable to all. 

I drove out of the compound to the hospital. It took us about twenty minutes to reach there. 

I parked the car at the park, carried Dorian out, leaving the doors open as I screamed for help. Once I entered the hospital, nurses that were around rushed to meet me and took him from me-Not after I glanced at Dorian whose body was pretty much like a rubber. 

They laid him on the stretcher before they willed him into the hospital ward. 

~~~~~

A few minutes later, I couldn't help but to move closer to the ward. The doctor and some nurses were inside the ward attending to Dorian. That, I saw through the glass. 

I blinked my eyes repeatedly as I inhaled deeply. 

Was it all because of me? Did I pressure him too much? Did I rush into my revenge plan? Should I have taken it easy? 

I can pretty much get sued for this if Dorian reports. 

Just as I thought about that, a thought flickered through my mind. "Why are you worried about him? Have you forgotten what he did to you? The marks? The beatings? The assaults in general?"

I raised my eyes again, scanning Dorian's unconscious body. I clenched my fists slowly as I tightened my jaw. 

Why am I regretting it? Why should I regret whatever I had done to him? 

Whatever it is I have done to him can't be matched up with what he had done to me in the past. 

He shouldn't be destroyed so soon. He shouldn't be lying on the hospital bed now. Because I haven't avenged myself yet. This was just the beginning of his misery and he was already broken? 

Well... This is not my regret. Not quite in any way. This is pure irritation and anger at myself for not doing what I had promised to do. 

And I will only achieve this when he crawls, begs, and bleeds slowly. I won't give him the slightest chance to collapse in a pool of his own self-destruction after just a few humiliations.

Every moment he spends at Vale Enterprises will make him wish for his own death. 

A smirk played on my lips as I walked away and just as I turned right towards the hospital's hallway, beneath my calculated rage, something sharp stirred-memories I had buried behind Armani suits and tailored cruelty. 

I only remembered them earlier. I didn't get flashy images of them but now... 

High school echoes bled into the sterile lights of the hospital hallway. Dorian's voice sounded like cracked glass in my ears. 

My vision blurred and I shut my ears. My breathing increased rapidly and I felt tears clog my eyes. I gripped a nearby door's handle as I tried to catch my breath but to no avail. 

"Will you save me, Capsian?" I heard Dorian's pleading voice and I was forced to open my eyes. 

My legs shook as I turned around to see him walking towards me, a devilish smirk on his face-The same he always had in high school. 

My feet wobbled beneath me. My breath caught. The air was still tense. 

"Will you say something, Mr. Vale?" Dorian's voice dripped eerily when he arrived in front of me. His eyes locked onto mine with the utmost cruelty. 

I stepped backward. One at a time. And Dorian seemed to follow each of it, his gaze never leaving mine. 

My back touched the wall behind and I gasped. Fear crept into my chest as I dugged my fingernails into the hem of my suit. 

"Please... I... I... Don't hurt me," I begged, sinking to my knees and sending my hands over my head quickly. "Please..." 

"Hahaha. Didn't you want to destroy me?" He laughed, his voice growing thicker. 

"I dare not." I cried, my voice cracking. 

"Time will tell. But know that before you destroy me, I will destroy you. I did it before... and I will do it again." Dorian's voice faded into the distance but it sent shivers down my spine. 

Tears poured out of my eyes as I remained in the same position until a warm sensation from the sudden touch of a hand jolted me up. 

"Dr. McMasters?" I gasped, my chest rising and falling at the same time before I sank into his arms, my eyes closing shut. 

I was yet back to square one. Scared of Dorian like I had always been. When can a weak, insecured, useless, fragile me get my revenge on Dorian?

CASPIAN's POV 

I should've taken the long way.

My fingers curled tighter around the straps of my backpack as I stepped into the east hallway-the one by the gym. The floor was always slick there, like sweat never really dried on it. 

I hated this hallway. I always did.

Voices echoed behind the lockers. Laughter. The kind that didn't sound like anyone was telling a joke.

I kept my head down.

The bell hadn't even rung yet, but I was already late to homeroom. My math binder was barely holding together with duct tape, and the heel of my right shoe was flapping like a broken tongue.

I passed the janitor's closet. That's when I felt it.

Whoosh. 

A heavy, soaking slap of water crashed over my head, drenching my hoodie and jeans in one second flat. It wasn't a spill. It wasn't an accident.

It was a damn bucket full of water. 

There was a sharp inhale-someone pretending to be shocked-and then the hallway erupted in laughter.

"Oops," a voice said, thick with mock innocence. "Guess someone needed a shower."

I stood there, dripping, frozen. The water slithered down my back, into my socks. My backpack sagged, soaked through. Even my boxers were wet.

It wasn't just the cold. It was the heat that burned my skin-the flush of shame crawling up my neck, the way every pair of eyes felt like a spotlight.

"Didn't know rats could walk upright," another voice muttered. That was Dorian. Of course it was Dorian.

I turned to look at him. He was leaning against the lockers, holding the empty bucket like it was a trophy. He smirked-perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect smug bastard.

"You're a piece of shit," I said, too quiet.

"What was that?" He cupped his hand to his ear. "Did the drowned rat just squeak something?"

More laughter. The kind that echoed.

I swallowed hard. My hands were clenched at my sides, but I didn't move. What was I gonna do? Hit him? Then I would be the nerd weirdo who got suspended. Again.

So I did what I always did. I walked. Away. 

Each squelching step down that hallway felt like a mile. My jeans clung to my thighs, heavy and humiliating. My face burned, but I didn't cry. I wouldn't cry. 

The bathroom mirror didn't lie.

I looked like hell-hair matted down, water dripping off my ears, hoodie clinging to me like a second skin. I peeled it off slowly, my arms trembling, not from the cold, but from everything else I couldn't name.

I wrung it out over the sink. My t-shirt underneath was just as drenched. There was no point trying to save it.

So I took it off too.

My chest was pale and scrawny. I could already imagine the whispers. The stares. But I had a test today-History, third period. I had to take it. I couldn't let Mr. Elms mark me absent. Not again.

I looked down at my shoes. Water sloshed inside them when I shifted. No way I could walk in those.

So I kicked them off. Socks too. They made that horrible peeling sound when I pulled them away from my skin.

And then I walked.

Shirtless. Barefoot. Backpack clinging to one shoulder like dead weight.

My heart pounded harder with every step toward Room 3B.

The classroom was already quiet when I pushed the door open. Heads turned. Then came the laughter-sharp and instant, like knives to the chest.

"What the hell..."

"Yo, did he come from a pool party?"

"Damn, someone forgot their dignity!"

Even the girls were laughing. Covering their mouths like it helped. I didn't look at any of them. Not even Emma, who once lent me a pencil and smiled like I mattered.

Mr. Elms stood at the board, the blue marker still in his hand, his brow wrinkling behind his glasses.

"Caspian?" He said.

I nodded once. "Sorry, I'm late. I... I had an accident in the hallway. But I'm okay."

"You... uh... you can go to the nurse, if..."

"No." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I'm fine. I just... I want to take the test."

A few more chuckles. Someone faked a sneeze and said, "wet dog."

I didn't react.

I walked to my seat slowly, water squelching beneath me with every step. My skin stuck to the cold plastic chair as I sat, my eyes fixed on the paper in front of me.

The laughter died off eventually, replaced by the sound of pens scratching and chairs creaking. The room moved on, but I hadn't.

I couldn't stop the shaking in my fingers. I couldn't stop the lump in my throat, the way it throbbed like it was trying to choke me from the inside. My chest felt exposed, not just from the missing shirt-but from everything.

But I still picked up my pen.

Because I had to pass. I had to be more than the boy with soaked jeans and bruised pride.

I blinked back the burn behind my eyes. And I started writing.

After the test, I turned to carry my bag and leave the room. Then, I saw Dorian standing next to me. An evil smirk on his face. 

My breath hitched. 

~~~~~

That was just one of the episodes where I was bullied by Dorian Keene in front of the other students. I was seen as a rat in the midst of the others. I was never accepted nor was I welcomed. 

"Mr. Vale?" Dr. McMasters' voice came from the left side and I was forced to open my eyes. 

I sat up gently with his help. "Mr. Vale, you have to be more careful. Why were you having such attacks again? It's been months since you last had one." 

"I don't know why." I lied right through my nose. 

Years back, I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. And it was all because of the assaults I faced in high school. 

The sleepless nights still haunt me. I remember the assault-every flash of it. How I ended up dumped in the trash like I was nothing. How I almost collided with a trailer, dazed and broken.

Now, I can't sleep unless every light in my room is on. I still hide inside my wardrobe-the only place that feels safe.

And when the PTSD hits, I lose control. I cry like a baby. I run around the house, frantic, like I'm trying to outrun the memories. But they always catch up.

I thought I had it under control. I really thought I did. But no. Dorian is back.

He is the face behind every sleepless night. My nightmare in human form. And yet... he's also my obsession-the one I need to crush to finally breathe freely. To destroy him, I can't be weak. I must be sharper. Stronger. Fearless.

"Mr. Vale, are you still using your medication?" The doctor asked, his tone careful, clinical.

I nodded too quickly. "Yes. I was just... worked up. That's all. Thanks for caring."

My voice came out smoother than I felt, like I hadn't just passed through another episode of PTSD, trembling like a child.

I got to my feet, brushing imaginary dust off my suit, willing my fingers to stop shaking as I slipped it back on.

"I'll recommend something stronger. You can pick it up at the pharmacy unit," he said, scribbling with quick strokes before tearing out a slip of paper.

I took it with a nod and a stiff smile, tucking the prescription into my jacket's front pocket like it was a secret I wasn't ready to admit.

Just as I turned to leave, a thought flickered-dangerous, bitter. I almost ignored it. Almost.

"What's wrong with Mr. Keene?" I asked, too casually. "You know him, right?"

The doctor froze just a second before responding. "Yes, but... you know I can't share patient details. That's confidential, unless he gives permission."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice like the truth might be hiding between the tiles on the floor. "Come on. I'm not a stranger. Please. Just tell me something."

"Mr. Vale, I can't break the rules. You know that. I hope you understand."

I didn't. But I forced a tight nod. My fingers curled around the doorknob until the cold metal bit into my palm.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway-but my mind was racing, spinning, burning with possibilities.

How do I push Dorian? How do I pull the strings until he unravels like I did?

But fate didn't wait. The door to Dorian's ward opened-and just like that, there he was.

He was standing and smiling faintly, as if he hadn't ripped me apart and left me in a trash heap of my own fear.

I froze. My eyes narrowed. My voice, when it came, was steel dipped in ice. "Mr. Keene, such incompetence will not be tolerated at my company."

He blinked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. "Excuse me... who are you?"

I nearly laughed. A dry, sharp scoff escaped before I could stop it. "Are you seriously pretending? I'm your boss. Vale Enterprises?"

He tilted his head, like my words were smoke he couldn't catch. "Vale Enterprises..." he echoed, then frowned. "I know the name. But no company like that would ever hire me. I mean... my resume is a disaster."

His eyes met mine, steady. Almost too steady.

"By the way... who are you?"

He's pretending. He is trying to play lost. Playing innocent. Like he didn't brand my soul with scars I still hide from.

Fine. Let him play. But he won't win.

"Mr. Keene, you..."

"Mr. Vale," a nurse interrupted sharply, her tone firm as she stepped between us. "Please don't disturb the patient."

She gently guided Dorian back into the ward-like he was fragile. Like he deserved kindness.

The doors shut behind them. 

And I stood alone in the hallway, my jaw clenched, my hands shaking with a cocktail of rage and memories.

"You're not getting out that easily," I whispered.

He was once the monster who haunted my dreams. Now he's my employee. My pawn. And I swear by everything in me-he will pay for every sin.