A Miserable Love

It was sickeningly solemn.

The clinking of plates, and metallic scrape of forks resonating filled peals across the room. My eyes dimly blurred with every bite; I couldn't stomach eating breakfast, and my figure refused. I felt the cramped inferiority of my existence within this family.

Across the table, my eyes briefly met another. Saint.

Such a unique name for a devilish person, labeled as 'Saint' but fully embodying a fiend.

Seven years ago, I had once considered him as a close 'brother' yet just a half year ago, he became the lunatic who wished me hell and my parent's downfall.

I inwardly scoffed, shifting to my seat as I hesitantly excused myself from the dining room.

I dropped my gaze and pushed back my chair. “Excuse me,” I muttered, my voice barely audible.

No one cared to respond. The 'Madam'—the partner of the head of this wretched family—waved a hand dismissively as a sign while I bowed and left.

The hallway stretched endlessly as I walked, my fingers trailing the intricate carvings of the Palladian windows.

This wasn't my home.

This house that I lived in wasn't where I truly belonged; this family wasn't mine, and neither was the life they'd forced on me. The people who lived here weren't people I could trust.

My reflection felt imprisoned, living fairly in a capacious mansion but seemingly cramped like a caged animal.

My parents— they've been murdered, covered up in a car accident. It was missing details, someone set them up. Way back seven years ago, I was taken in by the Leone family, the corporate partner, and mentioned to be close acquaintances with my parents.

As far as I know, the Leone group is undergoing an illegal business and operating as a criminal organization behind. Surely, my mother's hatred for such people must have ignited alarming reactions from the Leones.

The crime incident was planned meticulously, from start to finish. They made sure all was wiped out, however, they spared the Liu's descendant, Winter Liu.

My eyes observed the distorted reflection of my figure on the window.

I wonder why? During that very day, I was supposed to go with them. Yet, Saint— At that time, the seemingly frail boy with blonde hair and hauntingly pure eyes who was always quiet when he was sent to me as a playmate wailed for the first time we were always together. He threw a tantrum and gripped my clothes, begging me to stay with him to play.

The vivid faces of my parents who then felt pity for Saint, urged me to stay with him. They reasoned that it was fine for them to go by themselves.

“Winter, stay with Saint for a while,” my mother had said gently, her eyes softening at his tears. “We’ll be back soon.”

By then, I was left alone in our mansion with him.

I didn’t want to stay. But Saint had clung to me, his small hands fisting the fabric of my dress as he sobbed uncontrollably as if fearing I would disappear.

After creating a scene, he didn't speak nor did I try to.

That entire day, he never spoke a word to me, but his grip never loosened. Saint clung beside me, his face was buried in my side, and he cried until his voice was hoarse, whispering my name like a prayer.

Winter..." Saint hiccupped, tears continuously flowing. "W-Winter... Winter..."

He continuously muttered as I just patted his back softly. That eleven-year-old boy just seemed pure and pitiful. I felt this was the reason why mother felt pity for him; she mentioned Saint had such a lonesome childhood in their family.

Honestly, I wondered why he eagerly forced me to stay with him to play. However, he did not seem to show signs of being eager to play at that time and we only clinged to each other the whole day.

At that time, I felt responsible and pity for the same-aged boy beside me.

Even then, there was something unnerving about him. Something I couldn’t fathom.

———

"Winter..." A familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts.

Glancing back at the window, my hand softly gripped the window's handle, gradually opening it.

As the wind gushed inside, the figure came close and slowly wrapped his arm around my waist. Consequently, he pulled me into his embrace, leaving a kiss on my ear and then resting his head on the crook of my neck.

His grip hinted at deep affection yet just as equal aggression as he bit into the flesh of my neck provocatively.

"...Ah!" I winced in response. It was obvious his lips were forming a smile markedly on my neck as he softly kissed it.

"Why'd you leave breakfast so early?" He voiced out, affectionately pecking my hair.

"..." I stiffened, refusing to answer. My gaze locked on the sprawling garden beyond the glass.

He scoffed as he continued to lock me in his embrace, slowly covering a hand to block my sight, "What were you thinking about?" He whispered near my ear with a kiss on the same spot.

"Winter, you'd better forget about it." He muttered.

"Look at that," he said, removing his hand to guide my gaze. "The little white dove we cared for when we were young is back; I bought it just for you."

Near the greenhouse, a small ornamental cage adorned with red salvias hung beside the hibiscus plants I had been tending. Inside it was a white dove, its feathers pristine and pure. Wrapped around one of its fragile legs was a red salvia.

The dove struggled, its wings beating against the bars, but it couldn’t escape

Bang!— The sound of a gunshot tore through the air, and my heart lurched.