Page 36 of Crown of Thorns
Well, things are about to change,because that’s not my modus operandi. I pull out my phone and send another message.
Little Devil: Merry fucking Christmas. I’ll be seeing you soon, Professor.
What? I’m a simple guy who feels hard. For my family, for plenty of things in life. Thegoodthings in life. Parties. Champagne. Sex. Cooking. I don’t hide and I don’t run. I don’tpretend. I fight and win.
And right now, it’s Noah I’m fighting. Thank fuck, I'm a winner. And Noah Montague? He was mine the moment he let me in. He just hasn’t figured it out.
10
NOAH
“Ididn’t know what to expect during the gathering of this brotherhood,” I tell the camera. The brotherhood gathering? I didn’t know whether to expect a prank or a power play. Turns out it was both. “Perhaps a prank. Or some rich kid version of hazing. It was nighttime when I went to my office and opened my drawer. The cape and Venetian mask were there. The mask was pretty, golden embroidery on black ceramic. Beautiful, yes, but also unsettling, like a disguise meant to conceal more than just a face.”
Magnificent.Terrifying as hell.
By the time Louis came to pick me up, I’d even opened one of his bottles of champagne. I needed to relieve some of the tension.
“You look dangerously good like that,” is all he said, before putting the rim to his mouth and swallowing down the drink.
There were many things I wanted to say in return. But I didn’t. Because my throat felt as dry as the Sahara. My throat felt like sandpaper, dry and rough. Then Louis kissed me like he was starving. Like he was desperate for my touch. He lavished me in his usual, obsessive, possessive way, making my entire body buzz with need.
I couldn’t get enough. I craved it. Hated it.
His own mask was also golden, his cloak black. We looked identical as we walked side by side. I expected us to return to the hallway with the hidden door, to solve its mystery at last. But we didn’t. Instead, we turned into another passage, narrow, dim, and utterly deserted at midnight. Silent cloaks glided past us like shadows, not a word spoken.
A pause lingers, a moment of silence, the weight of unspoken fears hanging thick in the air.
“And that was just the beginning.” I blink in the camera. “We went down the stairs and followed the line through the dungeons, where we were led into a dimly lit room. There he stood, the man with the cane. Their leader.”
That crow. The head of his cane was carved into the face of one—a crown-shaped mask, its beak slightly opened, as if mid-caw. Ornate, regal, and watching.
I stop the video here. Goosebumps have filled my cold arms and neck. My skin crawls as I realize how deep the darkness runs beneath the surface.
I thought Louis meant it when he said we were going to have some fun. Instead, this brotherhood, the Alpha Fraternarii, operates like a cult. They call each other Brother, repeat values as if they’ve been brainwashed. If Louis hadn’t occasionally smirked my way, I would have thought he was exactly that. Brainwashed.
The professional in me is shivering. It's yet another proof of all the darkness that surrounds the light. Of depravity that takes place behind closed doors. What’s worse is that these are tomorrow’s leaders. Our billionaires. Our presidents. Our CEOs. Their sons already engaging in secretive dealings beneath the castle, in spaces drenched in wealth, power, and ritualistic pleasure. Because that was the other Louis failed to mention.
It was the reason I'd fled the scene, their orgy hitting home like a dagger slashed through skin, tearing flesh apart and making it bleed, and hurt.
Taking in a deep breath I turn back on the camera. I pause, letting the weight of what I’m saying settle. “Nearly twenty million euros was donated to charity funds, and that tells me that they care for approval of their own. Colleagues in the field of Sociology have been able to prove that the notion of being watched improves a person’s behaviour. This gathering was the perfect example of that. In a good way, by throwing money in good causes and being able to brag over it, and in a more dubious way. By using sex as power. They’d hired sex workers, but also enjoyed each other. I?—”
“Noons? Are you coming?”
I startle at Melo’s call, the camera nearly slipping from my hands. I hadn't realized I'm sweating.
“Everything’s ready for Snackmas!” She sings.
“Coming.” Lifting my glasses to rub my eyes and nose, I take in a deep breath and try to shake that night away. To extinguish my fear and bitterness, and this lingering desire for Louis.
I've done it. I've indulged in his dirty little secret. It has even led to relevant research I can use. But now, this has to end. No more destroying my career and future.
Obsession has a way of blurring lines, between what I want, what I need, and what I’m willing to lose. It’s exhausting, and I’m barely holding myself together.
His voice tastes like honeyed smoke, and it drags me under every time.
I tell myself I’m done. That I’m stronger than this. That I’ll walk away next time. But even now, I’m still tasting him. And I’m still sinking.
I’m working out in the park when my phone buzzes with a message. It has been over a week since Louis last phoned me. Over a week, he made me come just from his filthy words. And during those days, I've watched countless hours of bad movies and eaten loads of chocolate bars.
