Dear Immortal Tyrant

Sometimes Lina wondered where it all went wrong. On the days where her wine glass was empty and bottles littered the floor by her legs, the moon was hazy, and her eyes glistened, she'd retract her steps. 

Amidst the success of her life, amidst every money she earned, and her new shiny reputation as one of the best Art Curators in Ritan, Lina wondered why she had grown addicted to wine. The liquor was sweet. Addictive, even, but it filled her with more coldness than warmth. Like his caress.

Lina knew when and where everything fell down. Definitely, it was the invisible distrust. He grasped love with a tight hold and she reached for anything that loved her. 

On the morning Lina woke up, everything began and ended. Engulfed in the frosty room, her hopes were shattered, lying by her feet like the pieces of her heart. What a bittersweet thing love was.

"We're here," Estella stated. 

Estella glanced at the large crowd gathered outside of the museum. Cameramen, paparazzi, interns, and newly qualified journalists were pushing to enter, but none could even get a picture of the exclusive guests or even the front entrance.

Today was a private show. 

"What's with the crowd?" Lina asked.

"The largest donor to Ritan's museum decided to take a visit alongside his peer," Estella explained, parking the car on the other side of the street. "Should we have security escort you inside?"

"No need. Let them see." 

Let him see, Lina meant to say. Let him drown in guilt and grow bitter from what he had lost. Lina knew the higher she climbed in her field, the more eyes were on her. So, Lina continued the treacherous path, step by step, until the tip of the pyramid was beneath her feet. Until, Lina wasn't just her surname. On the day Lina raked in the most profit that any art exhibition had ever witnessed, her name was solidified in the industry.

Perhaps that was why the crowd parted like the red sea. The movement was slow at first. Then, they spotted her. Black hair, red lips, and an elegance none could compare, the crowd knew who she was.

"Director Lina!"

"It's the art curator, quick, get a photo!"

"Director Lina, are you here to catch a glimpse of the newly unearthed relic?"

"Any comments on the donors inside?"

The crowd pushed to get a better look at her, but strangely, none dared to touch her. Despite the lack of protection or security, the people knew. They knew better than to get near her. 

Lina's presence was enough to keep people in line. She offered a rare smile, answered none of the questions, and silently climbed up the steps.

"They say this is a crucial piece from the industrial era of Ritan, can you comment more about it, Director Lina?!"

Lina froze at the question. The industrial era of Ritan, during the early 1900s when guns ruled the street, jazz clubs sparked across the city, on-the-rise wealthy merchants purchased more lands than a lord, and when two lovers met their tragic end. 

"Rumor has it the items were owned by the daughter of a wealthy heiress who met her tragic end. As a History major, have you heard of it?"

"It seems you've heard more than me," Lina responded, amusement dripping from her lips.

The journalist let out a laugh at her joke, but by the time he recovered, she was long gone. Lina ascended the staircase, relieved by the silence and serenity of the museum. Just as the crowd implied, the entire museum was closed off. 

Standing at the top of the staircase was a team of security positioned near a velvet rope. They didn't even have to check Lina's identification. Just her title and name alone granted the woman access. That, and she eluded a charisma that forced others to stop for her, not the other way around.

"Do you see that pitiful journalist down there?" Lina asked one of the guards, pointing to the one being squished near the back of the crowd. "Yes, the one with the red cap. Let him in."

"He will need an invitation or pardon from a donor—"

"Pardoned by me," Lina said.

The guard paused, took a good look at her, and reluctantly nodded his head. As he walked past her, Lina brushed into the museum.

Lina's gaze swept across the museum where she had poured a good chunk of money in, enough for an enormous fountain behind the museum to be dedicated in her name and honor. 

As Lina set foot into the museum, memories came flooding back to her. This was where their first encounter in this life took place. Without warning, her legs took her to the exact spot. But when she reached the entrance to the historical section of Ritan, Lina tightly gripped the wall and turned back.

"Help Isabelle," Lina reminded herself, heading straight for the closed-off section.

Since some big shot supposedly closed the entire place down for the private reveal of the artifacts, Lina wondered why she was allowed entrance. When her heels echoed down the museum, bouncing off the silent walls, she received her answer.

Lina supposed she always should've known. In this entire world, only she had the face and name to go anywhere she pleased, so long as he ruled that territory. She hated the privilege.

Suddenly, another footstep echoed just behind hers. She paused, but didn't turn around. She knew from the heaviness of his steps that it was not the man she was always looking for. Amidst a crowd, his face was all she searched for—out of bad habits. 

He walked with silence. 

"Atlantis."

Atlantis walked with stealth.

Lina turned around, already predicting he was one of the first to break the rules set by a hotshot. Slowly and quietly, Lina's attention fell to the woman beside Atlantis. The woman was stunning. She wore simple flats and a plain dress, but her aura made it feel like a ball gown and heels.

"Lina," Atlantis breathed out, almost astonished to see her. His eyes widened briefly, like he couldn't imagine she was in front of him.

"Is it really you?" Atlantis pressed on.

"No, I'm just your hallucination." Lina proceeded down the hallways, leaving the two stunned and staring.

Lina wondered if Atlantis would believe her. He probably would. Thinking about his words, Lina nearly laughed under her breath. 

Did Atlantis dream of her still? Was he that shameless to do so, after all that he'd done to her? The marriage certificate. That damn piece of paper. The bastard refused to file for a divorce. She had to threaten to kill him on the spot, and he had the audacity to adjust the gun to his forehead. Irritable man.

"Lina, Lina wait!" Atlantis insisted, chasing her down the empty hallways.

Lina turned and entered another section, slipping through another doorway. The minute she did so, she instantly regretted her decision. Somehow, someway, she found herself back to the very spot she didn't want to be.

Like a sailor drawn to a siren, Lina found herself approaching a painting. 

"The Second King of Ritan."

The immortal. The tyrant.. The man she despised.