Dear Immortal Tyrant

Time didn't wait for anyone. Love never looked back. Once the heart was laid on the ground, slain and shredded, there was no piecing it back together. Love was a match burning to the ground, taking with it hopes and aspirations. Ashes filled the skies, falling like the first snow, but in reality, it was the ruination of a love story.

In Lina Yang's eyes, fairy tales and princesses were no more. She rewrote the last page of her fairy tale and turned it into tragedy.

With Atlantis and Kaden's betrayal, Lina knew better than to fall in love again. The day she left Atlantis at the altar and Kaden in the hallways was the very moment she realized love was nothing but a glass cage—breakable and thin.

"Those gossip columns, I'm going to whack their Chief in Editor one day," Isabelle complained, crossing her arms with a deep scowl. "How dare they publish fake news?"

"It's very similar to our youth," Krystal suddenly said in a soft, gentle voice. "Back in our early twenties."

"Our youth? What is that supposed to mean?" Isabelle complained. "We're only twenty-six, we're as young as youth gets!"

Krystal chuckled at her bright nature. Despite the years of maturity, Isabelle's persistence remained.

"It's like when Lina was falsely accused of swindling two heirs," Krystal informed Isabelle.

"But Lina did nothing wrong," Isabelle deadpanned.

"Nor did the heiress you've mentioned," Krystal mused. "Gossip is just untold stories."

Lina paid the conversation no mind. She touched her necklace, adjusting it with unease. She glanced at the time and realized she was scheduled to meet an angered artist whose art piece wasn't sold as part of the three-painting package just a few days ago. He had been unable to finish the project on time and the clients were impatient, as most wealthy elites were.

"Love conquers all though!" Isabelle complained. "Like the fairytales of a destined lover!"

Lina felt a nerve was touched, but she let it slide. Isabelle didn't know of Lina's dreams and memories.

"The constellations that decide destiny can be changed." Lina uncrossed her legs and stood to her feet, offering an apologetic smile.

"I must cut our meeting short today, there's a disgruntled artist I have to meet," Lina explained, picking up her purse from the chair near them.

"Before you go," Isabelle insisted, quickly grabbing her by the wrist. "You must remember."

"I know," Lina said before Isabelle could elaborate. "It's mindless slandering like the pens that used to ruin me."

Lina glanced down and saw Isabelle's worried expression. Her lips were dipped into a deep frown. Isabelle's brows were taut, watching over her friend.

To cheer Isabelle up, Lina offered a slight smile to show she was alright. The news didn't bother her. A hand grabbing Kaden's elbow didn't hurt. Kaden's molten gaze upon her didn't stab her in the heart, at all.

Five years had passed.

Lina swore she would not love again.

"Those pictures of the artifact," Lina suddenly mentioned. "I'll make sure your editors are granted access."

"Lina—"

"See you later, cuties," Lina stated, pinching Isabelle on the cheek and offering Krystal a larger smile.

Before the two could protest, Lina headed out of the door. The bitter wind of Autumn swept over her hair, sending it furling behind her. Dry leaves blew past her shoulders. In the corner of her eye, a sleek black car zoomed down the street. Despite the speed, she saw it. Two pairs of eyes watching her. Everything happened in slow motion. In a blink, the car was gone.

"Director?" Estella greeted outside, hanging up her phone and turning around. "I was just about to inform you the meeting will start in fifteen minutes."

Lina tore her attention away from the spot where the car had been parked. She tightened her grip on her purse, forced a nod, and accompanied Estella into the vehicle.

"To the meeting then," Lina stated, checking her wristwatch. After the meeting, she'd need to rearrange a few artist portfolios and search for one that'd satisfy the upcoming art exhibition for her high school reunion. How many years had it been?

Lina would need to contact the artists soon and check on the status of their paintings based on the curatorial concepts, or choose from their existing body of works. Tying her woolen coat tighter around her waist, she continued to stare out the window.

"We're here," Estella stated.

Lina was the first to step out of the car. She didn't think she'd ever be a mediator in her life, but some things just had to be done. Taking neutral sides whilst showing sympathy and compassion was something that she was seldomly good at, but she put her best foot forward. To pacify the disgruntled artist, she would need to explain the situation.

Just as Estella opened the meeting room door, Lina's heart dropped to her stomach. Red. There was red everywhere. The color of blood, passion, and flames. Her heart stopped in her chest. She was startled by the scene before her.

The entire meeting room was painted with red strokes. Intricate markings with an enormous brush of various shades. She shakily set foot inside, but Estella grabbed her.

"Director, wait!" Estella demanded, fearing for Lina's life.

Lina was shell-shocked by the meeting room that used to be different shades of white that was barely noticeable. An artistic choice, she used to say. But to think the artist painted the entire meeting room in the requirements of Krystal's favorite color and abstract style.

With a dry glance, Lina could only know this was the work of an angered artist. She turned to Estella.

"That's one way of delivering the piece," Lina wryly said, her nose stinging with paint chemicals. Undried paint dripped down the side of the walls, adding more dimension to the room. She bit back a complaint and let out a small laugh.

"Should this be a warning sign?" Lina mused.

"Director, it's not funny," Estella stated. "I can't get in contact with him. He might be dangerous."

"What a pity, really, the work would've been lovely on a canvas. If he had time to paint the meeting room, why didn't he finish his piece?" Lina asked herself. With a small sigh of disappointment, she shook her head and turned on her heels.

"Since we have free time before our next meeting, let's head to the museum, I must let Isabelle's poor editor through," Lina said to Estella.

Estella was midway texting her detective friend. She raised her head. "I've contacted the police."

"Estella."

"He might pose a threat," Estella insisted. "Director, your life is important."

Sure it was.

Lina reassured Estella with a slight nod of her head. Then, she accompanied Estella out of the building, where her security guards were already waiting. She took a final glance at the meeting room dripping red like blood.

Could the day get any worse?