The human brain is akin to a supercomputer built on top of a clunker. The clunker is your primitive, reptilian, survival brain. The supercomputer is what does your proper calculation, is logical, clever and connects the dots together. However, when stress takes over, the bandwidth of the supercomputer falls drastically, tossing us back to a primal and basic way of thinking.

I haven't felt this so deeply, ever.

"And how does that concern me?" I say nonetheless, and he is still smiling coolly. A subtle laugh escapes his laugh and he uncrosses his legs, "A lady with class. Minding your business, I see, Miss Crimson," he dismisses my cold attitude smoothly, "How unique."

"I'm sure you did have other intentions than just complimenting me," I smile back and snap my spectacle case open and put on the black rimmed glasses on my face, shrouding my eyes from his view. He dismisses me coolly again, however my annoyance increases with each passing second. "Right," he nods, "Approaching the reason for my arrival, I'd like to start with the fact that you've been spotted at Wolfe Theodore's side quite often recently," he nods, "And have been quite close to him as a child. What a surprise."

The little hairs on the back of my neck stand up when he calls Wolfe by the name, not bothering with prefixes, or suffixes even. "I don't quite understand where you're heading, Mr. Deveraux," I cough, "However, you seem quite interested in how I'm associated with Mr. Theodore."

"A beautiful and equally smart woman by a multimillionaire businessman's side," he laughs in the typical relative-type way, "Who wouldn't be curious?"

"Curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Deveraux," I battled his cool smile with an icy one of my own, "Conspiracy theories sure serve like rum for people."

"Wise words coming from a smart-"

"I'd rather prefer it if you'd refrain from complimenting me at every step; I like my snack sweet but I don't to be diabetic anytime soon, Mr. Deveraux." The smile on my face has now dissipated into a businesslike expression. With every passing second, this man inspires the serial killer inside me to act out. Suppressing it is hard work and I'm more of a lazy person. He dismisses my coldness smoothly once more.

"You seem quite stressed and bothered by my claims," he counters.

"People live their lives bound by what they accept as correct and true. That's how they define 'reality'," I pause, enjoying the shift in his features from a sleek smile to a thoughtful expression, "Your claims are merely vague concepts- your reality might be a mirage, Mr. Deveraux," I smile back, flipping the power back to my hands, "Don't mistake your concepts to be the definite truth."

"How practical," he laughs, "So very different from the typical Hawthorne woman, Miss Crimson-Hawthorne."

It is suspicion that sends a cyclone of adrenaline whipping through my body. Ominous winds pummeling my ribs. Toxic rain corroding my skin, contaminating my veins and muscles and sinews.

"Mr. Deveraux," I grind the words out, "I am not interested if the point of your visit was to remind me of my extended family."

"You seem to loathe the subject, Miss Crimson," he smiles like a serpent, "Anything wrong?"

It's not just anything- it's everything. Frequent articles about me and Wolfe out and about, Wolfe asking a spy that I've met before to stay away from me, some random rich dude buying his way up through the list of my clients in waiting, questioning me about my relationship with Wolfe indirectly and finally driving the last nail in the coffin by mentioning my Hawthorne bloodline.

No, there's something wrong. And that's my analysis.

This isn't some random rich dude.

"Hate is a big word, Mr. Deveraux," I laugh back, retaining my cool and composure, "A huge accomplishment, to have emotions, that is," I smirk, "After so many people walk in and out of the door, you learn how to close it."

"Yet your thoughts, which I can see quite clearly," his lip twitches, "-seem to contradict your words."

"Then you should hear some of those unfiltered thoughts, Mr. Deveraux," I almost snarl, "I don't like wasting my time on a conversation that is heading nowhere, either."

I don't know how long we stare at each other, none of us backing down just to prove our points. His eyes are the lightest shade of brown- they could be easily mistaken for an ochre color with flecks of deep flaxen yellow. It has often been rightly said that a person's eyes could speak way more than they ever have with their mouths- so it is both a strength and a weakness. Knowing this fact, it is difficult for the same person to make sure they aren't wearing their hearts on their sleeves either.

The click of my pen is the only sound. It bounces off the walls and the tables- an eternal reminder of the deafening silence. The grandfather clock in the room does no less to prove the depth of the silences too.

"Achelois Crimson," he stars again, "Enlisted twice in the Women's Thirty Under Thirty," he makes a face as if acknowledging the extent of my success, "Received a special invitation to the Annual Corporate Party, 2021," he makes a small clap, but it is laced with more mockery than appreciation, "A dangerous new face shows in the business industry. How intriguing."

"It doesn't make sense for you to acknowledge me as dangerous and still come over to have what you call a leisurely chat with me, and what I call a waste of my precious time, Mr. Deveraux," I state clearly, without any traces of enmity, "You sure have a knack for dicing with death, Pyrrhos."

"Satisfaction brings me back, Miss Crimson," he grins, his pearly white teeth on full show, "What is life but taking risks?"

"Not a smart move, anyways," I let out a bitter laugh, "You're losing my interest, Mr. Deveraux," I added a note of warning, "Better be fast about your issues."

"Issues, yeah," he looks down at his lap before smiling. That is when I notice the blue folder he has been holding down on his lap since so long. "They didn't face any as long as it was going smoothly, Miss Crimson," his tone suddenly took a colder turn, "Then they came to know about Jirina Crimson."

I stand up abruptly, my eyes narrowing and adrenaline pumping inside my body at a speed I've never experienced before. He grins at me from his seat, crossing his legs now- an animalistic expression on his face. "How unsettling, isn't it, Achelois Circe Crimson, aged barely twenty three and some months, making quantum leaps in the business industry and staking her claim like it was her throne to possess all along," he chuckles and then clicks his tongue, "The daughter of the great Damen Crimson and the regal Epione Hawthorne, the granddaughter of Kylo Crimson, and of course, the legendary," a dark smile takes over his face, "Accio Hawthorne."

I freeze.

"Get out of my cabin, Pyrrhos Deveraux," I snap at him, "I'm quite aware of my family, you should take care of yourself," I snarl at him, fury embracing me oh-so-slowly, "Get the fuck out of here."

"Easy, easy, Miss Crimson," he laughs, "You are, but a new kid on the block. No stress," he taunts me, standing up. I walk over to his left; he is standing too, as well, the chair pushed back. He is excruciatingly close to me- I look straight towards the door, and he looks at the crook of my neck like a devil. We stand side by side, him facing my seat, me facing the wall- exactly opposite of each other, but side by side.

"Run, Achelois Circe Crimson," he whispers it like a warning and a promise of the destruction that awaits me, probably. "Cling to what life you have left, until you can no more."

He turns around, his blue folder in hand, the sharp corner of which inflicts a sharp cut on my wrist.

The move I knew he would make.

"Oh, crap," he muttered in a sorry tone, but on his face, shone the devilish smile. All of my suspicions were just proven true by him.

I watch him leave the room. His boots click on the floor. The knob shuts with a small click and once again, I'm alone in the room, the grandfather clock being the only reminder that everything hasn't frozen in time.

I dial the first name that comes to my mind.

I've barely hit the call button before the room starts spinning in front me. I feel lightheaded, and my muscles feel as if paralyzed. My muscles scream of sudden inactivity, from tension, and action. The only movement I allow myself is digging my fingers into the inside of my palm, harder and harder with each passing second.

I probably feel the phone stop ringing on being received.

It is a visceral thing, sending a hot and violent rage surging through my bloodstream like lava. "Fuck!" I slam my hand on the nearest flat surface. My palm makes a loud thwack ,the reverberation shuddering through the bones of my arm. Trying to get back to my consciousness, I brush my hand on the table and a few things crash onto the floor, making loud noises. Glass artifacts. I hear a frantic 'Hello' from the other side of the throne, but I feel choked, unable to speak anymore. The more I try, the more my gasps turn into coughing. I lose my balance- everything is blurry in front of my eyes.

Water.

Not again not again not again.

Before I know it, I feel the cool surface of the marble floors beneath my cheek. I plant my palm on the floor, hoping to be able to gain my balance and stand back up, but the pain cripples me. The coughing turns more frequent and bad now, and I see red liquid oozing out of my mouth, staining the spotless white floor.

The last thing I hear is someone yelling my name.

Everything goes black.

Victory. 

A/N:-

Dafaq!? What the hell happened to our badass Achelois? What weird things is she talking about? Who the hell are the Hawthorns? Who is Jirina Crimson- her sister?! BUT ON THE TOP OF EVERYTHING,

Does Pyrrhos have anything to do with all of this!?

A new string of cliffhangers and Achelois looks quite victorious about something that is associated to her fainting. Enter Deveraux, whose moves look shady. What happens next? Who is behind all of this? Stay tuned to find out the answers to these mysterious questions.

Okie, guys! A streak of updates?! Something special? Apparently, yeah. Or no. I don't really know. I just am aware of the fact that things have been really hectic, I have a bad migraine and a mug of coffee that isn't as warm as it should be, right now. I hate all the sugar and also, my life seems to be tumbling down under another wave of depression. But yes, I'm full of sunshine and flower farts! Cheeseeeee!

QOTD:- How are y'all?

(A very simple and assuring question this time round. Stay safe and strong :))

I've been watching a Chinese Drama for the first time, it's called 'Lucky's First Love' and it's super-funny. I'm not a huge fan of anything romantic, yet again, duh! The comedy is awe-inspiring.

That's basically it.

Always open for your feedback, advice, comments and votes, and on the top of it, I hope you'd not be harsh at all and sincerely wish that you'd give me a teenie-weenie shoutout on your message boards (after I've given you consecutive updates!), but only if I deserve it. Thenks.

Ta-ta!

~Disha😍👊😎