"So, the governor sent you here?" I blinked as his warm breath hit my eyes while I applied cream to his chin. I had insisted on doing it, thinking that if the governor found out I used these nails to hurt his brother, he might have my head chopped off.

"Hmm," I nodded slightly, closing the cream container and placing it on the side table. I perched myself on the edge of the table, focusing on him as he relaxed on the sofa.

"Where's your diary?" After staring at me for a while, he finally spoke. I widened my eyes and just stared at him, as if he had said something completely unexpected.

I glanced at the elegant ladders beside him that extended from his shoulder. I had returned to yet another grand mansion, which seemed like one of only two palaces in this kingdom-the one I just left and this one. It felt like I should just stay here. "What diary?" My voice carried a slight shyness, and he rolled his eyes at me like an exasperated boy, making me gasp.

"The governor must have told you to write something or prepare a report, right?" Oh, so that's what he's talking about. My mouth formed an 'O' shape before turning serious. "He's not my governor, and yes, he did ask me to prepare a report," I replied, my voice softening. "But I don't have a diary or a pen with me right now." Is he really about to ask me to write something? Maybe his story-the story of both brothers, told by me.

"Look behind you, there's paper and a pen. Take them." He lifted his head slightly and gestured towards some papers and a pen behind me.

I turned around and saw a stack with mixed colors of paper. I leaned over and pulled out a pink sheet. When I looked at him holding the paper in my hand, his attention was fixed on the paper. His face was scrunched up as if silently asking me whether the pen would even work on this paper or if what I wrote would be visible. I let out a breath, put the pink paper back on the side of the stack, and took a white sheet instead. Bending over, I placed the paper on the table and looked back at him.

He nodded at me and said, "Sit up straight. You don't need to write right now, just listen for now. Later, you can sit in your room and write at your own pace." He brought his face closer and added, "Do it properly."

I nodded at him and raised my right hand, gesturing toward the house as I asked, "Will I be staying here tonight?" He simply nodded in response and removing his right leg from over his left, placed both feet in front of me, trapping me in between.

I sucked in a breath as he rested both elbows on his knees, looking at me seriously before starting. Our faces were very close, and my knees were touching his thighs. My hands were already within his reach.

"What I'm about to tell you will stay just between you and me, alright?"

.....................................................................

author's pov;

The governor sat in his office, holding a picture in his hands. As he stared at it, he bit down on his inner lip. His body was extremely rigid, his face scrunched in pain. A storm of questions raged in his mind, and the fire of revenge burned within him. His right hand began to tremble slightly, then more violently.

The office wasn't so dark that he couldn't see the girl kneeling behind the bars in the cell. Her hair fell across her face, her head hung low. Her delicate, wounded fingers clutched the iron chains tightly, as if she was trying with all her might to break free, filled with hope that someone would come, remove those chains, and take her away from there safely.

He grew serious when he heard a knock at the door. He knew it was Grey, so he didn't fully hide the photo; he just placed a large book over the girl's face, leaving most of the image visible-the arms still gripping the bars behind them. The governor blinked, wishing that the girl would vanish from the photo, that the cell would be empty.

The tattered clothes she wore revealed her bruised chest, and her legs, which were slightly visible, were marked with long, thorn-like cuts, some of them thick with dried blood. Despite the dirt and the torn, worn-out dress she wore, she looked beautiful in his eyes, just because she was still alive. The governor remained silent.

"Hey, Governor. Do you have a few minutes to spare?" The governor nodded and looked at Grey with his bloodshot eyes. Grey stopped in his tracks when he saw him, realizing he was about to add more fuel to the fire. He then stepped forward and said, "I think we found a man-Donovan-at our club."

That was all it took for the governor to rise from his seat and swiftly head out the door. Grey followed closely behind, letting out a heavy sigh, wondering when this battle would finally end.

Guvnor's rage was boiling inside him so intensely that even Grey, who was walking beside him matching his pace, could sense what was going on in his mind. Seeing this, Grey was trying to say something to distract him, but Guvnor's ears, which had turned red and rigid with the pain of anger, shut themselves off, allowing his mind to fully take control. They headed straight to his private, very large basement. The structure of all his basements was the same. In every direction, within the four walls, four large, thick bricks were placed diagonally in a circular pattern, and right there, Donovan was tightly bound.

His hands were tightly bound, and his feet were chained. The first thing Guvnor said was, "Tsk tsk, Donovan, I didn't expect you to be this weak. I hadn't guessed that you'd fall into my men's hands so easily." Laughing, he walked up to him, placing his hands slightly above his waist and standing with his legs spread apart, like a hunter who had been waiting for years for a rabbit to come out of its burrow. A rabbit that had always escaped his clutches with a quick move every time it was in the basement, but this time, the king rabbit had finally been caught. After all, how long can any creature escape becoming a tiger's prey? Sooner or later, it gets caught. Especially when the tiger waits patiently, crouching low, for it to come on its own.

When anger became visible on Donovan's face, Guvnor switched off the safety of the gun he was holding behind him and loaded it. It was as if he were declaring to the running time that Donovan's last breaths would be taken here today.

And before he could say anything, Guvnor brought the gun from behind and placed it against Donovan's forehead, causing Donovan's eyes to widen as his hands fought against the ropes. Guvnor was so consumed by anger that he deliberately pressed the gun against Donovan's forehead, making it clear that if he managed to escape, even by a 0.5 percent chance, it would be his last mistake. His left hand rested near Donovan's right eye, close to an old brick. Guvnor's entire demeanor was like a coiled spring ready to unleash destruction. He was only looking for answers to some questions, so he kept his hand firmly on control, emptying all the bullets from the gun into the empty space near where Donovan's wife could be bound, making the basement echo with gasps and shock. The warm air from Donovan's fearful breaths clashed with the sweat on Guvnor's face, creating a chilling sensation that affected his clenched heart. Guvnor leaned in, staring into Donovan's eyes.

"Only three days," he gave him just three days to open his mouth and provide all the answers. He threw the gun forcefully to the side, glared at Donovan, and shouted an order, "Send Lime!" Hearing his deep and soulless voice, Grey flinched and signaled the other men to send Lime. Guvnor, although already certain and satisfied that he had finally captured Donovan after so many years, reassured himself by giving Donovan's cheek another hard slap. He then gave another order to call Oracle’s wife. His eyes shifted to his red hand, stained from the hard slap, and then to Donovan’s bruised face and lips, which seemed to reveal everything in that single moment. Guvnor was pleased, thinking that this was just to bring Donovan back to his senses, making it clear that he was now in Guvnor’s territory, which now belonged entirely to him.

In the land of dark.

In the land of Guvnor.