My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything - Chapter 287

Chapter 287: Broken King
It had been days since the battle, but for Ivo, it felt like centuries. Time moved sluggishly in his self-imposed isolation.

The Custodians had worked tirelessly, restoring the Old Museum, its tower and everything in it as if it had never been destroyed, all before the sun came up. The once grandiose throne room, now dark and empty, was the perfect reflection of his crumbling world.

Ivo slouched in the massive chair that had once symbolized power, but now felt like a mockery. His thoughts had become a prison, looping the final moments of the fight over and over again in his mind.

Armand was gone. Amara was gone. His lover, his best friend, both ripped from his life in a matter of moments. They had been the backbone of his world, and now without them, he was adrift.

Before him, strewn on the floor, sat countless empty bottles of blood wine, the crimson liquid that should have dulled the pain. But no matter how much he drank, it didn’t matter. Vampires didn’t get drunk. They didn’t feel that relief from pain. It was just another cruel reminder of what he had lost.

Ivo absentmindedly poured himself another glass of the deep red liquid, raising it to his lips without even tasting it. The bitter aftertaste was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest. Every sip felt like a futile attempt to drown the sorrow, but all it did was pass the time. A part of him didn’t care if he rotted away here, forgotten and broken. What was left to fight for?

He barely reacted as the elevator rose from the floor and opened with a loud ding. The footsteps that echoed through the room were sharp and deliberate, but Ivo didn’t bother to look up. He already knew who it was. Solomon.

The Count of Centrefield stepped forward, his eyes cold and calculating as ever, his expression a mask of controlled irritation. Solomon surveyed the scene before him. The broken vampire, the empty bottles, and the stench of despair. He let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Pathetic.” He muttered under his breath, loud enough for Ivo to hear.

Ivo’s lips twitched slightly in what might have been a smirk, but he didn’t reply. He only stared into the distance, his grip tightening around his glass.

“Ivo,” Solomon said sharply, stepping closer. “You’ve been wallowing in here for days. It’s time to get up. We still have unfinished business.”

Ivo didn’t respond, his eyes glazed over. Solomon’s patience wore thin. He grabbed the glass out of Ivo’s hand and smashed it against the floor.

“Snap out of it!” Solomon’s voice echoed through the empty throne room, his frustration boiling over. “We don’t have time for your self-pity.”

At that, Ivo’s gaze flicked up to meet Solomon’s. His red eyes, dull and haunted, met Solomon’s burning with impatience.

“I don’t care.” Ivo said flatly, his voice hoarse from days of silence. “I’ve lost everything. What’s left for me?”

Solomon narrowed his eyes, his mouth curving into a sneer. “You haven’t lost everything. You still have power, control, and the future of Southside in your hands. You can mourn later, but we need to find Ezra Matten.”

Ivo chuckled bitterly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ezra Matten… of course. The great prize. You’re so fixated on him, but do I look like a man that cares?”

“You don’t have the luxury of not caring.” Solomon snapped, his temper flaring. “You swore an oath. We both did. If you don’t uphold your end of the deal, the consequences will be severe.”

Ivo’s smile widened, but it was devoid of any warmth. “Then break the oath, Solomon. Do it. See if I care. Or are you scared?”

Solomon’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of hesitation passing through his eyes. “Don’t tempt me, Ivo. I will.”

“Then do it.” Ivo said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes dark and challenging. “Go on. Break the oath.”

There was a long, tense pause as Solomon considered his options. He was on the verge of saying something, but instead, he delved deep within himself, calling on the threads of the blood oath that bound them. The room seemed to darken for a moment, the air growing charged with vitality. It was as if the world was holding its breath, waiting, watching.

Solomon’s eyes glowed a deep crimson as he grabbed hold of the bonds encircling his soul. He gathered his vitality, ready to impose his will upon it, using Ivo’s failure to find Ezra.

With a simple twist, he’ll cut Ivo loose and make him pay for his failure. But as soon as his vitality descended, a backlash of pain surged through his body. Solomon winced, his fingers smoking lightly as the power of the oath lashed out at him.

His eyes widened in realization. The blood oath would not be so easily broken. Ivo had upheld half of his deal, which meant that breaking the oath would rebound onto him as well. The oath was fair. He couldn’t leave without paying for what he’d gotten out of it. If he pushed forward, he would suffer dangerous consequences, more than he had even predicted.

“You… you fool!” Solomon growled, his eyes narrowing in fury. “You’ve tied us both to this. If I break the oath now, it will hurt me as much as it hurts you.”

Ivo’s smile twisted into something darker, more mocking. “Then go ahead. Let’s both suffer. I don’t care anymore. It’s your choice, isn’t it?”

Solomon’s rage boiled over. His hands clenched into fists, but he knew there was nothing more he could do at this moment. Breaking the oath would cripple them both, and with Vladimir waiting in the wings, he couldn’t afford that.

He glared at Ivo with pure venom in his eyes. “You’re a coward, Ivo. You’re too weak to even face your own pain.”

Ivo didn’t flinch. “Maybe. But at least I’m not deluding myself into thinking there’s something left worth fighting for, am I?”

Solomon spun on his heel, his long coat billowing behind him as he stormed toward the door. “You’ll regret this, Ivo. When the consequences come crashing down on you, remember that you chose this.”

Ivo didn’t respond as Solomon left the room. The man yelled as he tore the door of the elevator open but Ivo barely noticed.

He picked up another bottle of blood wine, pouring himself another glass. His eyes drifted back to the shattered remains of the glass Solomon had thrown to the ground. He sighed deeply, taking a sip of his drink, feeling no relief.

It was a hollow victory. Solomon had left, and the oath remained intact, but it did nothing to ease the pain of his losses. Armand. Amara. His friends, his allies. He was alone now, surrounded by enemies and shadows.

Ivo leaned back in his chair, staring up at the dark ceiling of the throne room, wondering how much longer he could keep up this charade. How much longer before everything crumbled around him, and he was left with nothing but ashes?

Maybe Solomon was right. Maybe there was still something left to fight for. But at this moment, Ivo couldn’t see it. All he could see was the emptiness that stretched before him, and the weight of his own failure pressing down on him like a thousand-ton burden.

And so, he drank. And waited for the inevitable.