Vicious 18 (Patreon)

Author's note: Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well! I hope you all had a wonderful weekend and got some well deserved break and SLEEP! Here is a new chapter of Vicious. I hope you enjoy! i am trying my best to upload quicker! Let me know what you think! 

The week leading up to the wedding was a whirlwind of final arrangements. The manor, once a place Y/N dreaded, was slowly transforming into the grand venue for her and Harry’s marriage. Florists bustled in and out, caterers confirmed every detail, and Giana, ever diligent, moved from one end of the house to the other, coordinating everything with Charlie and Lex.

Despite the chaos, a strange heaviness hung over the preparations. Y/N sat by her window in the guest room, watching workers carry more arrangements into the garden, their bright colors a stark contrast to the gloomy air that seemed to fill the manor. Her thoughts drifted to Harry’s confession about sleeping with other women, a wound that hadn’t quite healed.

She hadn’t seen much of Harry over the past few days. He had been consumed with finalizing security arrangements and meeting with his men to ensure everything would run smoothly. He said it was necessary, given the threats looming from Augusto’s side, but Y/N couldn’t help feeling he was avoiding her. His confession about being scared of caring too much still lingered in her mind, yet there was something deeper gnawing at her. Something darker.

The feeling of unease persisted. In her brief moments with Harry, she sensed a tension in him that wasn’t just about their relationship—it was about something more dangerous, lurking just beyond their control.

That afternoon, while reviewing seating charts, Y/N’s phone buzzed. She reached for it, expecting another update from Giana or perhaps a message from Harry. Instead, it was from an unknown number. Frowning, she opened the message.

You think you’re safe with him? How foolish.

Her heart raced as she stared at the words. Who would send something like that? Was it a cruel prank, or was there some truth to it? Y/N’s stomach churned. She had already accepted Harry’s confession, but this? It felt like someone was watching her, trying to tear them apart.

Before she could process the message, another one followed.

Ask him about last week. About the girl. He won’t deny it.

She dropped the phone onto the table, her mind spinning. Was Harry still seeing someone else? Or was this just another attempt from Federico or Augusto to shake her trust in him? Y/N buried her face in her hands. Every time she tried to convince herself that things were on track, something new pulled her back into doubt.

A knock at the door startled her.

"Come in," she called, hurriedly shoving her phone away as Giana entered, holding a clipboard.

"You alright?" Giana asked, raising an eyebrow as she scanned Y/N’s face.

Y/N forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just... overthinking as usual. Is everything set for the ceremony?”

Giana glanced at her clipboard. “Almost. I’ve been running through the final checks with Charlie and Lex. Security’s tight, especially with Augusto lurking in the shadows. They don’t want to take any chances.”

Y/N nodded absently, her thoughts still on the messages.

Giana tilted her head, scrutinizing her friend. “What’s really going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Y/N hesitated. She hadn’t told Giana about the messages, about the nagging doubts that were pulling her apart from Harry. But keeping it in was suffocating her. She sighed, rubbing her temples before finally speaking. “I’ve been getting these... messages. From an unknown number. They keep telling me that Harry is not to be trusted”.

Giana’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t seem surprised. “And do you believe them?”

Y/N shook her head, conflicted. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks it’s just another way for Augusto or Federico to mess with my head. But another part... it keeps gnawing at me. I mean, Harry told me he slept with other women before, but now... I don’t know.”

Giana sat down beside her. “Y/N, you need to talk to him. If there’s something going on, you need to hear it from him, not some anonymous number. You’re about to marry the guy, for heaven’s sake.”

“But do you want exclusivity?” Giana asked, her voice soft but probing.

Y/N stared at her friend, unsure how to answer. Did she want it? The truth was, deep down, she had started falling for Harry, despite all the complications and despite everything they had been through. But she was scared—scared that she was just building fantasies in her head, scared that Harry didn’t feel the same way.

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted. “I’m terrified that I’m just making it all up in my head. I’m scared that he’ll never care about me the way I’m starting to care about him.”

Giana took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Then you need to find out. Don’t let anyone else tell you what’s going on. Go to him. You owe yourself that.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a little stronger from Giana’s words. She knew Giana was right. But before she could find the courage to confront Harry, she had to get through the wedding and everything that came with it.

As the day went on, Y/N found herself distracted with last-minute tasks, but the messages remained in the back of her mind, gnawing at her. The unsettling presence of the unknown sender lingered, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, waiting for her to falter.

Harry stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, adjusting the lapel of his finely tailored suit. It was black, made of the finest material money could buy. Every detail had been meticulously altered for him, down to the sharp edges of the cuff and the perfect line of the trousers. He had always appreciated precision, and his suit for the wedding was no exception.

He tugged at the jacket slightly, inspecting how it sat on his shoulders, turning to glance at himself from different angles. The wedding was now just days away, and though the pressures of the day loomed heavily over him, he had to admit—the suit made him feel like everything was under control, at least for now.

The soft click of the door opening behind him was the only warning before Silas strode into the room, a familiar smirk already tugging at the corner of his mouth. Harry caught his reflection in the mirror—Silas, ever the snake, looking like he had something to say.

"Well, don’t you look dashing," Silas teased, his voice laced with amusement. He strolled in as if he owned the place, taking in the sight of Harry adjusting the suit. “I see you’re really going through with this whole charade, then. Quite the sight, seeing you playing dress-up like some groom out of a fairytale.”

Harry’s jaw tightened. He didn’t bother turning around, continuing to fiddle with his cufflinks as Silas circled him like a predator eyeing its prey.

"Got nothing to say?" Silas drawled, leaning against the wall with an air of nonchalance. "I figured you’d at least try to defend yourself by now. Or is it that you know I’m right? That this wedding is a mistake? A bloody farce.”

Harry finally turned, his eyes narrowing at Silas. "You don’t know a thing about it," he said coolly, his voice low and controlled. "And it’s not your place to try to sabotage this. Not anymore."

Silas chuckled darkly. “Oh, come on. We both know you're no saint. Does Y/N know about the others? Or are you banking on her never finding out what you get up to when you're not playing the dutiful fiancé?”

Harry’s fists clenched momentarily, but he held his ground. “What I’ve done in the past isn’t your concern, and it won’t be hers either. Why are you still hanging on to this idea that I should walk away?”

Silas pushed himself off the wall, taking a few slow steps toward Harry, his smirk widening as he saw the flash of anger cross Harry's face. “Because I know you. I know what you're like when you feel cornered. You’ll sabotage this just like you’ve sabotaged everything else in your life”

Harry turned away, staring into the mirror again, but this time the reflection that stared back at him felt different—strained, tired. He could feel Silas’s words worming their way under his skin.

“You think Y/N is different, but she's not. Sooner or later, you'll push her away too”.

Harry’s fingers tightened around the edge of the dresser. He took a breath, keeping his voice steady. “She’s not, Silas. And that’s why I’m marrying her.”

“Oh, is that what you tell yourself at night?" Silas' voice dripped with mockery. “That this one is different? That she’ll somehow fix all your flaws? Give me a break. You’ve got skeletons in your closet that would make anyone with sense run for the hills, and you’re hoping Y/N never looks too closely.”

Harry turned sharply, his patience wearing thin. “Stop”.

Silas laughed bitterly, running a hand through his slick hair. “You’re in love with the idea of Y/N, not the reality. You’re just scared of being alone, of facing your demons on your own. You think she will save you.”

“You don’t know a thing about what I feel for her,” Harry snapped, his voice hardening as he took a step toward Silas.

Silas raised an eyebrow, that same infuriating smirk plastered across his face. “Is it? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve done nothing but run from the truth. And what truth is that?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. “That you don’t deserve her. You never did.”

There was a brief, taut silence. Harry could feel his pulse quickening, the old anger rising within him, but he forced himself to calm down. Losing his temper wouldn’t fix anything. It never had.

“Do yourself a favour, Silas,” Harry said in a low voice, his back still to the man who had tried to tear him down for years. “Leave”.

Silas chuckled one last time, heading toward the door. “You’ll never deserve her” he said, pausing at the threshold. “It will all crash and burn”.

With that, he was gone, leaving Harry alone in the room. The suit felt heavier now, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. Whatever demons Silas thought he was running from, Harry knew that the only thing that mattered now was Y/N. And he wouldn’t let anything—not his past, not Silas, not Augusto—stand in the way of protecting her.

He exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click, and walked down the corridor. The manor was alive with preparations for the wedding, a buzz of energy filling every room. Servants moved quickly with floral arrangements, caterers brought in supplies, and decorators fussed over details Y/N had been careful to plan.

Just a week until the wedding. A week until everything changed.

Turning a corner, Harry made his way outside to the garden. He needed fresh air, space to think. The sun was low in the sky, casting golden light over the expansive grounds. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, and the gentle breeze offered some relief from the weight on his shoulders.

As he stepped into the garden, he noticed Y/N seated on a stone bench beneath a large oak tree, going over some final details for the wedding. A notebook and pen were in her hand, and she was deep in thought, her brow furrowed as she focused.

Harry’s heart swelled at the sight of her. She had always been strong, calm under pressure, even when things felt like they were falling apart. She didn’t need the grandeur of a wedding to prove her worth or loyalty. She just expected respect—and he had nearly shattered that.

He approached quietly, not wanting to disturb her thoughts, but as he drew nearer, Y/N looked up and smiled, her eyes softening when they met his.

“There you are,” she said warmly, setting her notebook aside. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”