the reveal – no, the confirmation – that vidal had another mistress had triggered something within harley, but it hadn’t been what she would’ve expected. it wasn’t deep sorrow, it wasn’t horrible anger, it was a strange sense of understanding – of understanding the darker parts of vertmoor that had previously been nothing but questions to her. she always knew why angel was extorting her and vidal ( and, eventually, just her ), but she had been too concerned with protecting both her reputation and vidal’s that she hadn’t the time to actually understand any of it. she had liked to consider herself above it, had liked to think that, if she had something this big on someone, she wouldn’t use it against them. for the most part, that was true. she was very good with secrets and didn’t understand the purpose of sharing them… until then. he needed money. they lived in a society that relied on money. deeply associated with vidal in his eyes, as well as close friends with one of the children of the affluent family, she was a good source.
eyes flicking to the security camera then back to angel, she nodded her head. “ yeah – yeah, i know. ” he’d had a much better source when vidal was alive, hadn’t he ? she could only rely on so much until she had to turn to belva with fake excuses, but vidal had lived a life surrounded by money. his was the story of midas – everything he touched turned to gold… which was only good for so long. pausing to consider the question, she ultimately decided she didn’t have much to lose and asked, “ did you, like, know about azra ? ”
the reveal of vidal having a second mistress was about as surprising as it just.. wasn’t. angel had always regarded vidal as a man with a heart of hunger, a heart that held nothing and would devour the hearts of others to sustain itself. he had known monsters his whole life and had he not needed him, to leech from, to live off his muddied funds, he would’ve distanced himself from vidal long before his death, or have even brought death upon him with his own hand, granted a favour to the dolls, to all whose life had been delivered his poison touch, drained his life for catharsis. he had once run from a monster he should’ve slain, and perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to bear running again, leaving victims in his wake. the unfortunate thing, was he had not been dealt cards that allowed him such privilege. the monster might have been wrapped around his finger, but now he was a leech without blood, starving.
his expression became more serious, almost a moment where he reminded himself that he’d never meant malice upon her, she was a victim just as much as he was. there was a sickness stirring in his stomach, thinking perhaps the monstrous blood of which he was created ran thicker than he had ever realized. he ran from his past life, but he could never truly run from his genetics. he wished he could do better by the girl in front of him. ❛ i didn’t know, ❜ he tells her, in truth, ❛ but i’m not surprised, you shouldn’t be either. he was never worth your suffering. ❜ he’s more candid with her than he is with anyone else, no need for the charm and the kindness he puts on for others, ❛ vidal didn’t have a heart, but he held yours all the same. ❜
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