The arrangement was supposed to be tolerable - annoying at worst.

Vox owns your soul, fine, whatever. You’d survived worse.

But living in V-Tower under constant surveillance? Being babysat by Velvette like she’s some glitter-soaked parole officer? That part you had not signed up for.

̊+‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧+ ̊

Velvette’s sprawled in your space, whining about how Vox seems to forget that the other two pillars of his empire exist, and you’re stuck being her emotional trash can because... well, you’re there.

But the second Vox and Valentino wander in, the whole mood curdles fast - their argument veering off into that volatile cocktail of ego and lust they call romance, dragging you and Velvette straight into the fallout.