The next day, Rowan's entire family except for him gathered in the living room. His father, as usual, was immersed in the newspaper, frowning as he read the headlines about rising water prices and looming international tensions. He sipped his lukewarm tea and muttered to his wife, Rowan's stepmother, about how unstable the world was becoming.
"It's not just the prices," he grumbled. "It's the silence between governments. That's scarier."
She nodded absently, scrolling through her phone. On the couch nearby, Rowan's stepbrother was too absorbed in his own screen, laughing at some meme or video.
Rowan quietly descended from his room, his footsteps unheard. He passed through the room like a ghost, headed to the kitchen, grabbed a leftover sandwich, and turned back upstairs without a word.
No one looked at him.
No one called his name.
No one cared.
It was as if he didn't exist—and that suited him perfectly.
---
Back in his room, Rowan locked the door behind him and sat before his ancient computer, its screen flickering like a dying flame, but it still worked. That was all he needed.
He inserted the pen drive again. As he was about to start his plan against Nanita.
He spent the next few hours preparing.
He drafted emails. Scheduled them for auto-send. One to Nanita's prestigious internship office. One to her university scholarship committee. One to her family and community telegram channel.
He uploaded select clips—not explicit, but damning. Video of Nanita whispering sweet lies to multiple men. Footage of her mocking Rowan in private messages. Audio clips that painted her as cruel, self-serving, and deceitful.
He created anonymous cloud folders and encrypted everything.
"This may concern you. You should know who you're supporting."
.
He didn't send all of them directly. He scheduled them for staggered release, one by one over several days, through proxy servers.
Each message was a seed.
A seed of doubt. Of scandal. Of collapse.
And Rowan? He would just sit back and watch it all fall.
---
By evening, the second ripple hit.
Her community Telegram group started buzzing—screenshots were flying around. Some claimed it wasn't Nanita. Others weren't so sure. Her clothing, voice, mannerisms—recognizable to those who knew her.
Speculation ignited like wildfire.
Nanita was still unaware.
She was busy... being summoned by her university's internal disciplinary board.
She recived an email somewhat arround noon requesting an immediate appearance due to "concerns raised over professional integrity and student conduct." She had panicked. Her brain couldn't comprehend what was happening.
"Anonymous complaint? Video content? What are they talking about?"
She denied everything, of course. Blamed deepfakes. Pleaded innocence.
But the seed was planted.
And in an academic environment where prestige mattered more than truth, the whispers began.
One scholarship committee member was overheard saying, "We'll need to review her moral eligibility clause."
Her internship supervisor, who once praised her, suddenly avoided eye contact.
And Rowan… sat in his room with the lights off, watching the first cracks form in her perfect little world.
---
But that was just the beginning.
He wasn't done.
His plan was layered.
------------------------------------
As the days progressed, Nanita's life spiraled. Within fewdays her life went from dreamland to hell.Her family began questioning her behavior. Her close friends stopped replying. One even sent her a voice note:
"Hey, I don't know what's true or fake right now… but if even half of it is real… I just can't be around that kind of person, people will think I am also like you , don't contact me few days."
In just one weeks time of time She completely broke down.She Screamed into her pillow. Slammed her phone against the wall.
And Rowan?
He slept better than he had in years.
---------------------------
Nanita pov:-
I had always been careful with my image. Smart, graceful, beloved by professors and envied by her peers. My scholarship wasn't just an award — it was a symbol. My internship at the top firm in the city was a gateway to everything I have ever dreamed of.
Life was smoothly going.Until one morning… everything shattered.
It began subtly. A murmur in the corridor. A whisper in the group chat. Professors who wouldn't look me in the eye. Friends who suddenly had "other plans."
I was called into the university's disciplinary office. The tone was polite, but the words carried venom.
"There have been... materials circulating. Some claim they involve you. We are not accusing you — but we must investigate."
My heart stopped.
Of course I denied everything. Desperately. Frantically. But the damage had already been done.
The videos weren't explicitly clear — blurred faces, dim lighting — but the body language, the voice, the mannerisms… some who knew me closed would recognized it was me.
My scholarship was suspended pending investigation.
My internship sent a formal notice: "We regret to inform you..."
Then my family began receiving messages. My name — their name — being dragged through filth in community chats. Anonymous tips. Accusations. Edited screenshots.
My father, who once was proud of me ,exploded in rage.
"What the hell have you done to this family?! Have you no shame?!"
My mother cried in silence, unable to look me in the eye.
Friends stopped replying. Group chats muted her. Doors I spent years unlocking slammed shut in a single week.
I am literally blacklisted — unofficially — but thoroughly.
Inside Nanita's Bedroom
She screamed — a raw, primal sound that echoed through the crumbling silence of her room.
"Who the hell did this to me?!"
Her eyes were bloodshot, wild with fury and humiliation. Rage twisted her face as tears streamed down, burning like acid. She clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms, drawing blood — but she didn't care.
"If I ever find out who did this…" she growled through clenched teeth, her voice trembling with murderous intent, "I'll kill him. Not once. Not twice."
She stared into the cracked mirror on the wall, the reflection of a ruined woman staring back at her — no longer the pride of her university, no longer the angel of her family.
"I'll tear him apart a thousand times over until his soul screams for mercy… and even then, I'll keep going." Her voice dropped into a whisper, more terrifying than her scream.
"No forgiveness. No escape. He'll beg me for death… and I'll make sure he never gets it."
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But What she didn't know was who Roman truly was or had become. But the storm she promised was nothing compared to the hurricane already headed her way.
But Roman? Letting her go? Not in this lifetime.
Her downfall has only begun— what she lost so far was just the surface. The real torment would come slowly, until even breathing felt like punishment for her.😈😈😈😈😈😈😈
======≠====================
Author's Note:
Roman has chosen the dark path. The world will burn again... but under **his** rule this time.
If you're enjoying the chaos, don't forget to:
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Your support helps the story rise — and ensures Roman doesn't come after *me* for stopping. 😂
See you in the next chapter!
—Author