How long is a lifetime?
To Luc, it is eternal. Endless and excruciatingly meaningless. His existence on Earth serves as a punishment for the sins he has committed. Immortality is his shackle.
It would forever be that way if Luc didn't stumble upon...
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Ten girls came out when the wagon opened. Ten small, scrawny, dirty-looking things, but some were easy on the eyes. Luc knew Bessie would dig out whatever potential these girls possessed and turn them into perfect little toys.
Then there was Tim.
The old creep was busy pulling one last girl out by her hair toward his personal quarter. He was some sort of an errand boy, staying in the brothel and doing whatever dirty work Bessie threw at him.
The young girl was kicking and screaming with all her might, twisting her body like a small fish out of water.
A little fighter.
The corners of Luc's lips curved up and he leaned further forward. The girl then turned around at an impossible angle and bit Tim on his forearm. Luc almost jumped up and clapped when he saw blood drawn from the man's chalky skin.
Tim yanked the girl up and slapped her hard across the face. Blood splashed out from her mouth and nose. Her tiny face was covered in the amazing red color that never failed to excite Luc. He laughed, this time loud enough that everyone in the courtyard stopped whatever they were doing and looked up.
"Well, well, well, old Tim...What do you have here?"
"Hello, master Luc..."
Tim's crooked face scrunched up even more when he heard the voice. He didn't like Luc one bit, but he didn't dare to say or do anything stupid in front of the man. His survival instinct was strong and it told him to steer clear of Luc.
Everyone knew Master Luc. He came and went as he liked. He dressed fancy or shabby depending on his mood, but money was never a problem. Bessie yielded to him a lot. That woman loved money more than her own mother, but Tim knew she was also bewitched by Luc's pretty face. She didn't make it very subtle.
"As you can see, sir, this wench got on my last nerves," Tim bit inside of his cheek, putting on the dutiful-servant act. "She refused to stand in the line when I have clearly instructed her so. Why would she need to be so stubborn? I'm just teaching her some manners, sir."
"Damn, I wouldn't want to be your pupil!" Luc laughed, knowing he was annoying the scrawny man below to no end and he didn't plan to stop. "Hold that thought! I'm coming down."
"There's no need, sir!" Tim yelled as if someone had just stepped on his tail. "I would not want your fine shoes to get dirty! It is very wet and muddy down here!"
Luc straightened his back. He looked tall and menacing even on the balcony, far away from Tim. His icy blue eyes bored down, straight into the darkest, deepest corner of Tim's soul. The air was dead still, with only the pitter-patter on the rooftop.
"I didn't ask for your opinion, Tim, and my shoes, they're already dirty... So don't go anywhere!"
Luc changed his tone abruptly and swept the wet hair out of his eyes. His perfect face in the bad lighting reminded Tim of an angel of Death.
All he knew about Master Luc was from rumors, but some reliable sources had confirmed many interesting stories. Luc was the owner behind a lot of businesses up and down Belmont street, the busiest street in the most upscale part of the city, where the nobles, politicians, and other business owners mingled. However, Luc didn't limit himself to that world.
His hands reached deep into the other side. The weapon and opium trade had made Luc obscenely wealthy. The demand for those things kept going up and the competition kept getting steeper, but Luc had never lost a battle. Not that Tim knew of. Master Luc's business seemed ever a smooth sail and most people who got in his way were either dead or missing, presumably dead.
Luc turned his back and walked into the room without worrying about the people in the courtyard. They would stay exactly where he wanted them to stay. Tim, especially, if he wanted to live.
Amelia seemed sound asleep, but her eyes opened as soon as she heard Luc's footsteps.
"What's going on? Are you leaving?" Her voice was soft.
Amelia had enough experience with men to know when she should or should not press an issue. Reading people was her specialty. She didn't follow Luc when he stepped out to the balcony because every man needed his alone time and being a pest would not help her cause.
Maybe, Amelia didn't want to deal with Luc's cold heart in this cold weather.
Luc sat down on a chair next to the bed and reached out to touch Amelia's face. His hand felt like a block of ice. Amelia jumped and pulled back into the blanket, but seeing the frown on Luc's face, she sat up and forced herself to put on a gentle smile.
"Why are you leaving so soon, my love? It's raining outside...You should stay until it passes."
"Oh, sweet Amelia, you know I can't. The rain will probably last all night."
Then stay the night with me. The loneliness in her heart almost made Amelia say that out loud, but she stopped herself. She knew Luc well enough. It would just be a vain request.
Luc smiled and stroked her hair as if she was his little pet. The handsome face and gentle gestures couldn't fool Amelia, however.
One minute he was sweet and caring, and the next, he acted as if there was nothing in this world that was worth his time. She doubted he even felt anything when they were together, but she couldn't pull away. Luc had what she wanted in a man. He was just not willing to give her that. At least, not at the moment.
Luc's tall and muscular body took over the whole space in front of Amelia when he stood up, making her room seem smaller. Amelia also felt small. Small and insignificant.
I wish you could stay.
If only he could hear her thoughts and see how much she needed him now, but without sparing Amelia another look, Luc dropped the money on her table, put his coat on over his dampened shirt, and out the door, he went. All Amelia could do was watch him leave when she so wanted to cry, scream, and hang her whole body on him like a madwoman and beg him to stay.
