Opus Dei

Four

I am aware that my mouth keeps opening and closing without actually making any sound but with this constant ringing in my ears I can't concentrate enough to make it stop.

I don't know what thought should I think first. In my head there is this enormous vortex of information which makes it hard to concentrate on anything. I close my eyes and place my hand on the desk behind me, trying to steady myself, hoping that my thoughts would follow.

The freemasonry is a secret society which exists since the 17th century. It has a hereditary character and operates under grave circumstances. No one who doesn't have a family recommendation to enter is not allowed to even get near the smallest members. They have this famous lodge, from the smallest member to the most important people whose names aren't known to the ordinary people. These "shadows" are said to be the rulers of the world, the ones who actually control everything we do, on a macro scale, as puppets. They are said to be divided into smaller organizations, ruled by the same people but made in order to be able to control more with people suspecting less. Two of these are the Illuminati and the Opus Dei. The Illuminati...everybody knows at least a thing or two about those. The Opus Dei are the actual machinery of the whole freemasonry. They have been financing all sides on every war forever, they own every piece of gold on the planet, every bank, every building, every...person pretty much. These people are the only trillionaires the world has. These are the big daddys, the ones that keep punishing the world and us without us even knowing it.

I open my eyes slowly and take a peak at the framed sign again. Of course, he could have printed it online, framed it and placed it there. But somehow I know that is not the story of it. It is easily visible that he has an obscene amount of money, he obviously owns the building we are in. Power, he has plenty of it and that can be seen only by looking at him. Danger...you can sense the danger when he is around, you can see the dark energy that fills the room whenever he steps in, everything energetically bows down in front of him. And this look, this look he is giving me right now as he glances between my probably pale face and the frame tells me I should run the hell out of here and pray to God that he won't find me again. His eyes tell the story of a confused man, the way they keep following from my tight grip on the table, my eyes and the frame. His brows form a flawless frown, one that Jane Austen could depict in at least one page.

"I need to go. I don't know why you brought me here..." I don't recognize my voice as I speak. He takes a step closer eyeing me carefully. "Don't, please. Don't." He stops mid track and puts his hands in the pocket of his pants looking at me expectantly.

He hasn't said a word about the frame, hasn't made a bitter comment like I expected him to. Somehow I know that the panic is visible in on my face, my composure, my attitude. Looking at him right now I kind of understand more about this man. His dark hair is perfectly combed back, his plump full lips straight, his brows no longer frown at me and he looks almost calm, eyes fixated on me, waiting for me to say something... he knows I know and he is waiting for my reaction. I don't know how to react, all my life I've been obsessed with conspiracy theories and weird stuff but I never actually realized that they might be true. Then this gorgeous asshole is thrown into my life and I find myself questioning everything I know. I don't want to leave because I know for sure that I will never again find a man with his intensity, a man who's only presence could make me tingle all over. But I know for sure that I am not a stupid person, that someone this deep is equally dangerous. And I am not ready for that, I've known him for like five seconds and I already feel consumed by the effect he has on me.

"When you said you'd take me to hell, I didn't think you meant that...literally." I raise my chin and straighten my back, letting go of the table behind me.

This time, I am the one closing the gap between us, as I step closer to him. With each step I take it is getting harder and harder to breathe and keep my thoughts focused. There's just one more thing I need to know, "Why am I actually here, Vincent?"