Serendipity

Chapter 1

Elodie

My name is Elodie Chevalier. I'm an eighteen-year-old, sheltered only child and am looking for my father. I'm innocent and open-hearted and really fucking clueless.

I roll my eyes to myself as I go over it. Then, stepping into a puddle of water as I cross another street, I groan loudly. Right, because that's what I needed. Wet socks on top of everything else.

I take a deep breath to calm myself, trying to set myself back into my role. I'm sweet and clueless, that's the persona I've created for myself in the last two months. 63 days, to be exact, that's the amount of time I've known my father is dead. Killed by the man whose building I'm currently rushing towards.

Taking deep breaths as the cool Chicago air stings my eyes and blurs my view, I let myself become a flustered-looking little thing. If I want my plan to work, I need to give this performance my all. That means tears, shaky voice, and innocent doe eyes.

I round another corner and the building I'm looking for finally comes into view. The skyscraper which houses Marino's headquarters, disguised as a usual architecture firm. Despite myself, my heart starts racing and some doubts start to creep in. Am I sure I can do this?

But I shake myself before I can overthink it. Of course, I can do it. Hell, I have to do it. This man murdered my father, for fuck's sake. I won't let that go unpunished. No, I have a mission and I'll damn well go through with it.

With one last fluttering breath, I push through the glass doors, out of the cold, and head straight for the front desk. Two men sit behind it, laughing loudly and sounding not unlike a few snorting pigs but when they notice me coming towards them, one hits the other and they straighten in their seats.

"How can we help you?" they ask, eyeing me suspiciously. I guess they're not used to people interrupting their... well, let's call it job. I guess they're just placeholders though since this isn't a building anyone that doesn't work with them enters. Or maybe they're security, making sure their boss stays undisturbed when he's busy ordering an execution, drug deal, or whatever else the don of the Italian mafia here in the US does.

"Hi, I'm sorry for the disturbance but I'm looking for my father," I say, speaking softly as I pretend to be catching my breath. I fidget with my hands, not meeting each of the men's eyes for longer than two seconds to really seal the deal.

Meanwhile, internally, I'm rolling my eyes as I notice them sharing a mischievous look. God, if I could, I'd smash in both of their faces already, maybe break their noses so their eyes would swell shut. Ah, what a lovely thought.

Maybe later.

Anyways, I go on. "He's been missing for two months now and the police said they can't help me. They said that people sometimes run away but I know that's not what my father did. He'd never abandon me. He used to work here so I thought maybe a colleague could help me? Could I maybe ask around?" I ask, my voice sweet enough to make me sick. God, I hate acting like a damsel in distress.

The men share another look before the bald one asks, "Who's your father." I can tell from the amusement in his voice he thinks the same that the police did. That I'm a silly little girl looking for her daddy who went to buy some milk.

Let them think that. I know the truth. I know my father got too close, that he was caught and executed for being a mole.

Catching myself getting lost in my thoughts, I force any memory of my father away and make sure I keep my act together.

"Andre Chevalier," I say, the small tremble of my chin not as fake as I wish it were. Fuck, I miss my dad.

At the mention of his name, the two strangers straighten in their seats. The bold man smiles a fake-ass smile and motions to the seating area in the corner of the lobby. "We'll call upstairs and see what we can do for you, okay? Why don't you go wait over there," he says while his friend with the tooth gap picks up the phone and calls someone.

As soon as my back is turned to them, I can't help but smirk to myself. Phase one worked rather flawlessly and it soothes my nerves a tad. If this worked, so will the rest.

Here's the deal. My father had spent years climbing the ranks until he became one of Marino's closest confidants. All the while he worked as a spy for the family's rival, the French mafia. And while I'm here pretending the very opposite, I know exactly what had gone down.

After all, I was my father's assistant. He and I had a very close bond growing up since it used to be just us. I told him about my friendship- and later relationship- dramas. In return, he kept me posted on his work. I'm the only one he told about his findings every night he came home and it's me who now knows where all the information is hidden. Not my father's new wife of their kids. Me.

That's why I'm the one here now. My stepmother and siblings are grieving. The kids are too little to understand and Lena, his widow, is too soft to do anything about it. But I grew up with this, learning to fight, shoot, and being told about murders from a young age.

I know the police won't get involved. If I want justice, I have to take matters into my hands.

Okay, revenge, not justice but who cares.

A hand on my shoulder takes me back to the present, making me flinch and wiping my face clean of its scowl as I look up at baldie. "Follow me. We'll see how we can help you," he says as he pulls me to my feet and leads me to the elevator without waiting for a reply.

I follow wordlessly, tapping my foot and fidgeting as we descend two floors beneath the ground. My nerves are acting up again, even though this is part of the plan. I know where they're taking me, having studied the building's blueprints for weeks. The cells.

And I knew they would. Counted on it. But suddenly, I feel smaller than I used to, less confident in my plan and my skills to pull it off. Oh damn, what was I thinking? Closure and revenge. I want to talk to the man that took the most important person in my life from me and see what the fuss is all about. Then I want to kill him.

Ever since my father first disappeared, I've felt this all-consuming rage. I'm not here to finish my dad's job and get the remaining information the French need to ruin this family. I'm here to satisfy my need for blood.

At least, that's what I thought I wanted. But who am I kidding? I've never killed anyone. Fought and seriously injured? Sure. Killed, nope. And even if I went through with it, how would I get away. Mr. Marino isn't a nobody. He has security and trained assassins on his side while I have no one.

But I've revealed my identity. It's too late to back out now.

Right then, the elevator dings and the doors slide open. The man standing behind me tightens his hold on me as he moves me towards the cell and before I can protest, I'm thrown into an empty cell and the door slams shut behind me. I whimper, still pretending.

"He'll be down any second," is all he tells me before he walks off, a nasty smile playing on his lips and making it hard for me to keep my cool. Still, I force myself to yell out, "Where are you going? Please come back! Why am I down here? What's happening?" in a desperate, whiny voice while fake tears start streaming down my face.

But he doesn't turn around, only waves once as he returns to the elevator and disappears as it heads up.

So far, things are going as planned. This is going to work, I assure myself.

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Here we goo, guyss:)

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I'm rly excited for this story, hope y'all are too and wish u guys the best of days<3