Unveiled Secret

CHAPTER 9

The antiseptic scent of the hospital corridor faded as Vivienne stepped out into the Parisian afternoon. Her mind lingered on her patients, their faces etched in her memory. A gust of wind tousled her hair, carrying with it the aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby patisserie.

She inhaled deeply, savouring the moment of peace before her next shift. As she turned the corner, a familiar voice froze her in her tracks.

"Well, well. If it isn't the angel of mercy herself."

Vivienne's breath caught in her throat. She pivoted slowly, coming face to face with a ghost from her past. Phillipe Beaumont stood before her, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

"Philippe," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

His eyes raked over her, taking in the crisp white uniform. "My, how you've changed, Isabelle. Or should I say, Vivienne?"

She straightened her spine, chin lifted. "What are you doing here, Phillipe?"

"Can't an old friend pay a visit?" He circled her, predatory. "I own a bar now. Le Masque Noir. Perhaps you'd like to stop by sometime, for old times' sake?"

Vivienne's eyes darted around, searching for an escape. "I don't think that would be appropriate."

Phillipe leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. "Come now, surely you haven't forgotten our little... adventures?"

She recoiled, her back hitting the cool stone wall. "That's in the past. I've moved on."

"Have you now?" His tone dripped with sarcasm. "Does your new family know about your colourful history? The blood on your hands?"

Vivienne's eyes flashed. "Leave them out of this."

"Oh, but they're very much a part of this now, aren't they?" Phillipe's fingers traced the outline of her jaw. "It would be a shame if they were to discover the truth about their precious Vivienne."

She slapped his hand away. "What do you want, Phillipe?"

He chuckled, the sound grating on her nerves. "Always so direct. I've missed that about you."

"Speak plainly or leave me be."

Phillipe's demeanour shifted, his playful façade crumbling. "Fine. I need your help. There's a matter that requires your... unique skills."

Vivienne's blood ran cold. "I don't do that anymore."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "Not even to protect your newfound happiness?"

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "Is that a threat?"

"Consider it a friendly warning." Phillipe straightened his coat. "Visit me at Le Masque Noir tomorrow night. We have much to discuss."

As he turned to leave, Vivienne found her voice. "And if I refuse?"

Phillipe paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Then I hope your family is as forgiving as you believe them to be."

He melted into the crowd, leaving Vivienne trembling against the wall. The bustling street faded away, replaced by the thundering of her own heartbeat. Her past, which she had so carefully buried, now threatened to unravel everything she held dear.

She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. The weight of her choices pressed down upon her, suffocating in its intensity. As she pushed off the wall, her legs unsteady, Vivienne knew that her carefully constructed world was about to shatter.

Heaving a sigh, she stepped back into the hospital, the bright lights flickering over her as she moved through the corridor like a phantom. The familiar buzz of activity enveloped her—nurses bustling, doctors discussing cases, patients murmuring softly. But the chaos couldn't drown out the echo of Phillipe's threat, his laughter still reverberating in her mind.