Her Revenge

Chapter 6: Woman

~[CHAPTER 6]~

Michael pov:

*1 year ago*

I wake up in the morning, in my father’s house, as the waves crashing onto the shores, echo through the shallow silence.

I get up from my bed, with a subtle groan. The huge mirror reflection of the room facing me… as my gaze falls to my disheveled appearance. I look at my reflection. I stare at my flexing muscles, due to the fact that I sleep shirtless.

I like the way I look, better than what I was years ago. It’s heartwarming, in a way. I smile for the first time in the day, as my hand runs through my toned stomach… I ruffle my blonde hair.

How come I look like an angel, yet I’m the very opposite of it?

I sin.

A lot. 

I groaned once again, gripping my hair in frustration, as I don’t want to face my father, I moved out of his house due to that very reason.

He’s an older man, I don’t want to see him, not now, not ever.

My hands rest in my neck, as I rub it, the harsh scars in my neck, a daily reminder of the girl I met two years ago… It feels like it’s been forever… a lot has happened since. I really was entranced… with her… she would have been mine already if she wasn’t gone.

Since I asked my father for her, he told me that she was found dead between her parents.

Suicide.

Apparently, her parents were murdered, she couldn’t stand it, and she followed after them… She looked beautiful, even when dead.

Why am I even thinking about a dead girl?

Oh yeah, right the mark on the neck.

I really still loathe her, feeling bad about it, since she is dead now, but still, I can’t help it.

She did impact my life in the short amount of time we’ve had an interaction. Again, a lot has happened ever since. I walk to my closet, as I chose my outfit for today. A simple navy colored suit, a blue tie. A black heavy coat on top. I style my hair. These shades make my eyes pop, in a more grayish shade. Once I’m satisfied, I walk out of my room, as the maids align, muttering soft greetings that I ignore.

I am in no mood, fairly, I take my time to walk downstairs, my father’s humming when he realizes I was in the kitchen already, I hate this man… he still manages to get back although I don’t call him.

“Good morning, son” he says with an obnoxiously obvious fake care.

“Morning, Belial” I say, refusing to call him father, dad, or any parental nickname

“How’s the investigation going?” He pretends nonchalance, but there is a subtle undertone of urgence in his voice.

“The investigation is just fine” I answer shortly, not even sparing him a glance, as I prepare my coffee. The silence is loud, as both of us just do their own thing, not acknowledging the huge elephant in the room.

He wants me to catch the criminal. Just to have his revenge. And I want to. But I want to give proper punishment to the criminal, since they killed my fathers associates.

But also, I am kind of glad they did.

I have nothing about them.

Only the crime scene. Not a name, not an age, hell, not even a gender. But I have a gut feeling that it’s a woman… Although, all the evidence points at a man, middle aged, but something is off about that description…

“I’ll get going,” I tell my dad, as I gulp down the rest of the coffee in my cup in a swing, placing the cup on the counter.

“Son, you better get them, whoever they are, I know they’re coming for me”

“I will. Don’t you worry”  and with that I leave the kitchen to the front door, where I take my Mercedes to go to work.

In the way my mind fills with questions, swirling in my head, tormenting me… My phone rings.

I groan, already knowing it’s Noah, with updates. I don’t want to pick it up. After a few moments, I pick up the phone, and place it on my ear.

“Noah, what is it?” my tone comes out stern and cold.

“Mr. Aphra, we have a new body” I close my eyes, cursing under my breath.

Another yet victim. I know who did it, therefore I don’t even bother asking.

“Who’s the victim?” my tone is still stern, as I keep driving.

“Francesco Kennedy”  his voice comes on the phone. I groan.

“How?”

“Like the others, sir”

I sigh. Same old. Slaughtered neck, their eyes out. Their hands cut. Three shots in the dick. Rocks in their eyes, and mouth full of rose petals. And initials. Y heart F.

Who are those? I’ve got no fucking idea.

This man is making me go crazy.

It’s a psychopath, and women are not usually, so it’s a man. I’m sure. Fuck the gut feeling.

Maybe he lost the love of his life. Maybe he is just being a maniac.

When I reach my office, I sigh, letting myself fall on the desk chair. I take a cigarette, between my fingers, and take a drag. I sigh.

What a pleasure.

The feeling didn’t last long, as Noah barged into the room, with a laptop in hand. I don't even bother to glance at him. He’s probably going to tell me how cleanly the assesination was, and probably banter about some insignificant detail.

“Show me what you’ve got”  I say, defeated.

“Of course, sir. But what you’ll see will surprise you. We’ve got camera footage of the suspect.”

I sit straight, jolting from my chair, as this is the first evidence I have in months. Months of nothing, and now a camera footage… wait… something smells wrong here, and it’s definitely not my feet.

Why till now?

We’ve seen the suspect avoiding cameras professionally. Why show himself now? What does he want from this?

“Show me!” I don’t even let him talk, as I snatch the laptop, putting it on my lap. I freeze, as the footage plays in front of me.

Dogs bark outside. 

“Sir…” Noah says hesitatingly. I’m frozen, my eyes wide as I stare at the picture.

“It’s a… It’s a woman…?”