Why Me? ⚣

Chapter 14

The city lights of Manhattan shimmered like a million diamonds scattered across the velvet night, their reflections fluttering in the rearview mirror as Marcel expertly navigated the busily silent concrete jungle. The car purred like a contented feline, a soothing addition to the silence that had fallen between us. A cool breeze, fragrant with the perfume of unseen blossoms, added a touch of unexpected, yet welcome sweetness to the night.

I stole a glance at Marcel, his profile illuminated by the soft, ethereal glow of the dashboard lights. His face was a mask of tranquility with only a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His eyes, usually guarded and impenetrable as bedrock, sparkled with a gentle, welcoming tenderness.

Without a word, he reached for my hand, fingers lacing through mine in a quiet, easy motion. It wasn't overly tender or dramatic- just comfortable. Like he was reminding me that we were in this together, whatever "this" was.

A siren cried out somewhere in the distance, but neither of us said anything. The hum of the engine filled the space, and somehow, that felt enough.

When Marcel finally pulled into the driveway, the car settled with a soft jolt. For a moment, neither of us moved. The air inside had shifted to something different; something more tense and expectant.

We stepped out into the cool night, the door closing behind us with a soft click, the only sound in the hush of the street. The car beeped for a moment as he locked it, stuffing the keys back into his pocket and walking up the concrete. I followed closely behind, eager to get back into the house and away from the cold wind.

At the front door, our eyes met, and for a breathtaking moment, words seemed utterly superfluous. I stepped closer, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Reaching up, I cupped his face with my palms, my fingers tracing the contours of his defined jawline.

In that moment, everything else fell away. No more second-guessing, no more holding back. Our lips met in a kiss that was less perfect and more urgent. My heart pounded in my chest as I leaned into him, ecstasy coursing through my veins like a bullet.

My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer. The kiss deepened, passionate and soul-baring, leaving my senses reeling. I gave in to his control, my body arching against his abdomen. A wave of heat surged through me, and I suddenly wanted to shed the layers I'd worn earlier in the windy park.

Then, just as the intensity began to crest, Marcel's phone started ringing. He really had to get a hold of all those devices; just managing to ruin every intimate moment of ours.

We froze. Still pressed together, breathing hard.

"Seriously?" he muttered, fumbling for the phone in his pocket. It slipped from his grip, clattering down the concrete steps behind us. He cursed under his breath and moved to retrieve it. I let out a small laugh, more from the sheer awkwardness than anything else. He quickly retrieved the phone, playfully covering my mouth with his free hand.

I watched as his smile faltered, the spark fading from his eyes, to be replaced by a grim, almost wary expression. He covered the receiver with his hand, his gaze hardening as he spoke in hushed tones, "Yes, sir. I understand. But why now?"

He pulled out the house keys and unlocked the door, darting upstairs to his room, following which a loud thud resounded through the house.

Driven by a mix of curiosity and trepidation, I slipped off my shoes and ascended the stairs, my footsteps light as I approached his room. Reaching the door, I paused, my hand hovering over the cool wood. Hesitation battled with a need to know, and ultimately, curiosity won. I pressed my ear gently against the solid surface, straining to hear the conversation unfolding within.

The phone, left on speaker, amplified Marcel's agitated pacing. Each frustrated stride across the room sent vibrations through the thin door, a low drumbeat against my ear. I pressed closer, straining to hear the other side of the conversation.

A gruff voice, laced with an unsettling tone of caution, responded from the other end.

"They know about us. About him. You need to be extremely cautious. Trust no one."

"What do I do?" Marcel asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. It had a hint of an unmistakable urgency to it, seemingly indicative of a looming mischance.

"Lay low. Don't make any sudden moves. You've done excellent work with Elliott, that much is in our favor. They won't suspect anything from that angle."

"How much do they know so far?," Marcel replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Further details will be provided in person. We can't run the risk of interception," it declared. "But you must comply. Every move, every contact, must be meticulously documented. And remember, any deviation from the plan will have... consequences."

"Understood," Marcel replied, his words a mere formality, a hollow acknowledgment of the orders he had just received.

Then, the line went dead, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The world tilted on its axis, the vibrant hues of the night draining away, hiding behind a monochrome veil. I was unable to fully comprehend the weight of this new revelation.

The realization finally hit me like a physical blow, the force of it knocking the breath from my lungs. It was all a lie. A carefully constructed charade, a masterful performance designed to manipulate, to deceive. My heart, foolishly hopeful, had been shattered into a thousand pieces, the fragments scattered across the bare, unforgiving ground.

How could I have been so blind? How could I have fallen for his charm, his manufactured tenderness? I had been a pawn in his game, a mere instrument to be used and discarded at his convenience. The weight of betrayal pressed down on me, a familiar feeling that numbed my senses. I knew that such happiness couldn't possibly be real but I'd still allowed myself some of it.

I stumbled back to my own room, my legs weak, my vision blurring. The shadows seemed to lengthen, the air growing heavy with the weight of my findings. Betrayal, I had come to learn, was a poison that seeped into the very core of your being, leaving behind a trail of desolation and despair.

Reaching my room, I slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the silent house, a desperate attempt to drown out the cacophony of emotions swirling within me. I sank onto the bed, my body trembling, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

My phone buzzed with a text message from Vivien. It was a reminder of our upcoming photoshoot. I should have reached out to her, sought solace in her warm, empathetic presence. But the thought of sharing my pain, of exposing my vulnerability, filled me with a suffocating dread. The image of her concerned gaze, her gentle inquiries, the inevitable outpouring of emotions... it all felt overwhelming. I feared the weight of her sympathy, the pity in her eyes. I hated the pity. It felt like a judgment, a confirmation that I was weak; that I couldn't handle this alone. I wanted to disappear, to vanish into the shadows by myself. I wanted to fall back into a world of sunshine and rainbows, where nothing was complicated and everything didn't seem so unfair.

I switched off my phone, the frigid glass a stark contrast to the warmth that had so recently pulsed through my body. I closed my eyes, burying my face in the pillow, the soothing scent of lavender doing little to calm me with its usual redolence.

To think that I'd confided in a man who was simply collecting information for his job. Of course, it all made sense now. The shared laughter, the stolen glances, the intoxicating intimacy- it had all been a carefully orchestrated performance, a fleeting mirage designed to lull me into a false sense of security.

The worst part was that I'd fallen hard for it. For all of it. For him.

I stared at the ceiling, eyes dry, though they shouldn't have been. Maybe the tears would come later, when the numbness wore off. Maybe not. Maybe I didn't want to give him that, too.