Broken Promises [Book Two | REMASTERED]

Chapter 8: Paris

Paris, France

        The party was ecstatic.  Beautiful women dressed in glamorous dresses passed by the men with flirtatious smiles, looking for one of them to put their arm around their waist for the evening.  Tonight's sea of young men were not all so young, yet all were mostly wealthy and held power politically.  War generals remained the most enticed, all dressed in their own uniforms with their medals on display. One of which was General Nhaun, a Vietnamese army official.  As he toasted another drink to their victory, the official to his right reached across the woman between them to put a hand on his arm, stopping the drink from reaching his lips.

        "General," the man spoke above the music in their native tongue, "maybe you should slow down. We have a big day tomorrow." 

        Nhaun shook his head with a smile. "We're celebrating, captain! It's not every day you win a war, let alone against the American devils."

        That shut the man up as he did not answer. Nhaun simply continued to smile and gave a curt nod. "I'm getting another bottle," he declared before standing up and making his way to the bar. The place was crowded with people passing in front of him and dancing all around. As he neared the bar, he spotted a pretty young woman. She was dressed in a tight dress with a designer white coat that looked soft to the touch. Her skin was pale with scattered freckles, her blonde hair done up beautifully. She glanced at him for only a moment before she turned away.

        His interest couldn't have been any more piqued. 

        He came to stand by her side, trying to make his place at the bar. However, it seemed he had bumped into her, making her accidentally lurk forward and spill her drink on the bar itself. She turned to look at him with surprise, but he already had apology on his tongue.

        "Excuse me," he said, still in his native Vietnamese.

        "I'm pretty sure it was my fault," the woman answered without hesitation, proving that she was fluent in his language. 

        Nhaun smiled at that. "You speak Vietnamese?"

        "I'm an interpreter."  And as he looked her up and down, she smiled. "I speak many tongues."

        He seemed at a loss for words for a second, taking her all in with his eyes. He could see the little black dress she was wearing through the opening in her coat.  Everything about her was mysterious and intriguing.  

        "Let me buy you a drink," he offered, but then he glanced around. "Unless you're here with someone?"

        The mystery woman's smile only fell for a moment. "I'm alone."

        With a nod, he turned to the bartender.  "A bottle of Johnnie Walker, please," he ordered before looking back to the beautiful woman by his side.  All she did was smile back at him with a mischievous little glint in her brown eyes.

        

        General Nhaun's hotel room was beautifully decorated and well lit.  Decorative fruit remained on the table, the walls covered with exquisite paintings and fabulous lights scattered to create the perfect atmosphere. General Nhaun turned over two glasses before pouring the dark brown liquid into each, preparing drinks for himself and this mystery woman he had brought back to his room. He had yet to learn her name, but he was entirely fine with that. He had done many things with women of which he did not know their names.

        This mystery woman circled the room slowly, seeming to admire the decorations of the interior. When she came to the table, she did not look at the bowl of fake fruit. Instead, she looked down at letters and papers strewn across the table's surface, her eyes landing on an invitation that lie opened before her.  

        "You're going to the Summit tomorrow?" She asked innocently, looking up and across the room to him.  

        Nhaun smiled, setting the bottle down. "A pretty girl interested in politics." He removed his uniform jacket, setting it the side.

        She only smiled again, her eyes proving to be the only trait that showed the truth behind her true intentions. As if he was busy looking into her eyes; he rather liked looking elsewhere, as all men did. "Looks can be deceiving. . ."

        He grabbed their glasses and moved to approach her, displaying both dominance and want in his features and body language.  Nhaun switched to English now, done playing games. "Show me more," he spoke, circling her, "baby."  He stood in front of her finally, smirking. "Clothes off."

        For a moment, she seemed to agree with him, looking down at herself as she slowly opened her coat to reveal her dress. But as it opened, his eyes caught a hint of movement, and the light finally caught the wave of blue scales that seemed to travel up and envelop her body, eventually reaching her face.  Her skin had thus turned blue with scales and patterns along her cheekbones and forehead, leading further down her body.  Her eyes transformed from the shade of dark honey to a bright yellow and black, her blonde hair suddenly the shade of red like fire.  

        His smile had turned down, his face displaying the horror and sudden fear or who and what this woman—creature—was. 

        "What's the matter, baby?" She mocked, her voice harsher and far more dominant than he could muster in that moment. She tilted her head, looking almost like a cat about to strike on her prey. "You don't think I look pretty like this?"  

        He had no time to answer as she threw her jacket off, moving faster than lightening as she kicked her right leg up, landing her foot to his adam's apple and holding him up against the wall behind him.  Her eyes resembled those of a predator, looking deep into his eyes as she watched Nhaun struggle and choke, desperately gripping her ankle to try and move it.  His efforts were of no use, however, as his eyes eventually rolled and slipped closed, his struggling ceased.  

        Mystique then turned to look behind her at the table, still holding the general up as she grabbed the written invitation to the Summit from the tabletop, reading over it, memorizing every detail. She slowly lowered his body to the ground, reading the invitation word for word over and over. Thinking for a moment, Mystique looked at Nhaun's body on the floor. She knew what she had to do.