Heartbreaker

Prologue

PROLOGUE

ARRONDISSEMENT DE PARIS

16E 23h59

The incessant chime of the house telephone rang throughout the large and vast mansion that stood on the 16th Arrondissement of Paris, France, its echo bouncing off the white marble tiles and walls. The big grandfather clock that adorned the grand living room struck twelve times, indicating that it was midnight; another day had ended, a new one had begun.

Madame-moiselle Marie Barbeau bounded down the cold, white marble staircase, her golden locks bouncing around as she made her descent, pink night gown skimming the cool floor.

Blinking away sleep from her bright green eyes, she yawned, wondering why on earth her Papa had let the house maiden off for the night. Luckily, Marie had not been engulfed by sleep yet that night.

No, her mind was wide awake.

Her body and physical state were, in fact, in fatigue, but her brain was working on overload. Her thoughts dwelled on that new boy, the exchange student from Besançon, who had just arrived a little over a month ago.

Oh, how she fancied him.

With his jet black hair that was oh-so-perfectly styled every day, and those turquoise eyes that reeled you in like a fish to bait, he was, as Claire, her best friend had said exceedingly beau, but strangely humble about his physical advantage - a rather rare trait in boys of his age, thought Marie-, not to mention the fact that he was absolutely brilliant in his studies and super athletic.

Top of the class, with a 4.0-grade point average, a striker for the school football team and small forward for basketball, added with the brain-shocking fact that he had only been in her school for 33 days (not that she was keeping track) he quickly became the school's golden boy.

He was every guy's role model, every mother's desire for a son-in-law, and of course, every girl's dream boy.

He was, for lack of better word, parfait.

Unfortunately, as fast as he was to scale the social hierarchy, he was just as fast to be taken off the market. Not unexpected actually; a four-in-one package like gorgeous André Bazil was hot product.

Marie scowled as she recalled that fact.

However, André Bazil was a player and a huge one at that. You could see him with a different girl almost every four days. No joke. On Monday, it would be Suzie, then on the following Friday, it'll be Christie -the list goes on and on.

But André Bazil was a gentleman, and boy was he the gentle-est gentleman a girl could've ever met. All those girls- whether they've ever been with him or not practically worshipped the ground he strutted on, even when, in reality, he's actually a real asshole.

Oh, but an asshole who knew just what to say to blow a girl away.

The silver light that fell from the full moon lit up the slightly dark lobby as Marie made her way to the telephone. As Marie reached the overly-decorated peach-coloured house phone, she cleared her throat before grabbing the receiver.

"Allo?" she greeted in an unenthusiastic voice, to show the caller that she was not-in fact-happy to have been awoken.

The distinct voice of the caller rang through the empty hall as he greeted Marie.

"Bon soir, Madame. This is the police."

Shit.

"I am very sorry to disturb you Madame, but may I ask; are you Madame Madaline Barbeau? Mother to Madame-moiselle Adalie Barbeau?" he continued in rapid french.

'Oh god, what did she do now?' thought Marie ruefully. 'The police? Did she have to involve the police?'

"Madame?" the inspector asked when Marie had left him hanging.

Snapping out of her stupor, Marie apologised. "Sorry, no this isn't Madaline Barbeau. I'm her daughter, Marie, Adalie's elder sister."

"May I ask, Inspector..." Marie trailed off, ignorant towards the inspector's name.

"Oh! Where are my manners?" exclaimed the officer. "Inspector Bisset, at your service."

"Um, alright. Inspector Bisset, may I ask, what does my sister have to do with the police?"

A pregnant pause followed Marie's enquiry. Even through the many cables that linked her house phone to the police phone, Marie could feel the tension radiating from the police office.

And then, Bisset spoke.

"Marie, is your sister at home?" he asked, all traces of cheerfulness gone as his voice turned grave and dark.

Marie shook her head, then remembering that the officer couldn't see her, cleared her throat. "No, not tonight. She's at her friend's house. They're having a sleepover."

Inspector Bisset said nothing.

"Excuse me, but what does this have to do with Adalie?" asked Marie again, getting slightly annoyed.

"You are 100 per cent sure that Madame-moiselle Adalie Rose Barbeau is not at place of residence No 14, 16th Arrondissement of Paris, France?" asked Bisset Bisset once more, deliberately avoiding Marie's question.

"Inspector, you're not answering my ques-"

"Yes or no, Marie?" stressed Inspector Bisset, cutting Marie off mid-sentence.

"Yes, I am positive," Marie half-shouted, resisting an ever-tempting eye-roll.

Marie was getting annoyed with the officer on the phone. He wasn't answering any of her questions and kept asking her where Adalie was. Adalie is her sister, of course Marie would know about her whereabouts.

"Inspector, what's going on? What's this got to do with my sister?" asked Marie one more time.

Inspector Bisset took a deep breath before uttering her response.

"What?" cried Marie, incredulous, letting out a humourless laugh. "What are you talking about? Of course Adalie is at her friend's house! Where else would she be?"

Bisset paused, as if contemplating whether he should release the information or not before uttering an answer.

"No, no, no," denied Marie, her voice rising octave by octave as panic flooded her chest. "That's impossible, inspector! Adalie is at Caroline Thereux's house! Check the address! 79, rue des Pyrénées. Paris, Fran-"

Marie clenched her teeth as Bisset cut her off once more.

Marie paused after hearing Bisset's response, her breathing rapidly getting heavier as she took in this new piece of information, worry worming into her heart.

Marie took a shaky breath to calm her nerves before enquiring one last time, her voice quivering and sounding close to tears. "Inspector, what's going on with my sister?"

"What?" she breathed, a mixture of shock and terror plastered all over her facial features.

Marie gasped as the caller recited the final sentence that made her heart stop in her chest and her blood run cold. Her limbs felt weak and heavy, feeling like they would fall right off if Marie made any sudden drastic movements. She felt extremely dizzy, as if her brain had been fried and scrambled, like eggs. All previous thoughts that still lingered on André Bazil flew out the window as Madame-moiselle Barbeau's brain registered the words that echoed through her ear canal and into her brain.

The receiver clattered noisily to the ground.

*****

Heyo! This is a new project I've been working on, and surprisingly I've been able to proceed with this one better that the previous two. Hopefully, I'll be able to finish this one. Anyway, to those of you who're willing to read this: Thank you, and enjoy!