Dangerous Silence

Chapter 20

I'm soooooooooo sorry for the horrible update :/ (And a lot of scene changes)

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A man in a casual pair of trousers and vest stood at the corner of the street, skimming through the newspaper in his hands, blending effortlessly in the crowd of the metropolis. Every six seconds or so, his eyes flickered towards the door of Flemming's Dressmakers, keeping out a sharp eye for any suspicious movement among the crowd while waiting for their target to come outside.

The task provided to him was indeed peculiar, but so was the target. It donned a vest with shiny purple peacocks embroidered on it, glinting in the occasional ray of light and its features too, were...to put it mildly, quite unlike a normal man. A bit chubby, round and, er unusual for someone of the working class and of his age.

However, he was fully aware of his employer's temperament and prefered to silently carry out his work and keep his questions and opinions to himself. Turning yet another page of the newspaper, he looked up out of the corner of his eye to see the door open and a woman in a blue dress and blonde hair step out hurriedly and flag a cabbie. As she flung herself inside, he heard her ask the cabbie to hurry up to the Docks.

Strange woman, he thought, drawing back his attention towards his newspaper as he awaited the return of Mr. Victor Linton.

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Rikkard Ambrose hated anything that was a waste of his precious time. Knowlege is power is time is money, and thus a waste of time was equivalent to wasting money, something he never ever intended to do.

However, as he had to waste approximately 12 seconds to search for each one of his file in the three trunks of the only luggage he had seen important enough to carry himself, he convinced himself that it was the inconvinience caused due to the lack of a secretary that was the cause of his irritation and lack of focus.

It wasn't at all related any way to the fact that he might have been missing a certain someone's grumblings, banters and unnecessary face contortions which were being the cause of the unusual number of times his finger kept on twitching recently. It wasn't as if Rikkard Ambrose was actually wasting his time fetching his own files and missing someone. Indeed not. Nothing to do with that at all.

Then why was he still wasting his time reminiscing the feel of her soft lips perfectly moulding with his, her fingers in his hair, her figure pressed close to him, safe- Stop!

Another muscle pulled in his chest and he gritted his teeth in a desperate attempt to get rid of the images seared behind his eyelids, the touch of an ifrit imprinted on his skin. These kind of distractions were intolerable!

His fingers curled into a fist as he reread the same paragraph for the second time. If he had to get back that file, he needed to focus. Not a single moment could be afforded to be wasted!

A few minutes had passed when he realised he was rereading the same page for the third time, his mind seemingly fixated on the issue of his...his reckless ex-secretary's safety and if he had seen her for the last time-No!

The mere thought of not seeing her again, not hearing her curse and grumble at him or tease and laugh at him sent a...very inadequate feeling coursing through his veins and led to the pulling of another muscle in his chest, something the doctor had reassured him wasn't an after effect of...his swim in the English Channel and he had the most unreasonable and ridiculous urge to make sure that she remained unharmed.

What the bloody hell was wrong with him?!

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