( CHAPTER SIXTEEN . )

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NEW YORK CITY



SHE DROVE THROUGH THE STREETS OF NEW YORK WITH NO REAL DESTINATION IN HER MIND, she didn't know where she was going and at this point she didn't even really care. Her mind kept drifting from the light fading from Georgina's eyes, to the moment she followed Billy Russo to that bar, only to see him hook up with Dinah Madani, and leave with her. In the eyes of bystanders, she probably looked like a mad woman, hell she felt like a mad woman. She was speeding down the streets, barely paying attention to anything besides the road, ignoring the signs⎯ she was lucky she didn't get stopped by the cops, she didn't need to spend a night in a cell over some stupid teenage feelings⎯ she kept reminding herself; feelings are weakness. She wasn't weak. Giselle Moreau was Femme Fatale, anf if Billy failed to see it⎯ and chose a pretty Homeland agent instead, then it's his loss. 

Of course he would choose a Homeland agent⎯ probably was ordered by Agent Orange to keep her in line, Dinah Madani was getting in the way of his illegal work. 

She reached her apartment without really knowing how or why she chose to drive all the way back to a messy⎯ and dead apartment. It didn't feel like home, not like Paris⎯ not like in Billy's arms. She was being petty, and she knew it. 

She had a need to kill someone, to murder him or her ( preferably her ) in cold blood with her knives, stabbing them in the gut, the eye, anything, anywhere. But she knew, that she needed to lay back with Karakurt back in town, she was an easy target. If she kills someone⎯ she knows him well enough to assume that he'd find her in a day. 

She was in deep drowning in her thoughts, when the ringtone brought her back to life. Noticing it was Zanetakos, she immediately took the call. 

"Hey so uh‒ remember when I told you tomorrow's problem?" came his nervous voice. 

"They were following you." she stated calmly, taking a deep breath and heading to her window to watch the city around her. Another one of her wisest ideas, to get an apartment in the middle of New York. They assumed that once running, she would move in a calm place, where no one would recognize her, instead she opted for the city. "Who?" 

"I don't know." he was truthfull, Marcel ignored who was following him. "Could be Karakurt, could be Rawlins‒ Frank Castle or Herrera. Your sister killed his sister, you killed his brother and lover. The man must hold one hell of a grudge against you Moreau women." 

Giselle chuckled lightly at his latest remark. "Santiago is a little puppy, and Rawlins is an easter bunny compared to Karakurt." she needed to think‒ and fast. "Frank Castle won't risk coming at you, he doesn't know you." 

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