Fatal Alliances

Chapter 11

Why would he do that? Out of all these guys I trusted Finneas the most. Not Ricardo, not Donnie, not Vandermir. It was a simple question I had asked, it wasn’t anything extravagant. So why couldn’t he just tell me the truth? What was Finny hiding? What if Finneas was the most dangerous out of these men? What if he used his innocent looks and gentleman-like manners to trick people? No, he wouldn’t do that. There’s no way possible. He wouldn’t be so deceptive. He couldn’t be. Not him. It hurt the most to know that he lied to me, that too on such a trivial matter. If Finny could lie that easily to me about how long he knew someone, what else would he be hiding? Was anything he ever told me true? One thing I figured out for sure now was that he wasn’t the person I thought he was. He wasn’t the person I wished he could be. He wasn’t different from those guys. Whatever it was, one thing was clear to me, these guys were dangerous and so was whatever business they were up to.

Walking into the room, I noticed there was some sort of wine tasting going on at the other half of the hall.

“Oh, this piece is nice. Have you ever painted Juliet?” he asked as he curiously looked at one of the paintings on display.

There was no way this guy was dangerous. The way he looked so innocently at the painting almost as if he was a little kid that was admiring a house made of candy. How could I think he was even dangerous? Maybe I shouldn’t judge him so quickly. But…why did he lie to me? And so easily he did it too. If I hadn’t seen the photos with him and Adrian I would have bought that whole lie he told me, but now that I know it was not true it just feels like I couldn’t trust him anymore.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked again as he looked at me worriedly.

Why does he even look at me like that? As if I mean something to him? Doesn’t he even see me as a stranger? I mean, that’s exactly what we were to each other. I didn’t even know his last name yet. But why? Why does he even look as if he is actually concerned about me?

I suddenly felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, “Juliet?”

“Oh!” I said a bit startled by his touch.

He kept that concerned look upon his face as he looked down to me.

“I’m sorry Finny, I just zoned out a bit,” I said feeling quite nervous around him now, “Actually, I haven’t painted in such a long time.”

“Ohh…” he said taking a deep breath.

“Do you?” I replied trying to encourage a conversation.

“Well, yes. I love to paint. It’s like a passion you know, a hobby, to get my mind off things.”

What kind of things Finny?

“I see. How long have you started to paint?” I continued.

“Ever since I knew myself actually,” he laughed, “I remember even using my mother’s ketchup and mustard for paint when all the colours were finished. Although, I remember getting a good scolding for that.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, it was kind of adorable. Imagine a little Finny playing around and painting with condiments.

“Well, by now you must be a professional.” I teased.

“I’m hardly even one. Every year I try to do something for the exhibit though, just for fun.”

“Really? Where is your painting then?”

“Umm…it must be here somewhere. I just sent it in, I wasn’t there when they had put it up.” He replied.

Suddenly his phone beeped and he looked at the message almost a bit tired.