Wildfire Book I - Survival Instinct

A Journey begins

Journeys end in lovers meeting.

William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

A deep breath filled her lungs as Grace Lavoie was abruptly ripped from her dreams by the alarm clock's croaking beep. She silenced the unwelcome device. Her long, filigree fingers glided across her face, rubbing the last sleep from her eyes. A deep, heavy sigh crept across her lips as the troublemaker on her bedside table announced 8:15 AM. She turned her gaze over to the large window front, which opened a breathtaking view of Lake Ontario. It was a sunny July morning in Toronto, and already the oppressive sultriness that the day would bring could be felt. She stretched one last time before her feet found the ground.

"... it is not known whether the attackers were possibly under the influence of any new form of drugs or suffered from severe psychological problems. ", the absurdly large flat-screen TV was just receiving the morning news from all over the world, while underneath it, today's stock prices were rotating in an endless loop.

"Good morning darling, I thought you weren't getting up at all today - didn't you have a rather full schedule?", Patrick said over his morning espresso and gave her an amused grin. Patrick Fitzgerald - her fiancé. The son of one of the best-heeled banker families in Canada - maybe even the whole continent. She could have done worse. She led a very privileged life. She lacks nothing. She wore the most elaborate jewelry, dressed in the latest designer pieces straight from the catwalk. She had a home that resembled a palace. What's more, Patrick was exceptionally attractive. The way he sat there, with his deep black hair combed back, his striking chin, his aristocratic features, and his three-day beard - all wrapped up in a grey Desmond Merrion suit.

She let herself be carried away by the sight of him with a dreamy smile - often enough she wondered why it was she, of all people, who caught his attention at university.

"Yes, I know, but I thought a girl can take things a little slower before her wedding," she countered, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly as she poured herself some coffee. The staff had already prepared breakfast. A stack of still hot steaming pancakes invited to nibble. Just as she put two of them on a plate, it was Patrick's big hands that pulled the sweet sin out of her hands.

"Oh, no, dear. I specifically instructed Gerald to make you a kale smoothie. You don't want to spoil this fine body that I generously gave so much of my hard-earned money for with sugar and gluten. Do you? Just now, before our wedding," he murmured into her ear as the plate was delivered into the hands of the approaching Gerald. Together with the other delicacies, which were apparently prepared just for Patrick, they went into the trash.

Perplexed, Grace turned around and met his green eyes, which always seemed to devour her.

"I..." she began - she didn't know what to say. She didn't have the words.

"Just now, before our wedding, you want to stay pretty for me, don't you? Or do you want to look like a big dumpling in front of all my friends, business associates, and family? You don't want that, do you?", he reiterated in his usual inquisitive tone, which did not tolerate any contradiction.

"I... no, of course not Patrick," it was true, he had invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in what he called "her optical enhancement". Just to boost her own self-esteem, of course, as he never got tired of pointing out. Plastic surgery, personal trainers, various coaches, stylists, dresses. She lived the dream, and this was the prize.