Page 48
Story: Onyx Realm
Damn him, but Markos was right. I enjoyed this espionage stuff way too much.
Slipping through the crowd, I ducked past a server carrying a tray of canapés and slipped into the hallway. The chatter of the party faded behind me as I moved quickly down the corridor, my heart hammering against my ribs. The polished hardwood floor gleamed under the recessed lighting, and I kept to the edges to minimize any creaking.
“Third door on the right,” Markos’s voice crackled in my ear.
I paused at the threshold, glancing both ways. The coast was clear. My fingers trembled slightly as I turned the ornate brass doorknob. It opened with a soft click that seemed thunderous in the quiet hallway.
The office was everything I expected from a wealthy socialite’s home – mahogany desk, leather chair, tasteful art on the walls that probably cost more than Evangelia’s entire wardrobe. I closed the door behind me and stood still for a moment, breathing hard.
My body shook with excitement.
Drawing a deep breath into my lungs, I rushed forward and pulled the device, the size of a button, from my pocket. I peeled the backing off as I searched for a good place to hide it. The instruction from Markos’s friend had been not under the desk. But there was no lamp to hide it in the shade.
A small ink stand that likely held a decorative purpose seemed like a good choice. It was a scorpion, poised and ready to strike. I slid the device under the creature’s belly, rejoicing that there was just enough room there to conceal it. Standing back, I examined my work to make sure it wasn’t visible.
“Watch out!” Markos warned. “Serena, hide!”
The panic in his voice made me freeze.
The doorknob jiggled, once—twice. And then it swung open to reveal a classically good-looking man a few years older than me. His eyes hardened as he saw me.
A small, embarrassing squeak escaped my lips.
Whatever was being said in my ear faded as the room grew smaller. Each inhale was short, and my vision tunneled to focus only on the mask of wrath staring at me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the man barked.
I did perhaps the most humiliating thing I could have done. I burst into tears.
Growling a string of curses in a voice that was both terrifying and authoritative, the man marched across the room and slammed the door behind him with the flourish of a battle commander. The noise ricocheted off the walls, startling me so completely that my tears turned into sobs. They wracked my shoulders and made it even harder to breathe.
“Sit down,” he ordered with a voice like a whip crack.
His sternness reduced me to a meek, quivering mess, but I did as I was told and slumped into the leather chair.
“You’re going to tell me who you are and who sent you,” he demanded. “And if I like your answer, you can leave.”
But his expression said otherwise. It told me there was no way out. There was a steely resolve in those eyes––a promise of dire consequences. In a desperate attempt to escape his wrath, I came up with an idea. A stupid one. More than stupid.
“He’s here,” I sobbed, letting the words tumble out. “He’s here!”
“Serena,” Markos warned.
I wished more than anything I could turn that voice off. My entire soul was rattling inside me. I clasped my hands around my ears, but the earpiece made Markos’s voice echo even louder,and that terrible man standing above me was far too close. I needed to focus. I needed the tears to continue. I needed to spin this story to my advantage.
I slumped over, sliding my hands over my face. I wiped at the makeup without making it obvious that’s what I was doing. After all, there was no guarantee the bastard would fall for this.
“Who?” the man snapped, growing impatient.
“My ex,” I choked out at last. The words were punctuated with a sob. “I’m just trying to make some extra money to leave town, and he followed me!”
I waited, breath bated and heart fluttering, to see if he would take the bait.
Slowly, I peeked up. I hoped the tears melted enough foundation from my face to help sell the story. The bruises were faint, the scrapes nearly gone. I hadn’t needed much goop to hide them. From the way the man hissed, I knew it worked. Where, just moments ago, his fury promised me a slow death, now his eyes almost seemed to show pity.
The man approached and crouched in front of me. “He did that to you?”
I nodded. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to hide. I was going to jump out the window and make a run for it. But—but—”
Slipping through the crowd, I ducked past a server carrying a tray of canapés and slipped into the hallway. The chatter of the party faded behind me as I moved quickly down the corridor, my heart hammering against my ribs. The polished hardwood floor gleamed under the recessed lighting, and I kept to the edges to minimize any creaking.
“Third door on the right,” Markos’s voice crackled in my ear.
I paused at the threshold, glancing both ways. The coast was clear. My fingers trembled slightly as I turned the ornate brass doorknob. It opened with a soft click that seemed thunderous in the quiet hallway.
The office was everything I expected from a wealthy socialite’s home – mahogany desk, leather chair, tasteful art on the walls that probably cost more than Evangelia’s entire wardrobe. I closed the door behind me and stood still for a moment, breathing hard.
My body shook with excitement.
Drawing a deep breath into my lungs, I rushed forward and pulled the device, the size of a button, from my pocket. I peeled the backing off as I searched for a good place to hide it. The instruction from Markos’s friend had been not under the desk. But there was no lamp to hide it in the shade.
A small ink stand that likely held a decorative purpose seemed like a good choice. It was a scorpion, poised and ready to strike. I slid the device under the creature’s belly, rejoicing that there was just enough room there to conceal it. Standing back, I examined my work to make sure it wasn’t visible.
“Watch out!” Markos warned. “Serena, hide!”
The panic in his voice made me freeze.
The doorknob jiggled, once—twice. And then it swung open to reveal a classically good-looking man a few years older than me. His eyes hardened as he saw me.
A small, embarrassing squeak escaped my lips.
Whatever was being said in my ear faded as the room grew smaller. Each inhale was short, and my vision tunneled to focus only on the mask of wrath staring at me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the man barked.
I did perhaps the most humiliating thing I could have done. I burst into tears.
Growling a string of curses in a voice that was both terrifying and authoritative, the man marched across the room and slammed the door behind him with the flourish of a battle commander. The noise ricocheted off the walls, startling me so completely that my tears turned into sobs. They wracked my shoulders and made it even harder to breathe.
“Sit down,” he ordered with a voice like a whip crack.
His sternness reduced me to a meek, quivering mess, but I did as I was told and slumped into the leather chair.
“You’re going to tell me who you are and who sent you,” he demanded. “And if I like your answer, you can leave.”
But his expression said otherwise. It told me there was no way out. There was a steely resolve in those eyes––a promise of dire consequences. In a desperate attempt to escape his wrath, I came up with an idea. A stupid one. More than stupid.
“He’s here,” I sobbed, letting the words tumble out. “He’s here!”
“Serena,” Markos warned.
I wished more than anything I could turn that voice off. My entire soul was rattling inside me. I clasped my hands around my ears, but the earpiece made Markos’s voice echo even louder,and that terrible man standing above me was far too close. I needed to focus. I needed the tears to continue. I needed to spin this story to my advantage.
I slumped over, sliding my hands over my face. I wiped at the makeup without making it obvious that’s what I was doing. After all, there was no guarantee the bastard would fall for this.
“Who?” the man snapped, growing impatient.
“My ex,” I choked out at last. The words were punctuated with a sob. “I’m just trying to make some extra money to leave town, and he followed me!”
I waited, breath bated and heart fluttering, to see if he would take the bait.
Slowly, I peeked up. I hoped the tears melted enough foundation from my face to help sell the story. The bruises were faint, the scrapes nearly gone. I hadn’t needed much goop to hide them. From the way the man hissed, I knew it worked. Where, just moments ago, his fury promised me a slow death, now his eyes almost seemed to show pity.
The man approached and crouched in front of me. “He did that to you?”
I nodded. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to hide. I was going to jump out the window and make a run for it. But—but—”
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