THE dim light of the underground chamber cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, reflecting the growing tension in the room. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and leather, mingling with an undercurrent of palpable anger. At the head of the long mahogany table sat Lord Lucario. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, now burned with a mixture of rage and disbelief.
Jasira stood before him. Her posture was rigid, her face a mask of defiance and regret. She had never seen her dad this furious at her before, and the sight unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
She and the others had arrived the mansion like few minutes ago, they still didn’t know that the task failed until they saw the gloominess on her face, and they concluded within themselves.
Immediately she alighted the car, she had walked straight to Lord Lucario’s study to tell him the outcome, not just the outcome, but the other thing troubling her heart, and now here she was, doing that.
“You failed,” Lucario’s voice was a low growl, resonating through the chamber. “For the first time ever, you failed a mission,” he added.
He hadn’t heard any news carrying the victim’s death saw he knew even before she could say it, that she failed.
Jasira took a deep breath, steeling herself against the onslaught she knew was coming.
“I know,” she replied, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “I-“, she wanted to add, but he roughly cut her short.
“You what?” He shouted, slamming his fist on the table, making the glasses on it tremble.
“Oh my! I had always known something was off about you, your behavior of recent, I had always known,” he said fisting his hands in the air as she spoke.
She sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered under her breath.
He looked at her disdainfully.
“Oh goodness! Sorry? Would that solve the big nonsense you have just committed?” He questioned again, and she kept mute this time.
“You hesitated,” he continued, “you let Marcus Romano slip through your fingers. Do you have any idea what this means for us? For our family?” He barked the questions.
Her mind immediately flashed back to the moment at the mansion, to the image of Jeremy and the turmoil that had clouded her judgement.
“I do,” she said softly, “but there is something you need to understand.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What could possibly justify this failure, Jasira? You, of all people, know the stakes. You were supposed to be my successor, the one I could rely on.”
She winced, for the first time since she became his protegee, he called her her name.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she blurted out, the words rushing out before she could stop them. “I don’t want this life. I want out.”
She spilled it.
***
Amelia stepped out of her sleek black Sedan, her Louboutin heels clicking sharply on the polished stone driveway of the sprawling mansion.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the meticulously manicured lawns, but her mind was clouded with unease, it was always clouded with unease anyway.
Despite Jeremy’s warnings the other day, she yet found herself at his mansion, visiting without a prior notice.
She made a face.
“Damn! Why should I inform my fiance of my coming?” She rhetorically questioned.
Jeremy had earlier told her he would be away on a business meeting until the evening, but Amelia decided to use the opportunity to pay a visit.
She approached the grand front door, its imposing size a reminder of his immense wealth and influence. The guard by the door swung it open, and she stepped inside the cool, marble-floored foyer.
The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint ticking of an ornate grandfather clock in the corner.
Quickly, her eyes scanned the luxurious interior, the crystal chandeliers, the opulent furnishings- everything screamed of wealth and power, she has so missed this place, and her man.
Yet, amidst all this grandeur, something felt off.
As she moved deeper into the house, her unease grew. She headed towards the staircase, her hand trailing along the smooth mahogany banister.
When she reached the top, she made her way to Jeremy’s bedroom, she had earlier been able to get his password.
This bedroom was supposed to be their private sanctuary, a place that should have felt familiar and comforting, but now, as she pushed open the door, an unfamiliar scent hit her- jasmine and vanilla, a perfume she didn’t recognize.
Her heart raced as she stepped inside. The bed was neatly made, but the signs of another woman’s presence were undeniable.
A silk scarf, crimson red, was draped over the back of one of the sofas, she looked away and her eyes landed on the dresser. Next to Jeremy’s watch and cufflinks, laid a delicate pair of gold earrings.
Slowly, she walked up to the dressing table and using her left fingers, she felt the earrings, they obviously weren’t hers.
Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed something else, a lipstick tube, its bright red color standing out starkly against the dark wood of the dresser.
She picked up the lipstick, her fingers trembling. It was a shade she would never wear, too bold, too daring.
Her mind raced with possibilities, each more damning than the last. Who was this woman? How long had she been in Jeremy’s life to begin dropping her things at his place? And why had he never mentioned her, even to the public?
As she stood there, a cold realization washed over her. Jeremy, the man she thought she had fallen in love with, the man whom had been betrothed to her right from childhood was gradually leaving her hands.
Her thoughts were instantly interrupted by the creaking of the door. Amelia’s heart pounded as she slowly turned towards it to behold Jeremy standing there, in his bloom of handsomeness and staring at her.
She gasped and the lipstick tube in her hand fell off. Oh jeez! She just wasn’t expecting him.
“Amelia?” He called softly, “what are you doing here?” He asked, his voice carefully controlled.