The curse of the wolf

Marquis de Anjou

*Anaïs*

“Are you sure that is the dress you want to wear?” Mathis says as I come out of the bedroom. His eyes are slowly running over me. He is wearing a black Hugo Boss tuxedo and looks impeccable.

I look down at the new red cocktail dress with the asymmetric cut, making it shorter in the front, and the off the shoulders sailor-like neckline. I had seen it and knew it needed to come home with me, despite it being the most expensive dress I have ever owned.

Already nervous and slightly stressed about the evening, his words have me worrying and second-guessing my choice. “Yes, why shouldn’t I?”

“It’s… a bit loud, isn’t it?” he says with a small shrug. He starts examining his nails.

“Loud?” I say, unsure what he actually means. Is loud a bad thing? “I am supposed to be the center of attention, am I not?”

Not that I really want all that attention, especially since I don’t feel I deserve it. After all, I was not the one who stopped the terrorist. But I can’t suddenly reject their praise, not without telling the truth, and I promised Griff not to tell anyone that he was there.

I make the decision that I do not care if he thinks my dress is too loud or not from the right designer. I like my dress. This might be the only time in my life when I have the chance to wear something like this.

“I guess so.” A small shrug accompanies his words. “You should probably have chosen a more classic designer. After all, there will be powerful people there.”

“Oh, there will?” To be honest, I have very little knowledge about who attends things like this, as I have never been invited to anything like it before.

He looks at me like I just told him I wanted to play the trumpet with my ass. “Of course, there will be. The mayor will be there, with several politicians and some celebrities. I really hope you are going to make a good impression. This is an opportunity for me to make connections.”

I almost groan out loud. An opportunity for him. Of course, he sees it as an opportunity for him. Griff would never have seen it as an opportunity for him. I stop my train of thoughts. Why had I been thinking that? Also, what do I know about what Griff would feel or think about anything? I guess it was because of how unselfish he had acted, how he had not wanted praise for his heroism. I can’t imagine he would see someone else’s big night as an opportunity for himself.

Why am I still thinking about him? Well, because the man had saved my life. Because he got injured and then just wandered off. I am simply worried that he might have not gotten the help he needed, that he might have collapsed somewhere to die alone.

“We should get going. It would be rude to have them wait for us” I tell him, grabbing my small clutch. Luckily, I had one that fitted well with the dress as my bank account is all but empty right now. Then I put on my best jacket, it will be a bit chill but it is the only one I own that would not ruin the look.

Mathis follows me outside, locking the door behind us. Outside, a town car is waiting by the curb. A chauffeur in a dark suit stands beside it.

He straightens when he sees us. “Miss Bellerose?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling at him. He has kind eyes and I instantly like him. “But please call me Anaïs.”

He opens the door. “I am Jules, your driver for tonight.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Jules,” I tell him with another smile. “This is my fiance, Mathis Aubert.”

The two men merely give each other a measured nod.

I think Jules can see I am struggling a bit, trying to figure out how to get into the car gracefully, as I am not used to fancy dresses and heels. He holds out his hand. “Let me assist you, Anaïs.”

“Thank you,” I say, accepting his hand, which makes it many times easier to get into the car without showing too much leg. Mathis slides in beside me and Jules closes the door.

“This is pretty nice,” my fiance says, sliding his hand over the soft leather seat. “Too bad they did not send a stretch, though. So we could arrive in style.”

I feel embarrassed that Jules might have heard him, and says in a half whisper, “I see no need for that, this is more than enough. We could have grabbed a cab.”

He just gives me this look, one telling me that I am not getting it. Whatever ‘it’ is.

As we drive through the city neither of us says anything. I am trying to figure out what I am going to say when handed the medal. Mathis seems to be going over some kind of speech in his head too, probably his sales pitch.

When we pull up in front of the Eiffel Tower, I feel my stomach knot up with nerves. There is a red carpet rolled out and spotlights moving, making it look like some old-time movie premiere. And of course, people have gathered to see what is going on.

Jules opens the door and Mathis gets out, this time he turns and offers me his hand, probably because there is an audience. I take it and slide out, careful not to show off my panties. I literally had a nightmare last night about doing just that.

“Welcome Miss Bellerose,” a portly man with red cheeks says, stepping forward. He reminds me of one of those quirky porcelain figurines. “I am Ortez Chenot, head of the Héros de France organization. We are so glad to have you here today.”

I take his outstretched hand, expecting a shake, but he pulls me closer, kissing my cheeks. I mean, I know it is considered a French tradition, but I have never actually experienced it before.

“Thank you and it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Chenot,” I tell him as I pull back, repeating what Mathis had instructed me to say. “This is my fiance Mathis Aubert, real estate agent to the elite.”

“Oh… how interesting,” the man says, offering Mathis his plump hand. “A pleasure meeting you, Mr Aubert.”

“Likewise,” Mathis says with a nod, as he shakes the man’s hand.

Mr Chenot puts his hand on my lower back, leading me towards another man. He is tall and thin, reminding me of an undertaker in a cartoon or an old movie. “Miss Bellerose, this is our beloved Mayor Dufour… Mayor, the amazing Miss Bellerose”.

“A pleasure meeting you, miss,” the mayor says, shaking my hand heartily. “Thank you for what you did for our city.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, uncertain if I should curtsy or something. “I just did what most people would have done in my place.”

Mr Chenot laughs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Miss Bellerose, you, my girl, are a genuine hero… you deserve to be praised.”

Not knowing what to say, I let the two men lead us to the elevator that takes us up to the second level, where the reception is. As the box travels up, it feels like my stomach is on an elevator going down. I have this fear that someone will see right through me and call me out as a liar.

The elevator stops and the door slides open. Ortez Chenot steps out, throwing out his arms in true ringmaster style, announcing; “Ladies and gents, our hero Miss Anaïs Bellerose”.

People start clapping and I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I wonder if this is how animals in a zoo feel.

Then my eyes are drawn to a figure standing to the side in the shadows. Tall and wide, with windswept dark hair. His tuxedo is stylish and fits him perfectly, but somehow it makes me think of a feral animal locked in a cage that can break at any moment.

“It’s him,” I gasp in a low voice, grabbing Mathis’ arm, hoping that only he will hear me.

“It is who?” He asks, his eyes following mine. “Damn, it is”.

For a second I wonder how Mathis can know that this is Griff. My savior. “You know him?”

“Of course.” Again that tone, like I am a dumb child. “Everyone knows Constantine, Marquis de Anjou. I am more surprised you know him.”