The Wrong Man

Chapter 4

After the chef fixes my food, I eat it silently, patiently waiting for Aux to return from wherever he left to, but after an hour, I decide to return to my room after telling the chef thanks for the food.

Once I’m safely inside my room, I leave my door unlocked, still feeling self-conscious about angering someone by locking it, and dial Madison’s number as I approach the bed to lay on it.

She picks up on the fifth ring and yawns. “What’s up?”

“My new life is what’s up.” I sigh in resignation, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I’ll fit in here. I haven’t adjusted to everything yet and it already seems so ― so―”

“Extravagent? Expensive?”

“Both and it looks so different. In a good way, of course.”

“What about the guy?”

“He’s good-looking. No doubt about that.”

“How good-looking? Like a model or is he average?”

“Like a model.”

“I wish I had someone that good-looking.”

“It’s not like I have to deluge in anything besides for work purposes so it’ll be fine.”

Madison goes silent for a few seconds, most likely contemplating her response before she says in a low voice, “I may not know what you’re doing outside of school or have the slightest clue as to why you’re with this person, but if it makes things any better; be safe, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt. Again, at least.”

Madison doesn’t know the full truth about my family. All that she knows is that they’re odd in the world’s eyes and they’re strict. Everyone sees them, including me, as the perfect family with riches and a successful business that handles many responsibilities.

They don’t know the various mistreatments they inflicted on me over the course of the years. From my childhood, which was full of mental embedding with their ‘rules’, to my teenage years, that’s full of hardship and bruises. Inside and out.

They might have faded but the bruise that they afflicted in my heart remains like a stained glass window. Most people will see that the colors we let them see when looking at us ― or in a metaphorical sense, a stained glass window ― from inside a dark building are very beautiful. The colors we let the world see in the windows are caused by the way our eyes and brains perceive the tainted color. A lie so beautiful but without the light ― power, money, sly tactics ― there’s nothing to see except a plain and ordinary window — a plain family.

A group of people that has blood-stained hands and skeletons in the closet. Each and every one of us. And now that I have to share a life with someone I don’t even know; I have more lies to hide from Madison and the world. I want to scream for help and tell everyone that I’m not alright, but, for as long as I’ve lived, I’ve always kept my mouth shut. Not as a way to remain obedient but as a reflex.

I hide the truth from those that relish to view of perfect figures of the world and give them more and more of my broken soul. A soul that mind as well has been sold to the devil from how much I suffered to stay alive.

I never asked to be like this but I have to.

Because If I want to stay alive, I better listen, do as I’m told, and stay out of the way when I’m not needed.

Or, the bullet that I avoided for all of these years will penetrate my skull, impale my brain, and kill me instantly. And everyone that knows me will be informed of my tragic ‘suicide’ from a ‘d**g overdose’.

“Thanks,” I sigh, placing a hand on my head, “thanks a lot, Madison.”

“Yeah, no problem, Seraphine.”

***

My footsteps are faint and swift as the van drives off in the opposite direction towards the heavily secured gate to the building. The thick layer of dirt on the construction site helps silence the sound of my boot-clad feet hitting the ground before jumping up and grabbing the edge of the roof to parkour to the next level.

After being away from work for a few weeks to do photoshoots and other things for my marriage, I'm less stealthy than before, shuffling between fallen beams and destroyed cars to follow the white van. I try to toss a lit match in the engine pipe but quickly put the fire out when the van comes to a screeching stop in front of the gate.

While cursing under my breath, looking around for something to hide behind, and pursuing the nearby steel crates, I decided to risk everything to jump on top of the van. As I jump on top of the gate before it opens, holding my breath in anticipation of my fall as I balance myself on it to walk to the other side, I try to land as stealthily as possible before the gate opens. A man with a g*n on his hip steps out of the van and approaches the gate first. As soon as he does, I dangle off the wall.

"Whoever hired me should've specified who the f**k I'm supposed to kill," I mutter, listening to the sound of the beep as the gate slowly creaks open. "But I guess using a license works too," I grunt, hoisting myself on the gate once the van drives on the other side. "I wonder if blowing up a van is too obvious..."

I shrug at the idea and grab my g*n out of my hoister. And, as soon as I’m taking off the safety, my eyes pan to the twisted diamond ring that’s beautifully made from bright white gold and decorated with fourteen-carat diamonds.

It was expensive. More expensive than I thought a guy like Joshua would spend on me. But he grabbed my hand with a warm smile and took me to a park where he slid the ring on my finger himself. He took pictures of us and my hand before posting them on his social media, instructing me to post some on mine as well.

I didn’t know how to react or respond to everything so I did as he asked. I felt stiff and awkward trying to process the fact that I’m his wife now. Not from love but from a deal made between our families. And yet, I didn’t mind his hand on my shoulder and mine, pulling me to public places where others could see us.

For weeks we did that and every time he grabbed my hand, I felt lighter than before. A feeling so new, so unknown, but so comfortable. I liked it.

“f**k,” I put the bullets in the barrel, trying to shrug off the thoughts, “I can’t get distracted like this.”

When I finish, I close it and aim at the engine pipe with my finger on the trigger, ready to blow at any second. I press my lips together, telling myself to do it. To finish the job. But my head isn’t fully focused on this; it’s on the person I married just recently.

Joshua hasn't entered my mind before, but here I am, distracted by a thought of him that has me hesitating. For the first time in my entire life, I’m unable to focus on a task as simple as this.

But, the sound of an engine, rouses me out of thoughts briefly, giving me enough momentum to pull the trigger and send the bullet in the exhaust pipe, causing the entire van to suddenly blow up in flames. I lower my hand and loll my head back, feeling ashamed that a mere guy that I barely know almost distracted me from my job.

“What am I doing?” I ask myself, closing my eyes to bask in the morning sun. “This isn’t what my family taught me. I have to do better.” I look down to put the safety on and slip the g*n into the holster again. “It would be a pain if I got scolded because of this.”

I parkour down the gate and run away from the construction site, avoiding the sudden rush of vehicles that are driving toward the fire. I make my way to the car that’s waiting for me and climb in, pulling the car shut. I release a shaky breath and nod to the driver. “Home.” I mutter, leaning back against the seat. “Please.”

With a nod in response, the driver pulls away from the area and takes me back to the Michaels’ home. The drive takes over an hour before we make it back, pulling up at the gate where the driver inputs the code to get in. I sit up when we park in front of the mansion and get out, thanking the driver.

I enter the home quietly, making my way up to my room. It’s only then that I see Joshua leaning against the wall in the hallway, seemingly waiting for someone.

When his eyes meet mine and he approaches me, I instantly figure out that he was waiting for me.

Don’t tell me I did something wrong already? I thought I followed the rules accordingly?

“How was it?” Joshua asks.

“How was what? The extermination?” I ask, nearly stammering on my words when he stops in front of me, leaving a few inches of space between us.

“Unless you were out doing something else besides that?”

“No, I,” I wave my hands in front of me defensively, “I did my job. It went smoothly.”

“As expected.” Joshua says dryly. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Sure, I want to. Can I shower first?”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“Okay.”

I go around him and power walk to my room, shutting the door behind me. I feel a slight grin creep on my lips as I lean against it for a few seconds, wondering if it’s okay to feel jittery like this with him before gently pushing myself off the door to shower and get dressed in something nice.

And, as usual, I don’t fail to catch a glimpse of my measurements on the notepad on my desk. Per request. Forty-six inches on the waist, fifty-four inches on the bust, twenty inches on the sleeves, and fifty-three and a half on the hips. I sigh, looking down at the outfit in my hands. I mean… It’s not a bad measurement. To me, at least.

I walk over to my bed and sit on it. Or, is it?