Sorrow | 18+

12 He knew

A song to listen to: Aimer à mort by Louane

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Vivienne

My head was hurting as everything was fuzzy, unclear. There was a weird taste on my tongue and my throat was so dry that swallowing hurted a little. I badly needed water. I blinked my eyelids to adjust my sight, to get to see where I was. I had no idea. The room was empty and small, white walls and a concrete floor. The light bulb on the low ceiling was too bright for my eyes. I was sitting on a wooden chair, but I wasn't tied up. What the fuck.

I tried to remember. Nothing special had happened, or well I had slept in my own bed for once after work. I was on my way to the store before everything went black. Why the hell was I in this weird room? My heart beat was rising, making it difficult to think. Possibilities were limitless but I couldn't even start to sort them out to determine which would be most plausible.

I touched my hair, it was a mess. My scrunchie had fallen off and I noticed it on the floor. It had little strawberries to match my pink summer dress, which luckily was properly intact on me, just a few dark stains on the hem. There were muddy shoe prints on the concrete floor from where I picked my scrunchie up before pocketing it.

I comped through my hair with my fingers, pondering the next move. The metallic door screamed for me, but I had no idea what could be behind it. I needed to calm down first. I almost got lost in thought, but the door busted open all of a sudden. My spine straightened, my limps tightened and I let my hands fall to my lap. Breath, remain calm. A man in a black suit, that looked a size too small, came in. A buzzcut emphasised his round face that was slightly tanned. The look from his brown eyes gave me goosebumps. Something familiar started to tick at my brain, but I couldn't locate it.

"So you are the girl that has catched Liu's eye?" the man asked, taking a good look at me, like undressing me with his eyes. I felt uncomfortable, naked. It didn't matter how much I had trained myself during the last year as behind this man could be dozens of others. They knew that there wasn't a reason to tie me up, I couldn't run or fight my way out. I was vulnerable, alone here. Only relief of the situation was that this was Zero's issue I had tangled in, not related to me directly.

The man had polished brown leather shoes which took steps closer to me. I was avoiding eye contact, anything that could provoke him. He would underestimate me and maybe not hurt me. However, his hands grabbed my face to move it around, assessing me from every angle. I kept my eyes almost closed, but then he made me look at him.

"Pretty little whore, no wonder he fucks you", he suddenly said in Frech. I flinched. His interest clearly peaked and I wanted to scream as I couldn't contain my reflex. His features sharpened in my thoughts, his words sounded too similar. Merde. I knew him. Robert Laurent. I had met him only once briefly and he called me a whore then too. He was the head of the strongest branch of the Laurent family. Originally there were four brothers joining their powers and founding one big crime family. Now the next generation, the cousins, were in charge and of course it was just my lucky chance to run into one of them.

"A whore who understands French, your price just rocketed", a wicked grin formed on his lips. His fingers sunk on my skin, making marks I didn't want to have. I wanted his hand off me, but I stayed still. As emotionless as I could. "I said they were rushing when taking you in. There could have been many better ways to use you."

His eyes got a hungry gaze over me. I was an object for him. Something to use and discard. Not a new feeling I was experiencing, but still to be in this situation again didn't go along with my no-provoking plan. I knew who he was, what his whole family was. There were only two kinds of women in his world: wifes and whores. His own wife had died because of childbirth and the rumour was that he had known that it could be fatal for his wife. A too young wife who had birthed healthy twin sons, an heir and a spare, and so she served her purpose. His second wife was even younger, just an arm candy who didn't have to risk her body and health. However, the rumour around the second wife was filled with drugs and alcohol, whispers of him getting her hooked up, to keep her in line. So no, I did not want his fingers anywhere near me. An instinct took over me and I slapped them away.