Episode 5
1104 Words
A man stepped onto the gallery’s west balcony, the night air cool against the heat of the evening. He glanced over his shoulder—no one had followed—then pulled out a phone and dialed a number that rang only once.
A low voice answered.
He spoke quickly.
“It’s too risky to take another painting right now.”
A pause.
“Yes, the suspension helped… but it also drew attention.”
The voice on the other end murmured something steady, unbothered.
The man clenched his jaw.
“I told you—he’s watching everything now. If we push again, he’ll start tearing through records. And he’s not stupid. He’ll find the gaps.”
More quiet instructions.
The man swallowed.
“…Fine. I’ll keep the discrepancies small. But another extraction? Not yet. The timing has to be perfect.”
He hesitated, tone shifting darker.
“She was never meant to be more than a convenient scapegoat. But… the way they look at each other… we need to be careful.”
A sharp command came through the line.
He nodded.
“Understood.”
The call ended.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, straightened his expression, and plastered on his usual jolly smile before stepping inside.
Across the country, two men sat in the crowded corner of a London bar, both sharply dressed, but only one with eyes hardened by life.
“What do you want from me? Can’t a man get a drink in peace?”
“Not one who’s as popular as you,” the other man joked. When Asher didn’t laugh, he cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry about everything that happened. I’m here to make it up to you.”
“I needed help then… not now.”
Asher downed the rest of his beer in one gulp and stood. “I would say it’s nice seeing you again, John… but seven years in prison makes a person honest.”
“Damn, sit down for a second, man, this is important.”
John pushed himself up to block him from leaving. “Your daughter…”
Asher froze. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“There’s an operation going on that involves your daughter.”
“You’re kidding me.”
John gestured to the booth and waited until his companion reluctantly sat down. Then he pulled a manila envelope out of his briefcase.
Asher pulled a picture out. “What the hell? What do they plan to do with her?”
“I’m sorry about what happened years ago, that’s why I’m telling you this. I can’t tell you anything more.”
“John, please.”
“I really am sorry, mate.”
Elara hugged Marco fiercely. “Thank you so much for today’s adventure. I can’t believe I had so much fun.”
“A lot of sugar and roller coasters are the trick.”
Elara smiled up at him, grateful for someone who would put so much effort into her happiness—especially after the week she’d had. She didn’t snap out of her thoughts until Marco suddenly scooped her into his arms.
“MARCO MORETTI, put me down!” Torn between anger and deliriousness, she finally gave in to uncontrollable laughter.
“You had that depressed look coming back into your eyes again. Just let me do this for you.”
And so Elara relented, enjoying the princess treatment all the way up the elevator to her front door.
Her next-door neighbor, a trash bag in one hand, whistled softly. “At least some people are getting lucky.”
She giggled. “Hi, Marie.”
“Hii yourself,” Marie winked, her tone unmistakably cheeky.
Elara threw her arms around him and squeezed. “You’re the best.”
That’s how Vivienne found them when she opened her daughter’s front door.
“Ellie?”
“Maman?” Quick as lightning, she scrambled down to her feet.
“I was worried about you, but clearly you take after my side of the family—drowning yourself in gorgeous men.Mon Dieu, Monaco is good for your taste” Vivienne sent Marco a sultry, appreciative look designed to make men sweat. “Hello… Why don’t you come in?”
Elara couldn’t believe what she was hearing—was this some kind of cosmic joke?
“Come in? Noo… he has to go somewhere.”
She turned to Marco with a desperate look. “Right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
In an unexpectedly chivalrous mood, he took Vivienne’s hand and kissed it. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
She fluttered her lashes. “The pleasure’s mutual.”
Elara rolled her eyes. “Bye, Marco.”
And finally, they were alone. Mother and daughter faced each other, physically mirolls of each other, but emotionally as different as water and fire.
“Bébé.” Vivienne pulled her into a hug, and the door closed behind them.
“You called her? I specifically said do NOT call Maman!” Elara fumed.
Incredibly irresistible with wet hair and shirtless, Theo plucked a grape from the bunch and popped it into his mouth.
“You need support right now, ma sœur. I know Mom can be a bit dramatic…”
She laughed. “A bit? Understatement of the century. Theo, she threatened TMZ with a billion-dollar defamation suit for publishing a story about me!”
“Because she cares.”
He wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin gently on her head. “How are you?”
Elara felt her eyes sting at the simple question.
“I have no idea.” She took another grape. “I’m trying to take it one day at a time.”
Theo’s face fell “You shouldn’t have to go through so much Ellie”
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.”
“Like that?” she chuckled. “You’ll send my neighbor into a panic attack with abs like that.”
She led the way to the door, Theo’s arm slung around her shoulders. Forgetting to check the peephole, she swung the door open—and they both froze.
She struggled to find her voice. “Maman?”
“Oui?”
“Viens ici… maintenant.”
“I just got out of the shower and I hear you shouting my name. What’s going on?”
She was ready to launch a tirade about rushing out in a bathrobe when she finally saw the man standing at the door.
Vivienne took a slow breath, exhaled—
“Asher.”
Asher’s eyes lifted,landing on Elara -and the world seemed to stop between them.
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