Death Certificate
1336 Words
MARLON
I stood in Alexander Sterling's bathroom for exactly ninety-seven seconds after E.R. Marshall walked out, staring at my reflection like it might provide answers I didn't have.
What the f*ck did you just do?
My hands were still shaking. I could still smell her, not the expensive perfume she'd been wearing, but something underneath it. Something that made my wolf pace and whine and scratch at the inside of my chest like it was trying to claw its way out.
But it couldn't be her. Aunika Duvall was soft where this woman was sharp, uncertain where E.R. Marshall was confident. Aunika had smelled like vanilla and rain and something uniquely hers that had driven me crazy for months before I'd been stupid enough to destroy it.
E.R. Marshall smelled like nothing. Like expensive perfume and designer clothes and absolutely nothing else.
And the scar.... it wasn’t there.
I dragged my hands through my hair, trying to piece together what had just happened. The scar from our first time together, a thin white line along her collarbone from when she'd cut herself on my coffee table edge. I'd kissed it every time we'd made love after that, traced it with my tongue until she'd shivered and arched beneath me.
It should have been there. It had to be there.
But E.R. Marshall's skin had been perfect. Unmarked. Nothing like the woman I'd had in my bed for a month before I'd destroyed everything at that f*****g gala.
A sharp knock on the door jolted me back to reality.
"Lance!" Alexander Sterling's voice carried through the wood, tight with barely controlled fury. "Get out here. Now."
Shit.
I straightened my tie, smoothed my hair back into something resembling order, and opened the door to find Alexander waiting in the hallway. His usually perfect composure was cracked around the edges, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"What the hell did you do to her?"
"I don't know what you're... "
"Don't." He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the rage burning in his eyes. "Ms. Marshall came out of that bathroom looking like very furious. So, I'll ask you again... what did you do to my woman?"
Your woman. The possessiveness in his voice made something dark and violent stir in my chest.
"I didn't do anything." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. "We had a brief conversation. That's all."
"A conversation." Alexander's laugh was sharp, humorless. "A conversation that required you to corner her in a bathroom?"
"I thought she was someone else." The truth slipped out before I could stop it, and Alexander's expression shifted from anger to something more dangerous.
"Someone else? What kind of someone else requires you to follow women into bathrooms at my party?" He moved closer to me.
I opened my mouth to explain, but Victoria's voice cut through the tension with her wide smile.
"Marlon, darling." She appeared at the end of the hallway, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. "There you are. I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."
Her gaze flicked between Alexander and me, cataloging the tension with the kind of calculating interest that made my skin crawl.
"What's going on here?" she asked, all innocence and venom.
"Your man here ...," Alexander said, his voice dripping with disgust, "decided to harass my guest."
"Harass?" Victoria's eyebrows rose delicately. "That's quite an accusation, Alexander. What exactly are you claiming Marlon did?"
"I didn't harass anyone." The words came out harsher than I'd intended. "I made a mistake. I thought Ms. Marshall was someone I used to know."
"And that mistake required you to follow her into a private bathroom?" Victoria's tone was light, conversational, but there was something predatory in her eyes that made my wolf snarl.
"It was a misunderstanding." I was digging myself deeper with every word, but I couldn't seem to stop. "She looked familiar, and I..."
"Familiar how?" Alexander stepped closer, his composure cracking further. "Because Ms. Marshall is new to New York. New to our social circle. So how exactly would she look familiar to you?"
I didn't have an answer for that. Couldn't explain that every instinct I possessed was screaming that E.R. Marshall was Aunika Duvall, even though the evidence said otherwise.
"I was wrong," I said finally. "I made a mistake, and I apologized for it."
"Did you?" Victoria's smile widened. "How... interesting."
There was something in her voice that made my blood run cold, but before I could analyze it, Alexander was speaking again.
"I want you gone." His voice was quiet and deadly. "Now. And if you come near E.R. again, we're going to have a problem."
I looked between them; Alexander with his barely controlled rage, Victoria with her calculating smile and realized I was outnumbered and outmaneuvered.
"Fine." I straightened my jacket, trying to salvage what was left of my dignity. "I was leaving anyway."
I walked away from them both, my skin crawling with the sensation of being watched. E.R. Marshall was nowhere to be seen when I reached the main room, probably already gone, probably never wanting to see me again.
Except I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just let something important slip through my fingers.
Again.
**
Three hours later, I was still staring at the ceiling of my penthouse bedroom, sleep as elusive as answers.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Not E.R. Marshall with her designer armor and cold professionalism, but Aunika. Aunika smiling sheepishly at something I'd said during one of our late-night strategy sessions. Aunika giving me access to her body even when she knew I was simply using her for pleasure.
Aunika bleeding on a ballroom floor because I'd been too much of a coward to claim what was mine.
I rolled over, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and dialed Kairo's number. He answered on the second ring, alert despite the
late hour.
"Mr. Lance? Is everything alright?"
"I need you to run a background check." The words came out faster than I'd intended. "Full deep dive. Everything you can find."
"On who?"
"Two people, actually." I sat up, running my free hand through my hair. "E.R. Marshall and Aunika Duvall."
There was deep silence on the other side of the line and then... "Sir, didn't we already establish that E.R. Marshall is—"
"I know what we established." I cut him off. "I want you to dig deeper. Medical records, financial transactions, travel history, everything. And cross-reference it with anything you can find on Aunika Duvall."
"Mr. Lance, with all due respect, Aunika Duvall disappeared two years ago. The trail went cold months ago."
"Then heat it up." I was pacing now, energy crackling through me like electricity. "I don't care what it costs or how long it takes. I need to know everything about both women."
"I'll get started first thing in the morning."
"No. Start now. Tonight."
Another pause. "Sir, can I ask why this is suddenly urgent?"
Because I'd just made an ass of myself in Alexander Sterling's bathroom over a woman who couldn't possibly be the one I'd lost. Because my wolf was convinced, I'd found my mate again, even though my mate had vanished into thin air two years ago. Because I was losing my f*****g mind.
"Just do it," I said instead.
"Of course. I'll call you as soon as I have something."
He hung up, and I was alone again with my thoughts and the growing certainty that I'd just encountered a ghost.
My phone rang four hours later, just as the first gray light of dawn was creeping through my windows. Kairo's name flashed on the screen.
"What did you find?"
"Mr. Lance..." His voice was strange, careful in a way that made my stomach drop. "You're going to want to sit down for this."
"Just tell me."
"Aunika Duvall is dead, sir. She has been for eighteen months. I have the death certificate right here."
- Writer
