Chapter 7:Miss Me?
1100 Words
The front door clicked shut behind her, and no one moved for a second.
Kiara dropped her duffel by the wall like she owned the place. Snow clung to the hem of her winter coat, melting onto the marble floor, her short jet-black hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends, framing her face like a halo of controlled chaos.
She looked like someone who hadn't gone a day and exactly like someone who didn't care if she had.
Her eyes scanned the room, lingering on Selene first, then landing on Maxwell.
A slow, familiar smirk tugged at her mouth.
“I see someone's been keeping my side of the bed warm.”
Selene didn't react. But her expression turned sharp, guarded. She didn't reply, she just tilted her head, assessing Kiara like a new piece on a board.
Maxwell stood where he was, still as a stone. But his eyes softened. Just for a moment. Just for her.
“It hasn't been warm since you left,” he said quietly.
That cracked something in the air.
Kiara blinked once, the smirk faltering, not disappearing, but dimming. Her posture didn't shift, but her expression caught, it was subtle and personal.
Selene's arms crossed slowly.
“She's not just here to help,” she said. “Is she?”
Maxwell didn't turn to her. “She's here because I asked her to be.”
Selene scoffed under her breath.“Of course you did.’
Kiara raised her brow, lips twitching with dry amusement.
“Still charming I see,” she murmured.
Then to Maxwell, “separate rooms now?”
He didn't answer right away. Just looked at her like she hadn't walked away at all. Like he remembered the exact weight of silence the night she did.
“Camille will show you where you'll be staying,” he said finally.
Kiara nodded once. Just one last glance at him before she turned to follow Camille up the stairs.
And as she walked away, the scent of cold air and danger lingered like she never really left.
The next morning,
Selene stepped into a private dining room of the Marlowe Hotel just after ten. She wore pale gray slacks and a matching coat.
Vincent was already seated.
He didn't acknowledge her right away. He was reading the day’s paper, one leg crossed neatly over the other.
When she sat down, he folded the paper and set it aside.
“ I expected you sooner,” he said.
“I came as soon as I could.”
He didn't comment, he just studied her face.
She didn't look tired, but she was. She had barely shut her eyes. Her makeup was minimal, her voice calm, her posture textbook perfect. She knew what part of herself he wanted to see.
“What is going on in that house?” he asked.
Selene smoothed her napkin across her lap.” Kiara showed up last night.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“She's not subtle,” Selene added. “And I don't know why Maxwell brought her in.”
“You're not supposed to,” he said flatly.
Her throat tightened. “I didn't expect it.”
Vincent leaned back into his chair, tapping the table once.
“Then maybe you're not paying enough attention.”
The sting of that sat somewhere under her ribs. But still she nodded.
“She is loud and comfortable. There's history between them.”
“And you feel replaced?” he asked.
Selene looked up, finally meeting his gaze. “No, I feel outnumbered.”
“You were never meant to get comfortable,” he said.
“You're there to do a job. Not to blend in.”
She bristled, but her voice stayed level. “I'm aware.”
He studied her for a few seconds longer, then slid a small leather folder across the table. Selene opened it carefully. Inside, there wasn't a document.
Just a small velvet jewelry box.
She paused, then opened it.
Inside lay a delicate gold bracelet. Old, thin, worn.
The kind children wore. She knew it the moment she saw it.
Her childhood bracelet.
The one she lost the day she ran.
Her stomach tightened.
There were faint scratches on it. Her initials were still etched inside: E
She hasn't seen it in over a decade.
She snapped the box shut, gently, before her face could shift.
“He’s watching everything,” she said. “Maxwell doesn't miss much.”
Vincent leaned back. “So you're scared?”
She exhaled carefully. “I'm cautious.”
“That's not the same, I'm not hesitating”
He didn't reply immediately. He just reached for his cup again.
Then, with a faint shrug, he said, “You're close. I can feel it. Don't forget who gave you that name. And don't think I won't take it back.”
Selene didn't flinch.but her fingers dug into her coat beneath the table.
He stood up. Adjusted his cuff links.
“You’ve done well,” he added. “But don't start thinking that makes you irreplaceable.”
Then he walked out, leaving the leather folder between them.
She didn't look at it again.
The message had already been received.
Loud and clear.
Selene stayed seated long after Vincent had gone.
By the time she stepped into the hallway, it was already noon. Snow had begun to fall again. She wrapped her arms around herself and made her way down the corridor toward the elevator. Her heels clicking against the marble floors.
She hated the silence. She hated how the world felt muted after every conversation with Vincent.
Halfway towards the exit of the hotel she paused.
A chill tickled the back of her neck.
She turned, but the hall was empty.
The air felt really wrong.
She shook it off, stepped forward again. Then she froze.
She spun around.
Nothing.
Just her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
Selene started walking faster this time.
The exit was just at the end of the hall.
She picked up pace, making her way out of the hotel.
And stopped.
A single white rose was tucked into the handle of the black car waiting for her. It hadn't been there before.
Pinned beneath it. A playing card.
The Queen of Hearts.
Her fingers shook as she reached for it. On the back scrawled with red ink:
“Miss me?”
Her pulse thundered.
She turned around.
But there was no one there again.
Then, a soft laugh echoed, feminine and haunting.
Selene's grip on the card tightened.
She wasn't alone anymore.
- Writer
