Chapter 4. {The Devil Wears Black}
1115 Words
The rain had stopped before dawn.
But the fear it left behind still lingered.
Melissa barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the woman in the lavender dress standing beneath the oak tree.
Then the words carved into the bark.
YOU CAN’T HIDE THE TRUTH.
Jason’s frightened expression haunted her even more.
Her father had lied.
She was sure of it.
The only question was…
Why?
……….
The next morning, the Anderson house was unusually quiet.
Jason sat at the dining table with a newspaper spread open before him.
He wasn’t reading it.
His untouched coffee had long gone cold.
Melissa watched him from the kitchen doorway.
“You didn’t sleep.”
Jason looked up quickly, forcing a smile.
“I could say the same about you.”
She sat opposite him.
For a while, neither spoke.
Finally, Melissa broke the silence.
“Dad…”
“Hm?”
“Do you believe people can keep secrets for years?”
Jason’s fingers tightened around his coffee mug.
“I suppose they can.”
“What if that secret hurts someone?”
His jaw clenched.
“Then eventually…”
He said quietly,
“…the truth catches up.”
Melissa searched his face.
For just a second…
She thought she saw tears in his eyes.
Before she could ask another question, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed instantly.
“I have to take this.”
He hurried outside.
Melissa watched him through the window.
His shoulders were tense.
His lips barely moved.
Whoever he was speaking to…
It wasn’t a normal conversation.
………
“I need some fresh air.”
Melissa grabbed her hoodie and left the house.
The cool morning breeze brushed against her skin as she walked through the busy streets.
People laughed.
Cars honked.
Vendors shouted.
The world had moved on.
Only she seemed trapped in yesterday.
She stopped outside a small flower shop.
Lavender.
Her mother’s favorite.
She bought a small bouquet and continued toward the cemetery.
Halfway there…
Traffic came to an abrupt halt.
People stepped onto the sidewalks.
Some whispered.
Others quickly lowered their heads.
Melissa frowned.
“What’s going on?”
A newspaper vendor muttered under his breath.
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
The man immediately looked around nervously before lowering his voice.
“Don’t say his name too loudly.”
Melissa’s curiosity grew.
Before she could ask another question…
A convoy of matte-black SUVs rolled slowly down the street.
Not luxurious.
Intimidating.
Every vehicle had heavily tinted windows.
No license plates.
Pedestrians instinctively moved aside.
A little boy accidentally kicked his football into the road.
His mother gasped.
“Oh, God…”
She ran forward, but it was too late.
The ball rolled directly in front of the lead SUV.
The convoy stopped.
The street fell deathly silent.
One of the rear doors opened.
A man stepped out.
He was tall.
Well over six feet.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.
Black gloves covered his hands.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
The kind of calm that belonged to someone who had seen death too many times.
The bodyguards surrounding him lowered their heads respectfully.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Melissa had never seen him before.
Yet something about him made her heart pound.
The little boy stood frozen in the middle of the road, too frightened to move.
The man looked at him.
Then at the football.
For several agonizing seconds…
No one breathed.
Slowly, the man bent down.
Picked up the ball.
Walked toward the child.
Melissa held her breath.
He placed the ball into the boy’s trembling hands.
“Don’t run into the road again.”
His voice was low.
Controlled.
Not unkind.
The little boy nodded so hard tears spilled down his cheeks.
“Y-Yes, sir.”
The man turned to leave.
One of his bodyguards leaned closer.
“Boss…”
“We’re already five minutes behind schedule.”
He didn’t answer.
As he reached for the SUV door…
His gaze shifted.
Straight toward Melissa.
Time seemed to stop.
Those eyes…
They were cold.
Not empty.
Just… unreadable.
Melissa couldn’t look away.
For one brief moment…
Neither of them moved.
Then his eyes dropped to the lavender flowers in her hands.
Something flickered across his face.
Gone so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it.
Without another word, he entered the vehicle.
The convoy disappeared into the morning traffic.
Only after they were gone did the people around her begin breathing again.
“Who was that?”
Melissa asked quietly.
The newspaper vendor looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head.
He leaned in.
His voice barely above a whisper.
“That…”
“…was Zikel Moretti.”
“The King of the Obsidian Circle.”
Melissa frowned.
“The Obsidian Circle?”
“You must not be from around here.”
The old man swallowed nervously.
“They own businesses.”
“They own politicians.”
“They own the police.”
“They own fear.”
Melissa laughed awkwardly.
“You’re exaggerating.”
The vendor’s smile disappeared.
“No.”
He glanced around before whispering,
“They say if Zikel decides someone should disappear…”
“…the body is never found.”
A cold shiver crawled down Melissa’s spine.
She looked down the road where the convoy had vanished.
She didn’t know why…
But she had a strange feeling.
This wouldn’t be the last time she saw the man in black.
………
Elsewhere…
Inside the moving SUV…
One of Zikel’s men broke the silence.
“Boss?”
“What is it?”
“You’ve been looking out the window ever since we left.”
Zikel didn’t answer immediately.
Instead…
He recalled the girl holding lavender flowers.
Sad eyes.
No fear.
Most people looked away when they saw him.
She hadn’t.
Finally, he spoke.
“Find out who she is.”
The bodyguard nodded once.
“Yes, Boss.”
Zikel closed his eyes.
He had no idea why he gave that order.
But somewhere deep inside…
Something about that girl felt…
Familiar.
………..
As the convoy disappeared, Melissa looked down and realized something strange.
Tucked between the lavender flowers in her hand was a small black card.
She was certain it hadn’t been there before.
There were no words on the front.
Only a silver emblem.
A circle of obsidian wrapped around a raven’s wing.
She turned it over.
Five handwritten words stared back at her.
“STOP LOOKING FOR THE TRUTH”
Melissa’s blood ran cold.
Someone had gotten close enough to slip the card into her bouquet…
Without her ever noticing.
- Writer
