Affair, present day
609 Words
Chapter One – Velvet and Vices
Afair, Present Day
Afair didn't welcome strangers. It studied them. It sized them up. And if it didn’t like what it saw, it swallowed them whole.
Elara Quinn stepped off the rusted bus into air that tasted like rain and secrets. The town was cloaked in dusk even though it was only five in the evening. Clouds hung low over the craggy hills, and a sharp chill nipped at her bare arms. She pulled her jacket tighter, her fingers trembling—not just from the cold.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not really. She had picked Afair on a whim, a dot on a map with cheap rent and no connections to her past. The perfect place to disappear. The perfect place to start over.
But from the moment she stepped off the bus, it felt like Afair had been expecting her.
The old streets twisted like veins, lined with decaying brick buildings and overgrown ivy. Shops stood abandoned, their windows fogged over, and the few people she saw moved quickly, heads down, like they didn’t want to be seen. Elara had grown up in a city that never slept. Here, even the shadows seemed afraid to move.
She was halfway to her rented flat when she saw him.
A black car—sleek, vintage, purring like a predator—was parked across the narrow street. The man leaning against it looked like he’d stepped out of a dream… or a nightmare. Black tailored coat, boots polished to a shine, a silver ring glinting on his index finger as he lit a cigarette. Smoke curled around his jaw like it belonged to him.
Their eyes met.
Elara couldn’t breathe.
His gaze was molten—dark, intense, piercing through her like he already knew her name, her story, her sins. A strange sensation rushed over her—heat, dread, longing. All at once.
And then—
A scream tore through the air.
Violent. Panicked. Human.
A man stumbled into the street, blood pouring from a gash across his stomach. “Help me!” he choked out, eyes wide with terror.
Two masked men followed, dressed in black, moving with brutal precision. One raised a gun.
“Get down!” someone shouted.
Bang!
The world exploded.
Elara hit the ground. Her suitcase rolled into the gutter, but she didn’t care. Her ears rang, her heart slammed against her ribs like it wanted out. She tasted iron.
Another gunshot. Tires screeched. Someone yelled in Italian.
Then—silence.
She lifted her head slowly. The bloody man was crumpled on the ground, unmoving. The masked men were gone. So was the car. So was he.
Lucien.
She didn’t know his name. But somehow, she did.
A lone cigarette still burned on the cobblestone.
She staggered to her feet, her knees scraped, her pulse still racing. People peeked from behind curtains, but no one came out. No one screamed. No one helped.
It was as if violence was normal here. As if this town had seen far worse.
And maybe it had.
Elara retrieved her suitcase, her hands trembling. She took a shaky breath, staring down the alley the masked men had vanished into. She should turn back. She should leave.
But instead, she whispered, “Who the hell are you?”
From the rooftop above, unseen eyes watched her. A figure moved back into the shadows, speaking softly into a phone.
“She’s arrived,” the voice said. “Just like he said she would.”
Down below, Elara continued walking—unknowing, but already marked.
Afair had claimed her.
And the game had already begun.
- Writer
