My muse, my damnation

THREE

Dmitri Saint Clair

I watch her step out of the cabin. It is worth swapping my first class tickets for something as cheaper as business class. I have a property here at Ibiza so I just needed a ride. I wanted to keep a low profile if I want to follow her and not attract attention.

The most recent photo of Alexander Heist’s would be wife on i********: had popped up on the recent page. Photos of her and her friends and most of those photos had a particular red hair. One of the photos was just her in it and she posed the exact same way as the model did in the painting I recently purchased. It could be mere coincidence but I wanted to know for sure. The artist who sold me the painting claimed he didn’t know who exactly sold it to him. It was some brunette girl, he said.

I knew I had to follow her to be sure. So far she is intriguing and amusing. She strikes me as someone ambitious and goal-oriented judging from the look of horror when things didn’t go as planned. Actually she kept mumbling it and was restless throughout the flight. But I guess there is more that meets the eye when it comes to her.

I sipped my red wine while I watched the movers move my stuff to my room, all wearing gloves. I despise dust. I watch the housekeepers carry their feather brush and vacuums ready to rid of any dust in my penthouse. I watch the scenery before me, the memories from few hours from now seeping in. “Edwin,” I call out, the butler stepping in at the sound of his name. “Get me a headphone, will you?” I wanted to try out what she was listening to. I believe its pink noise. What is it that she finds fascinating in hearing those sounds?

After moments of just listening to the almost sound of falling raindrops, I became fascinated and interested, curious even. Who was she? I already know where she will be but I have to exercise patience and wait till the wedding. I was still putting on the pants she ruined but I couldn’t bring myself to take it off just yet. I wanted to be dirty for the first time provided that she caused it.

I stared at my reflection in the window, my perfect posture, blank expression and for the first time I didn’t recognise the man looking back. I don’t usually develop interest for the opposite s*x; they are only a means to an end. But I find myself wondering what else she likes, what kind of music she listened to. I find myself going through my burner phone I basically use for social media and browsing Alexander Heist’s wedding photos. Luckily, her best friend tagged her so I was able to gain access to her posts and pictures. There was nothing much to see, just pictures of her and a small circle of friends. Her smiling and at the beach looking free and happy marvelled me at tugged at places I didn’t know existed yet.

Evangeline Pierce. I said her name like a prayer. I wanted to know her better. And take those smiles and make it mine. “Edwin,” I call out. Edwin who was in the room with me steps forward. “Find out all you can get about Evangeline Pierce and I mean everything. Little details should not be removed at all.”

It was safe to say I wanted to know from the horse’s mouth first but I want to be prepared when meeting with her again and this time have something to draw her in.