Chapter 10 – Selene’s Opening Move
873 Words
It began with a single white envelope.
No stamp. No return address. Just Clara’s name, written in precise, looping handwriting, waiting on her apartment doorstep at six in the morning.
She found it when she went out for coffee, her hair still tangled from sleep. The paper was thick, expensive, the kind that didn’t belong anywhere near her modest hallway.
Inside, there was only a photograph.
It was of her.
Taken from a distance. Last night. She was standing outside Adrian’s SUV, her hand brushing his as they said goodnight.
On the back, in the same elegant handwriting, was a single line:
“Pretty pieces get broken first.”
The chill that went through her had nothing to do with the early hour.
She checked the hallway, but there was no one. Just the quiet hum of her building’s old lights and the faint smell of someone’s burnt toast.
Her first instinct was to call Adrian. Her second was to burn the photo and pretend she’d never seen it.
She chose the first.
He answered on the second ring. “Clara? It’s early.”
“Someone was here.”
The shift in his tone was instant. “Where?”
“My apartment. I found a letter no, a photo. Of me. From last night.”
“Stay where you are,” he said. “I’ll be there in ten.”
True to his word, Adrian arrived in eight, in a car that wasn’t his usual SUV. His eyes went cold when she handed him the envelope.
“Selene,” he said, almost to himself. “She’s making it personal already.”
“What does this mean?” Clara asked.
“That she’s been watching you. And that she wants you to know it.”
“Why me?”
“Because she wants to see how far she can push before I break.”
The way he said it made Clara’s stomach knot, not because of fear for herself, but because she realized just how much she’d become part of his war.
Adrian’s phone buzzed, and for a moment, she thought he might ignore it. But when he saw the caller ID, his jaw tightened.
“It’s her,” he said, then answered without hesitation. “Vargo.”
Her voice, even over the speaker, was strange. Smooth, melodic, the kind of tone that could sound like an invitation or a threat, depending on the words.
“Adrian,” Selene said, as if they were old friends catching up. “I see you’ve acquired a new weakness.”
“You made a mistake coming near her,” he said.
“Oh, I think we both know I don’t make mistakes,” Selene replied. “I’m just wondering how long it will take before she realizes what you are. Before she sees that the only difference between you and me is who’s holding the knife.”
Clara met Adrian’s gaze, trying to read the flicker in his eyes, but Selene kept talking.
“I’ll give you a chance, Adrian. Three days. Step out of the deal, walk away, and I’ll leave your little… souvenir untouched. Stay in, and I’ll start breaking things. Starting with her.”
The line went dead.
The silence after was deafening.
Adrian tossed the phone onto the counter, then leaned both hands against it, his head bowed like a man deciding whether to fight a hurricane or let it take him.
“She doesn’t bluff,” he said finally. “If she says three days, she means less than two.”
“So what now?” Clara asked.
His eyes lifted to hers, and for a moment she saw something she hadn’t expected not just resolve, but the tiniest flicker of fear.
“Now,” he said, “we get you out of the city.”
But leaving wasn’t so simple. By the time Adrian arranged transport, the game had already shifted.
It was on the news that afternoon, a scandal involving one of Adrian’s subsidiary companies, leaked documents, and anonymous whistleblowers. Nothing proven yet, but enough to start bleeding his stock value.
Clara watched the footage from his penthouse, the city glittering beyond the glass while the TV’s glow cast shadows across Adrian’s face.
“She’s not just coming after me,” he said. “She’s coming after the empire. Fast.”
That was when the intercom buzzed.
Adrian froze. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
The screen showed the doorman looking uneasy. “Sir, there’s a woman here asking for you. Says her name is Selene Vargo.”
Clara’s breath caught.
Adrian’s lips curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Of course she is.”
Against every warning bell in Clara’s mind, Adrian told the doorman to let her up.
The elevator doors opened three minutes later, and Selene Vargo stepped into the penthouse as if she owned it.
She was tall, striking, her dark hair in a sharp bob that made her cheekbones look like carved stone. Her dress was the kind of black that absorbed light, and her smile was slow, deliberate, a blade unsheathed.
“Adrian,” she said, her gaze flicking briefly to Clara, “and Clara, was it? Lovely to finally meet.”
- Writer
