Chapter 4: I know what you're doing
969 Words
“I know what Brittany told you to do!” Roman shouts at me.
My mouth feels dry, and I can barely come up with what to say.
For a second, everything around me seems to fade, and all I can hear is the echo of his words ringing in my ears.
Suddenly, the image of me behind bars flashes through my mind. My license would get revoked without question, especially now that I was already being monitored by the board. Everything I had worked for would crumble in an instant.
He leans in even closer, his angry breath hitting my face, heavy and suffocating.
I can’t move.
I can’t think.
Just then, the door opens and Jude strides in.
He pauses for a fraction of a second, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the scene before him. Roman standing too close to me. My back pressed against the wall. The tension thick enough to cut through.
He raises an eyebrow, the only expression of surprise the aloof man is probably capable of showing.
“Roman? What is going on here?”
Roman springs away from me as though nothing had happened and responds immediately.
“Oh I’ll tell you what’s going on here!”
My heart begins to beat rapidly, each thud louder than the last.
This is it.
I’ve been found out.
Brittany would walk away from this without a scratch, just like she always would. Meanwhile, I would be left to deal with the consequences.
If not killed by Jude.
Roman continues, his voice filled with accusation.
“The supposed therapist your lovely wife hired isn’t a therapist at all!”
My body sways slightly, and I have to steady myself against the wall. I’m sure Jude notices. He notices everything.
“She’s a spy!”
I look up in surprise once Roman’s declaration sinks in.
What?
“A spy for the government?” Jude asks, his tone laced with sarcasm, though his face remains as composed as ever.
Roman does not pick up on it.
“Of course not, you i***t! She’s a spy for Brittany.”
He points a finger at me as though presenting evidence in a trial.
Jude chuckles. And I don’t know whether to feel scared or relieved, because the sound is dangerously low.
“Why would my wife need to spy on me, Roman?”
“Oh don’t act coy!” Roman runs a hand through his red hair in frustration, pacing slightly now. “What do you need a therapist for anyway? You are fine!”
There is something almost defensive in his tone.
At this point, I am certain Roman has no idea about the real task Brittany assigned to me, and that realization allows a small breath of relief to slip through me.
I straighten slightly, forcing myself to step away from the wall.
“No one is completely fine,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Visiting a therapist does good for a lot of people.”
Roman turns to glare at me, his expression darkening.
But I don’t stop.
“Especially someone like you. It could do you some good to talk out those anger issues.”
For a moment, it looks like he might actually lunge at me.
His jaw tightens, his hand curling slightly at his side.
“Why you..."
“Roman.”
Jude’s voice cuts through the tension cleanly.
He steps between us, his movement calm, but deliberate. His back is now to Roman, while his gaze settles on me.
There is something unreadable in his eyes.
“Just drop it. I have a session with my therapist.”
“But..."
“Roman.”
He repeats the name again.
Nothing more.
Yet the warning is clear.
Roman exhales sharply, muttering something under his breath before throwing me one last look filled with disdain.
Then he turns and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
The sound echoes through the room, leaving behind a heavy silence.
For a few seconds, neither of us speaks.
Then Jude breaks it.
“Dr Cecilia, from the look on your face, I can tell you just misunderstood something.”
My senses sharpen immediately.
I take a few careful steps away from him, creating distance.
“And what exactly is that?”
His gaze lingers on me, almost amused.
“You look relieved. As if you just successfully fooled me.”
My fingers curl slightly at my side.
“Well don’t be mistaken.” He continues. “Just as Roman said, I’m aware you’re a little spy for my wife.”
I almost laugh.
If not for the fact that the situation is far too serious for amusement.
A little spy?
I am practically an assassin.
“It seems you have trust issues, Mr Martinez,” I reply calmly. “I’ll add it to your file.”
That earns me a laugh.
A real one.
It catches me off guard.
For a brief moment, his entire expression softens, and I notice something I hadn’t before. He has a dimple.
The detail is so unexpected that I find myself staring. Jude notices my staring and just as quickly, the smile disappears, replaced by the familiar cool and distant expression.
“Let’s go for our session.”
“You seem eager today.”
I move toward my chair, intending to sit, but before I can, his hand closes around my elbow.
The contact is firm, stopping me in place.
“We’re not having it here.” He says.
I frown, glancing briefly around the room.
The entire space had been prepared for this exact purpose.
Then what is the point of all of this?
“Then where?”
He looks at me, a faint smirk forming on his lips.
“In my hotel.”
- Writer
