Four:Done Running
1109 Words
Thump-thump... Thump-thump...
Cleopatra could hear her heart beating loudly. It felt like it would jump out of her chest. Meanwhile, Gideon looked normal, staring at Clark as he spoke.
"The language in Section 4 is... precise," Gideon remarked, his voice a smooth, low velvet that made Cleopatra’s stomach flip. "Extremely thorough regarding the transfer of assets. Tell me, Miss Allen, did you draft the clauses regarding permanent severance yourself?"
Cleopatra swallowed hard, her throat feeling as though it were filled with glass. "I... I assisted with the phrasing, sir."
"It shows," Gideon murmured, his dark eyes flicking to hers for a fraction of a second. "It reads like someone who knows exactly how to make a clean break."
Clark chuckled, completely oblivious to the war happening under the table. "She’s got a gift for it, Gideon. We’ve managed to secure the Valemont distribution rights and the offshore holdings in one sweep. It’s a win-win."
"Is it?" Gideon leaned forward, the movement bringing him closer to Cleopatra. The scent of his expensive cologne, sandalwood and something cold, invaded her senses, dragging her back to that night six years ago. "I find that in most 'sweeps,' someone usually ends up losing more than they anticipated."
For the next forty minutes, Cleopatra was forced to endure a slow, calculated torture. Gideon went through the contract line by line, his voice professional yet laced with double meanings that only she could hear. He questioned the liability of past mistakes and the interest accrued on debts that had never been settled.
Every time she tried to shift her foot, he pinned it harder, his leg a solid, unyielding pillar against hers. By the time Clark reached for his pen to finalize the notes, Cleopatra was drenched in a cold sweat.
"Well, I believe that covers the essentials," Clark said, closing his leather notebook with a satisfied thud. "I’ll have the revised drafts sent to your office by morning, Gideon. It’s been a pleasure."
"The pleasure is mine, Clark," Gideon replied, finally retracting his leg. The sudden loss of pressure made Cleopatra feel like she was floating, lightheaded and dizzy.
Clark stood up, stretching slightly. "I should get Cleo home; she looks like she's about to pass out on me. I'll drive..."
"No!" Cleopatra blurted out, standing so quickly her chair let out a sharp, painful screech against the floor. "No, Clark. I... I have some errands to run. I’ll take a cab. Really, it’s fine."
She didn't wait for his response. She scrambled to gather her folders, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"If you’ll excuse me," she whispered, not daring to look at Gideon.
She turned and practically bolted for the door. The moment she hit the hallway, she didn't stop. She ran toward the elevator, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Once outside the club, the cool night air hit her, but the panic only intensified.
She fumbled for her phone, her fingers shaking so violently she almost dropped it. She dialed Dana’s number, her eyes darting to every black car parked along the curb.
"Hello? Cleo?"
"Dana, do me a favor," Cleopatra gasped, her voice cracking. "Go to my house right now and take my children to stay with you. Don't let them stay there a second longer."
"Huh? Why? What happened?"
"It’s Gideon," she hissed, her voice trembling with a terror she couldn't hide.
"Gideon? You mean... Senior?"
"Yes!" Cleo hissed. "He’s in Valemont. He’s the client, Dana. He’s right here."
"Oh my goodness, this isn't good, Cleo," Dana’s voice rose in panic. "With him knowing you're here, he’s going to track you down again. What are you going to do?"
"Just take the children! I am going to the central terminal to lose him in the crowd. I’ll swap my SIM card and call you from a burner. Don't wait for me, just hide them!"
As soon as she finished, a cab drove in her direction. She waved at it and threw herself into the back seat before it had even fully stopped.
"Drive! Just go! Fast!" she shouted at the driver.
The cab pulled away, tires chirping, but they hadn't even made it to the end of the block when a sleek black sedan roared past them, swerving with violent precision to block the entire road.
The cab driver slammed on the brakes, the seatbelt locking painfully across Cleopatra's chest.
"What the hell is wrong with this rich bastard?" the driver yelled, leaning on his horn.
The back door of the sedan swung open, and Gideon stepped out. Even in the dim streetlights, his presence was overwhelming. Cleopatra’s face went pale.
"Driver, reverse! Please!" she choked out.
The driver was confused, but seeing the pure terror on her face, he slammed the car into reverse. He didn't get far. A loud crunch of metal hitting metal echoed through the street.
"We've been blocked from behind too!" the driver groaned.
Gideon strolled over, his long legs eating up the distance.
"Lock the car!" Cleopatra screamed, quickly bolting her side door as Gideon reached the window.
The driver turned to her, his face hard. "Miss, I don't know what problem you have with this man, but do not involve me in it. You should get down."
"Please help me, I beg you!" She shook her head, her eyes wide and wet with tears.
"Cleopatra," his voice boomed through the glass, jolting her soul. "Get down. Now. Unless you want me to dismantle this car with you inside it."
Cleopatra sat frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn't dare move. Seeing that she wasn't coming out, Gideon turned back toward his own car.
"Get me my bat," he commanded coldly.
The driver’s eyes went wide. "Miss, get down! Please! This car is the only thing I do to feed my family!"
Cleopatra looked at the driver’s terrified face, then at the man approaching with a heavy wooden bat. She knew Gideon wasn't bluffing. With a sob of defeat, she clicked the lock and stepped out into the cold air, her entire body trembling.
Gideon stared at her, a dark, dangerous smirk playing on his lips. Without a word, he lunged forward and lifted her off the ground.
"Let me down! Let me go!" she shrieked, struggling in his grip, but it was like fighting a stone wall.
He carried her to his car and threw her inside. He slid in after her, the door slamming shut with a finality that made her blood run cold. Before she could move, his hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"Done running, aren't you?"
- Writer
