HIS FEELINGS
1283 Words
Cecelia’s POV
Days later, the weird feeling in my body had subsided. Or rather, my senses had grown accustomed to the new changes I felt.
Marcus had seemed like he understood what I was going through, without me even having to make him understand.
Instead of explaining it to me, he’d helped me through it over the past few days like it was totally normal. Even though he still refused to speak more about it. As if he was afraid of the truth of it.
To distract me from everything, Marcus decided we should go out one evening. I found the idea thrilling because it was the first time we would be going out on a date since I’d thrown myself in front of his door.
Marcus chose the spot. And the cozy place had a casino. The casino was alive and laughter echoed across the lively place.
For a moment, the place seemed too rowdy for me, and I wondered for a second why he chose to bring me here.
I told myself though that it had to do with something relating to work… about showing his rivals, friends and enemies how completely in charge he was.
Now, I could hear everything. Every whisper. Every lie and every shift in tone that didn’t match a smile.
Marcus walked beside me like he owned the place… and maybe he did, in ways I didn’t fully understand yet.
His presence alone parted the crowd without effort, people stepping aside instinctively for us, like prey sensing a predator approaching.
“You’re tense,” he said quietly, not looking at me.
I forced my shoulders to relax. “I’m fine.”
A lie, which I realized he knew. But he didn’t call me out on it. Although I felt his attention sharpen.
We stopped near one of the poker tables. The atmosphere seemed to be thicker here, the table reeking of money, power and danger, all blending into something intoxicating.
But I barely paid any attention to it. Something else had already caught my attention…
A voice. Brutally familiar. Way too familiar for me not to recognize it. I turned towards the table, Marcus’ attention fixed on someone else.
“…I told you, I don’t lose twice,” the man laughed, his tone thick with arrogance and filled with alcohol.
My body went cold immediately.
“No way.” I told myself, desperate not to believe it.
But he was sitting right there at the head of the table… my stepfather who was supposed to be dead.
The world didn’t just stop for me when I saw him. It shattered. He sat there like he belonged… like he had always belonged… a glass of whiskey in hand, his laughs the loudest in the place, eyes sharper than eagle’s
If whoever I was seeing wasn’t a well-made clone, then my stepfather was very much alive. The man who had dumped his reckless loans on me, on the fact that he was dead, was very much alive… and thriving.
My breath caught in my throat, my heart slamming violently against my ribs as memories crashed into me all at once, accompanied by a heat of anger.
Everything he had done flashed before my eyes that instant, and right there, I felt like wrapping my hands around his crooked neck and squeezing it.
“Cecelia.” Marcus’s voice broke through my thoughts.
But I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Because he was right there, still breathing. Like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t ruined my life and disappeared from it without a trace.
“Look at me.”
Marcus’s hand closed gently but firmly around my wrist, pulling me back from the edge of my reverie.
My gaze snapped to his.
“Don’t react,” he said quietly, his eyes searching mine. “Whatever you just saw… control it.”
My chest heaved slightly as I forced myself to breathe. In and out. Slowly.
“I know him,” I whispered.
Marcus didn’t even bother to ask how. Or why. But I saw it in his eyes, he understood this wasn’t small.
“We can leave if you feel… uncomfortable,” he said.
I shook my head quickly, panic simmering beneath the surface. “No. Not yet.”
His grip tightened slightly. “Cecelia…”
“He hasn’t seen me yet,” I cut in, my voice sharper now.
“If he sees me, he could run,” I continued, my voice dropping. “And I need to know how he’s here.”
Marcus studied me for a long moment, as if he was about to pull the plug on the whole thing without even listening to me. Then all of a sudden, he let go.
“Make it quick,” he said. “You don’t disappear from my sight.”
I nodded once. That was all I needed.
The next minute, I moved through the crowd in the casino, letting myself feel like I belonged there.
All while watching to make sure he was still there.
He hadn’t changed at all. He still loud, still commanding and surrounded by people he thought he was smarter than.
A f*****g parasite. That’s what he was. Always had been.
I approached the bar slowly, positioning myself just close enough to use my newfound sense of hearing… far enough not to be noticed.
“Another round?” the bartender asked him.
“Keep them coming,” he laughed. “Tonight’s my night!”
My jaw tightened. I waited, listened and watched. And then, when the moment was right... I moved.
Not to him. To someone else at the bar.
The man sat alone and I noticed how he was watching the poker table too closely.
“He’s a regular here, isn’t he?” I said casually, nodding towards the full table.
The man glanced at me briefly. “Who?”
I tilted my head subtly toward my stepfather. “The loud one. Talks like he owns the place.”
A smirk tugged at the man’s lips. “Ah. Him.”
“Wins a lot, huh?” I asked.
The dealer let out a short laugh. “Wins enough to keep coming back, I’ll give you that. Though… not with his money.”
My pulse quickened.
“What do you mean? With who’s money?”
The man shrugged. “Guy’s been living and lavishing on borrowed luck for years. Heard he’d stacked debts so high, he faked his own death just to get away.”
My stomach twisted.
“I’m surprised anyone still lets him breathe.” The man added before emptying his glass.
The world tilted in my eyes. Mostly spun by anger.
“So he wasn’t really dead, you’re saying?” I pressed, my voice shockingly calm.
The man snorted. “Please. That man? Everyone here have heard all about how he staged the whole thing and disappeared overnight. He tells the tale all the time. Especially when he’s drunk and winning.”
My blood ran cold at everything the man was saying.
“Smart move honestly, if you ask me.” He chimed, raising his two fingers to signal the bartender over.
The pieces started to click into place in my head, so violently it almost made me stagger.
The debt. He’d shifted everything to me. Me who was innocent of it all, left to pay it all… with everything I had, including my life.
My hands trembled slightly, but I forced them still.
I turned my gaze back toward him, watching him laugh like the world owed him something. Like I owed him something.
Something inside me snapped.
“Son of a b***h…” I whispered under my breath.
- Writer
