His Broken Obsession

Chess Piece

"Creak."

The sound of a door being opened echoed through the dimly lit room.

A figure with messy black hair peaking out from under her arms, stiffened, her upper body sprawled across the only table in the room, the dull yellow glare of a singly hanging light, illuminated her delicate fingers.

"Miss Rousseau.... " A gruff voice sounded as the intruder took his sit, the scratching sound grating against her ears.

Rousing, she stared the man in his eyes, irritated.

She had told them all she knew, shouldn't they just lock her up or something.

The more they prolonged this, the more dread she felt.

"Mr officer... I have nothing left to say" she muttered.

"Ahem.. it's detective John." The man cleared his throat embarrassedly, reintroducing himself for the fourth time today.

Marguerite was not at all interested in knowing his name.

Was the police department so daft, or were they just shocked at seeing someone turn them self in, that they turned dumb.

She had being here for hours, and it was still questions after questions, even when she had said all she knew.

Running her hand through her hair she took a deep breath and turned to face the clearly uncomfortable Man.

"So what is it this time?" She asked, holding back a yawn.

Rubbing her stomach, She remembered that she hasn't taken even a sip of water since she woke up.

The detective hesitated at her question, his hands shifting uneasily. " Miss Marguerite you haven't been clear enough....we would like to know your motivation for turning your self in, it could provide more clues."

"I already told you I felt guilty and wanted justice for the poor soul." she enunciated as sincerely as she could.

But the man didn't buy her words, clearing his throat again, he leaned against the wide table his elbows resting against the hard wood.

"Miss, you have to fully cooperate, hiding anything would not be in your best interest."

Marguerite scoffed at his words, what the f**k did saying her motivations have in relation with her best interest except maybe getting her a therapist.

He wouldn't even believe her if she tried.

Imagine hearing that someone had lived 5 years into the future. They would take her as crazy. She wasn't planning to go about being regarded as a fanatic.

Rolling her eyes, Marguerite opened her mouth, but the words were lost in her throat, Gripping the edge of the table tightly she bent over as a sharp pain shot across her lower abdomen.

"s**t," she whispered, beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. Black dots speckled her vision as she tried to bear the pain.

'What is going on, I feel so.... dizzy.'

"Miss? Miss?" the dectective was at loss at what to do. She was sitting alright just a minute ago and now....

Was she acting? but it looked so real.

Summoning courage he approached her, his mind on high alert in case of a sneak attack.

"Is anything wrong mam." He asked tentatively.

'Are you f*****g blind?' Marguerite cussed in her mind, she didn't even have the strength to say it out.

The man pressed a shaky hand against her head. His eyes widened in fear.

_cold_

Her skin was cold, so cold it made him shiver in fright.

Taking back his hand, he walked briskly towards the door, his heart beating fast against his chest.

This was a direct descendant of the head of the Rousseau family, whether she was a potential criminal or not didn't matter, if anything happen to her, even fifty of him wouldn't be able to bear the consequences.

But before he could reach the door.

_Thud_

His heart leaped to his throat, he turned around, jumping in fright after seeing Marguerite slumped against the floor, her metal chair toppled over.

"s**t" quickly pushing open the door with his trembling hands, he almost peed on himself.

"Someone, call the medics" he shouted into the hallway, interrupting a group chatting in front of the door.

The group paused, then one of them walked over to him "John? What happened—" but the sight beyond the door made him stop wide eyed, before he quickly rushed off to make the call.

The rest of the group exchanged wary glances as they shuffled towards the door surprised by their friend's action.

Peeking over the Terrified detective shoulder their expression soon morphed into fright.

"Damn, John what did you do" a lady from the group slapped his shoulder, an enraged expression on her face.

John felt like crying, but no tears came out.

"I swear I have no idea what's going on....I just sat there and then–then...."

" And then she decided to pull a show?" The lady snarkly remarked.

She was the only one still standing near him as the rest of the group had backed off, not wanting to be involved.

Rolling her eyes at them, she turned back to the detective who was at the verge of breaking down.

Her brows knotted, she scolded him.

"Even if she was annoying you shouldn't have overreacted. You know how fragile these pampered princesses are."

" I didn't, I swear I didn't touch her," The man almost screamed, he wished he could go back in time so he would vehemently refuse this job.

The lady's expression calmed at his words but then in the next second she frowned, her eyes shifty as she lowered her voice.

"You have to inform, you know.....him." her gaze sharpened as she whispered" if he doesn't get what he wants.... His wrath won't be less than her family's."

The detective nodded, a chill enveloping him as he digested her words.

The lady officer softly patted his back, before turning to rejoin the others.

Just then, paramedics arrived, with the officer from before leading them.

They entered the room and soon emerged with the limp figure of Margarita.

The detective watched as her body soon disappeared from view.

Shaking his head, he headed towards a corner where he made a call. As the phone connected, he took a deep breath before speaking.

------------------------

"I asked you to figure out her motivations not torture her."

In a upscale building, from a chair facing a floor to ceiling window, a mellow yet dangerously charming voice serenaded the entire room.

The chair spun slowly to reveal a man–an extremely handsome man, his brown hair was disheveled, sharp jawline soften by unshaved stubble, his thick eyebrows slightly twitching as he held a phone to his ear.

H voice was serene and even his expression spelt calm but the detective on the end of the line shivered in fright.

"Where is she?...If this stint interferes with my plan.... " The man's grey eyes grew a shade darker as he left the rest of his words unsaid, but the meaning was clear.

Hanging up, he flicked his phone, the device landing smoothly on the huge mahogany table in front of him, many documents strewn across it.

His face was expressionless, but the vein throbbing in his clenched fist told a different story.

Staring at the documents on his desk for sometime, he sat up, his hands reaching for his suit jacket but just as he grabbed it, the double frosted glass doors of the room opened.

Stopping In his tracks, he watched a middle aged man walk towards him his entire temperament screaming anger.

"Henri, Kyra was kidnapped."

Sighing, he dropped his jacket, reclining back in his chair "I know, father."

"You know?..." Stunned for a minute, but then the anger on his face slowly morphed to disgust, "You knew and you didn't do anything about it, because of that b***h right? You knew she was the cause so you are trying to protect her, even after everything?"

Massaging his forehead with his fingers Henri closed his eyes as his father spewed words that were unbefitting of his status.

The older man stared fixated at him a calculating light flashing through his sharp eyes that bore an uncanny resemblance to that of his son

"Henri don't you see it? This is a perfect chance to take back what's ours."

Those words seemed to have an effect on Henri as his eyes snapped open, "We can't do anything."

"What, Henri don't tell me you're sti–"

"She's in jail." interrupting, he placed his hands on the smooth polished table drumming a low tune.

"Jail?.. ..what? I mean how. Did you do it?" His father asked.

"If I did that, she'll be out by now. She turned her self in." He explained.

The older man felt incredulous.

His son just stared at him in silence.

"Why did she do it?"

"That, I don't know."

"We have to find out, it might be a trick, a ploy by those wretched manipulators."

"I am already on that father."

"Uhmm." nodding solemnly the older man turned to leave but soon spun back on his heels.

His expression was wary, his eyes searching." Henri, how did you find out about her turning herself in."

Henri smirked but it was soaked in derision and mockery.

Tilting his head, he faced the older man "What is it father, you don't trust me?"

"Humph, I just wanted to make sure there was no ties between the both of you." the man snorted before strolling out of the room.

Henri's eyes darkened as he watched his father leave, he had to tell his men to lay low for sometime.

It was crazy how a father could be so proud yet so jealous of his own son.

Or maybe he was never proud of him just saw him as a tool to get what he wanted.

He wanted complete control— submission excessively, to know his every step. Even if his son was to grow, it was to be never past his reac.

Funny enough, Henri really didn't even have to source for this information since he stumbled on it indirectly.

As the glass doors closed up, hiding the view of his father, His thoughts came running, back to the call he just had.

Swiping his hands over his face he stood up, picked his phone and made his way out of his office.

it took a few seconds for him to reach his personal elevator, the silence that accompanied his footsteps were a reminder of his anger driven decision to sack all members of his personal team just this morning.

Though by evening, a new team would've been assembled unfailingly.

The doors of the elevator closed off, and soon he walked out heading in the direction of his car in the underground parking lot.

A chess piece was refusing to play by the rules so he has to put it in place.