Chapter 21
Our surroundings define us. We make this choice subconsciously and don’t always know why we choose these people. But once our actions become conscious and deliberate, stepping away from our usual patterns gets tricky. A cell torn out from a body won’t survive on its own.
I froze, looking into his eyes in the mirror. His dark gaze slid from my eyes to my cheeks, lips and hair. I felt unnatural and awkward.
I got used to disgust, anger and indifference, but I wasn’t prepared to see curiosity in his eyes. Hadn’t I known his opinion of me, I’d have thought he actually liked me.
My pulse sped up as his gaze slowly slid down my body like a cold snake.
I wanted to turn away and cover myself, but it was too late.
I hated the way his presence made my body stiffen up. I knew he could see me freeze every time I saw him. He liked it, I just knew it.
He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a black rosebuds pattern. His hair was neatly styled back in rich waves. His scent filled the room. The scent of amber, musk and spices.
“There’s a white dress in the black garment bag.”
Our eyes met again.
I turned around and walked up to the wardrobe.
I could feel his eyes on me. It made my movements look strained .
I put on the dress and was about to zip it up when I heard his footsteps. He gently brushed my hair to the side. He zipped it up in one steady move.
I bent over and picked a pair of blood red pumps from the bottom shelf of the wardrobe. I expected him to object, but he said nothing.
I sat down on the bed and put the shoes on the carpet.
He came up to me and got on one knee. His scent embraced and marked me.
He rested his warm hand on my ankle, sending a wave of goosebumps through my body. With a gentle motion of his right hand he slid the right shoe on, then did the same with the left one.
He took my hand, helping me up.
I walked to the mirror and saw a statue of a Greek goddess come to life.
The delicate details on the sleeves and folds of fabric along the dress added lightness to my look.
Part of the fabric was wrapped around my waist, showing off my figure.
The dress was floor length, adding sophistication to the overall image.
It covered the shoes. That brought me down a bit.
“You’re perfect.”
I looked up at him.
His compliment caught me by surprise. But I was even more baffled that, despite seeing me naked before, he only saw a woman in me now, as I stood before him in this dress.
“Thank you,”
I whispered, looking down at my heels, trying to hide my awkwardness.
“Look at me.”
The icy note in his voice was back.
I lifted my gaze and our eyes met again.
“At the reception, I want you not to talk to anybody. Stay by my side or anywhere I can see you. Everyone has to think we’re a couple. Got it? ”
“Yes.”
He frowned slightly when his eyes fell on my hair.
“Do you always straighten your hair?”
“Sometimes.”
He caught a lock of my hair between his fingers.
“Could you...”
His dark eyes left my hair and found my eyes.
The strand slipped through his fingers like a feather and fell on my back.
“Sana scolded me today for breaking a few stitches again. If you’re gonna hit me, can you hit somewhere below the stitches to let them heal?”
He frowned.
He looked confused and slightly disgusted.
“What makes you think I was going to hit you?”
He didn’t hit me yesterday, he just took the knife. But it all seemed like a matter of time to me.
“I’m not gonna hit you, Zoe. I don’t hit girls. Definitely not the way you expect, at least.”
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant. The realization stunned me like a bright flash of a light bulb in a dark closet.
“Let’s go.”
He took my hand and led me downstairs.
No one spoke a word for the first hour on the road.
It was the middle of the night. I tried to make out anything outside, but it was too dark.
I turned to look at him. He was looking out the window. His elbow rested on the door panel. His knuckles were pressed to his lips.
His cheekbones boasted clean-cut, even lines, as did his nose. Black hair matched his slightly tanned complexion perfectly. His soft berry lips looked well-defined .
“Do you want to ask me something?” he asked, not turning his head.
“No.”
I turned to the window.
My right hand was playing with the ring.
“Yes.”
He turned his head to look at me, ready to give me his full attention.
Our eyes met and my breath quickened as I took in the air laden with the rich scent of leather seats.
I had many questions. All of them floundered in the sea of my thoughts, drowning in his stormy, turbulent obsidian eyes.
I knew he wouldn’t want to answer all of them. I was willing to try and be left in the dark.
I looked down at my hands and asked,
“How do you earn your living?”
“Drugs.”
It came out so casually, as if he said something like, “I sell cars.”
“Do you like it?”
“It has its ups and downs. Just like any other job.”
“This isn’t ’any other job’. You’re ruining people’s lives,” I said under my breath.
“I’m not responsible for people’s lives. Just like I don’t make a choice for them.”
“Addicts don’t have a choice. Their choice is made by drugs and people like you.”
My courage was coming back, dragging my anger with it.
His smile grew wider, baring his teeth and leaving dimples in his cheeks.
He was laughing.
What was so funny?
He got quiet abruptly. His black eyes, darker than a moonless night, stared into mine. His right eyebrow was raised .
“Are you judging me?”
“Yes. With the money you have, you could’ve done something meaningful for the world without actually harming anyone.”
“Like what?”
“Like building a car factory. Hire people. Give them jobs. Do something worthwhile, something useful. You could’ve changed the world. Or at least tried to make it better.”
“Factories emit huge amounts of harmful gases into the atmosphere, destroying and polluting the planet. They increase the incidence of many diseases in people, including the terminal ones. Cars also cause a ton of harm to the environment and people.”
“Then open a private clinic. Hire skilled professionals. Let them save lives while you manage the business, look for investors, take part...”
“I don’t care about that,” he cut me off, “I’m no Messiah and don’t wanna be one.”
“You’re not even close to being one. Messiah doesn’t destroy anything, he creates things.”
I bit down on my lower lip, trying to hold back my anger and reminding myself he was the one in control here.
He saw it and I noticed one corner of his lips perk up.
“What if I don’t want to?”
“What?”
“What if I don’t want to change the world and serve people? What if I want to live this life my way?”
“Then live without hurting others. Villains are miserable because everything they do reaps nothing but evil and devastation. They’d never be surrounded by good people. They’re lonely. So stay alone and live with your demons, away from people.”
He chuckled.
“I used to read different fairy-tales as a kid. The ones where the princess went to the bad guy herself, because her world wasn’t black and white, and there was no justice in it. That’s why the bad guy comes and takes what he wants.”
“This princess is just as evil as he is.”
“Maybe.”
His slender fingers rubbed his chin.
“What would you do if you woke up just like me tomorrow?”
“I’d kill myself.”
I didn’t hesitate to answer.
I had no problem telling the good from the evil.
I’m good.
He’s bad.
He smiled. The lights of a passing car made his smile look even more insidious.
“What makes me a bad guy, Zoe?”
“You’re well aware. Your actions, of course.”
“If I were to wake up tomorrow and decide to stop dealing drugs. If I used most of my money to fund rehab centers. Would that make me a good person?”
“Nothing could wipe out what you’ve done. You killed four innocent people, and that’s the ones I know about. How many lives have you ruined?”
I wanted to say five, but my mom’s still alive.
“So a bad guy can’t change and become good? Does that mean bad people don’t deserve forgiveness?”
“You don’t. There’s a limit.”
“And who’s to decide where this limit lies?”
“Common sense. Sound judgement. Universal moral principles.”
“Zoe, have you ever hated someone so much, you didn’t just want to just kill them, because their death would bring you satisfaction? You wanted to keep and torture them, wallowing in their suffering.”
“No.”
I swallowed hard .
“I’m not that...”
“You’re not that kind of person? Was that what you were going to say there?
And If I were to make a call ordering for your parents to be killed?
And not only them, but all your friends and family.
Everyone you’ve ever talked to or made eye contact with.
And then took a gun out and asked you to choose. My life or yours?”
“The choice is obvious. Yours.”
“I knew you’d rather pick mine,” he grinned, “but are you going to kill yourself once you’ve shot me?”
My heart was thumping in my chest like he’d already pulled the phone out, ready to make the call.
“Yes.”
“According to the universal moral principles , you can’t kill either of us. Would you be able to live with yourself, knowing I was going to rot in prison for the rest of my life?”
“What’re you trying to say?”
“That you’re a hypocrite, Zoe. You’re not as nice as you think.
Life hasn’t come down on you hard enough to make you squirm, trying to save everything you love no matter the price.
You claim to live as per your morals and principles.
But why do they fall like a house of cards the moment I touch it? ”
I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry.
“That’s different.”
“Different?”
He smirked.
“By that logic, I’m not a bad guy? Then who’s the bad guy, Zoe?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can be the bad guy, if you want. Or do you prefer playing nice? Because I don’t mind being myself. But it really flatters me when you call me a bad guy. It’s like you want me to be one. So you won’t have to.”
His words stirred internal struggle in me .
“You don’t follow moral principles. You pick and choose them however it suits you.”
He wasn’t just manipulative. He cracked your skull open and went elbow deep in your mind, picking out the tools he could use as weapons against you.
His eyes, like two black holes, glistened in the night. His smile never left his lips.
“I like your innocence and that open-hearted altruism. It’s cute.”
I huffed.
I turned to the window, folding my arms.
That’s how the evil is, it never sees the full picture. And it doesn’t need to, since it exists only to destroy.