Page 19 of Darkest Deception

I shudder and gasp for air. My lungs squeeze as I struggle for oxygen, and my eyes water at the lack of it. I frantically look around. Am I alone? What made the thud?

I spot the open balcony window.

The curtains flare angrily, thrashing in the strong wind.

He was here.

He came through the window, and he left a fucking note.

I stand still, unable to move or do anything but watch the piece of paper like a hawk, willing it to disappear, to be a fragment of my imagination, but it’s not.

A small cry climbs up my throat. My eyes sting, but I swallow the painful lump down.

With shaky fingers and weak legs, I stumble around, shutting the balcony doors before heading to my bed. With trembling fingers, I reach out and grab the paper, my eyes fixed on the balcony in case he comes back.

I tug on the ribbon and uncurl the paper.

Even the worst of sinners deserves to see a glimpse of heaven.

You’ve managed to bring hell on earth for everyone.

There is no signature, nor any indication of who this could be from, but I know. I just know it’s from the man who has stood outside my balcony in my garden for the past few months.

The worst part is, I never imagined I’d be someone’s object of obsession. I don’t see myself ever stepping a foot into heaven after what I did.

He’s right. I did that.

I did bring hell to everyone’s life here.

That nineteen million won’t be enough for me to survive on. It won’t be enough to help the families of those I ruined in my desperate attempt to impress my father.

I destroyed people’s lives. I ruined people’s images and killed their self-esteem in fits of anger, jealousy, and boosts of ego.

A person like me doesn’t deserve to be called an obsession.

It feels like this note is mocking me.

Maybe it is.

6

“Ack.”

My eyes snap to my black crow. He’s flapping his wings as he flies around the living room. Glass windows take up three of the living room walls, facing a dense forest where the only thing you can see for miles is tall tree trunks. He’s a common raven that I helped nurse back to health in Melbourne when I was visiting my client, a politician wanting votes for his campaign. I made it happen for that man. I also kept records of his secrets, knowing it would one day come in handy.

I kept Blaze with me when I couldn’t let go, and he didn’t mind travelling with me.

He is the only one I don’t mind in my presence, nor do I mind him when I want to be alone. Somehow, he understands my need for silence. He always does.

Blaze comes back into the kitchen above me, circles the kitchen island I am seated at two times, then alights on my shoulder. He tilts his head, bends down, and pokes me on the shoulder once.

“You want this too?” I point to the pathetic bowl of cereal I quickly made. I have to head out to meet with my personal accountant soon.

Picking some cereal out of the box, I hold it up to his beak. He nibbles it, then taps on my shoulder twice. I chuckle.

“Okay, now you want two? Little greedy shit. I already fed you.” I give it to him nonetheless, and after being satisfied, he takes off, cawing loudly in the living room.

He only does this when he wants to get out. I can’t take him anywhere; but now that I think about it… Would anyone say anything to me if I did? Remo granted me newfound power to help me live lavishly in London.

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