I sit on the edge of the kitchen counter as the three of them- Wolfe, Niko and Stel sit on barstools on the other side of the kitchen counter. I uncross my hands and brace myself on the edge, and in swift motion, I pull myself to sit on the kitchen counter. It is cold and my thighs almost flinch slightly.
Wolfe suggested that this was something he couldn't discuss in the absence of Nicolas and Stellan, since they were coherent parts of the business he was so deeply involved in. And that's how it ended up being them coming over to my apartment.
Wolfe slammed his glass on the counter and the sound reverberated throughout my thighs and goosebumps danced on my skin. Niko's eyes look in a daze, as if he's carefully considering the info Wolfe provided us all with. I use one hand to support myself while using the other one to sip from my juice silently. "This is strange," I laughed nervously.
"Indeed," Nikolas muttered and crossed his arms, "He's hosting a dinner for our batch right immediately after the matches. This is way too coincidental for something," he shrugged, "I contacted a few of our batchmates, they admitted to having received the letter; in fact, they were pretty excited."
"I just can't see why Dartagnan's son would want to do all of this right after one bitch stormed into his father's hospital, shot the manager and gave him a good ass-whooping," he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and laughed in a muffled tone. I shoot him a look of utter disapproval. "Don't pretend that I'm exaggerating, Isa. You literally shot somebody?! That's no funny business here, young lady," he leaned back and eyed me curiously, "Wherever to you disappeared in Montreal, I don't trust your motives at all."
"No, that's not it," Wolfe shook his head, staring straight ahead, "Things have been tremulous between the father and son since ages now," he straightens his shoulders, "I seem to have some more information which may sound extremely stupid, but I can say with conviction that it is precisely spot on." We looked at him questioningly as he got up and grabbed his iPad. Scrolling through it secretively, he finally placed it on the stool. I leaned over, eyeing it curiously.
"Jaisel was twenty-four when he came to our university," he paused and swiped again, coming to another picture of Jaisel standing in a familiar location- now that I think carefully, it definitely is the audience's stands back in Harvard. The timestamp on the picture dates back to 2017, the year when we graduated from Harvard- the day of the final soccer and basketball matches. "Already a successful entrepreneur, by then, having graduated from Harvard as well." He looked at us as if wanting us to guess.
"Does that mean he could have been there when we were freshmen?" Stel asked with a furrowed brow. It sounded unlikely, anyways. "Not exactly, but you're close," Wolfe sported a lopsided smile that hinted victory, "He bid his farewell when we entered," he shook his head, "I have a bad feeling about this dude. It's like he's been tailing us all along, or more accurately," he snuck a glance at me from the corner of his eyes, "-someone among us."
"SUS, Wolfe," I made a face at him and groaned, "I don't like the way you're looking at me."
"I'm not accusing you," he grunted and kept his eyes on his iPad, scrolling again, until his brows furrowed farther; at this point, I'm not sure if he can go even farther than that. I drum my fingers on the table, until he turns the screen towards me.
I am shocked, stunned, my blood turning to ice at the photograph he shoves in my face; it's like a punch in the guts. I recognize all three of the faces in the picture- it's just that it comes off as entirely implausible. Bile climbs up my throat and wiggles there like the most unwanted of visitors- I tried to gulp with no help from my parched throat.
"I can't-" I couldn't formulate my words sensibly, "-I- no," I shook my head fervently, "Why and how is this possible!" It's more displeasure than a question.
He plucked the iPad out of my grasp and places it on the countertop; Nikolas and Stellan stay frozen stunned in their seats. The scent of fear that fills my lungs, the acrid taste of terror rising up my throat- it's just up to my expectations.
"I dug into all the links he could have had with any of us," he ground his teeth, his eyes fixed on the ceiling length glass windows- a gaze so sharp that I was afraid it could pierce the glass. "I found this only a few days back. Since this was merely a picture, I completely researched the entire footage," he muttered, "I happen to know some stuff that they discussed as well."
I waited for him to continue; he just swiped again. Another video, but without the audio. "What does this mean?" I question him, confused and exasperated. 'Don't tell me," Nikolas protests, "You'd asked for Alinani because of this?!" He huffs, "You're insufferable, Wolfe. You could have discussed it with me, but why am I knowing about this only now?"
"That's not important," Wolfe brushed him away, "What's important is the interpretation of this visual. I asked for a professional who could read lips," he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. "Alinani Oliveira has been working for me as a Private Investigator for years now. He's one of the people who's efficient at lip reading," he winked at me, "The best, of course. And what's on the paper has been on my mind," he stared at me, but it was so different from the way he usually would. There was no hint of mischief; it was just intrusive if anything.
"I'm curious about who you are, Achelois Crimson."
My breath hitches in my throat, but much more due to anxiety and pained anticipation than butterflies in my belly. Masking fear was a survival essential where I'm from. So much so that I don't feel fear as others apparently do.
If I were to be something between a woman and not, what would that make me? It's quite the convoluted question; I can be anything I set my mind to. But there is skin over my bones, and roses on my lips, and I have a stature that people just can't seem to see through. Some nights, I don't align with the thoughts in my head, and some nights I don't recognize the body lying in my bed. It's never enough because they just go on and assume who I am. I try to fight through all these cracks in my head, but I am weaving boulders, and societal expectations that constantly leave me feeling this deep shade of red. I still question who I am, maybe a little too much. I wish it was just enough to be the person I feel like on the inside. I've been terrified of myself for so long. And somewhere in between, it dawned on me. That I was going to die in this disturbed state of questioning. But if I were to die someday, I don't want to die feeling disoriented towards myself. People might be loving me anyway; and even if they don't- it isn't on me to change. Because my peace is my own, and my soul isn't some pawn to be played.
So, if I were to be something between a woman and not, what would that make me?
"Isa?!"
"Huh?" I look at a bewildered Wolfe with a tight white grip on my arm, shaking me fervently. His eyes widen in just the slightest. "Isa?" He asks again, his grip loosening but still in place. "Where did you go?" He shares a look with Nicolas and Stel as I look at the place where his hand has gripped my arm. It's white still.
"What does it say?" I snatch the paper from his hands, mind more fixated at the question he asked me out of the blue rather than the paper instead, when the contents snap me back into the present. I stare at it. Baffled and disgusted.
"The fuck are they talking?!" I shout, irritation like the bitter poison and fierce fire conflagration inside my veins. I slap it on the counter table.
"You didn't have a say in it; I don't think you will-"
"This isn't about them!" I howl at what I think was Stellan's voice, "THIS ISN'T FUCKING ABOUT THEM. I'm fucking twenty three, I can fucking make my own decisions," I say slowly, stressing on every single word, "They can just stop putting their two cents in my business!"
"But-"
"We don't fucking live in the 1950s, so save it, Wolfe," I tell him, showing him my palm, an indication to stop, "Do I look like a lap dog?!"
"No, you look hotter than Scarlett Johannson, though but," Stellan mutters, in a confused tone, like a stupid guy. I cross my arms and walk towards the window, staring down at the familiar Californian roads. "Say, is it fun?" I sneer aggressively.
"The point is," Wolfe says brusquely, "The common factor in everything Jasiel is doing is you, Achelois."
I turn around sharply as I notice that he's got a fair point. Walking towards the kitchen counter again, I pick up his tab again, scrolling back to the original picture of who seems to be this enigma called Jasiel Simpson. "Maybe I can comb info down on him and do a tad more research." He phrases it like a question, as if still asking me for permission, and I like him because he does that all the time. He never oversteps the boundaries.
"We're going to approach this in a different manner," Nico suggestively looks at me, commanding my attention. He's got it now.
"Approach how?" I ask him, taking a seat on one of the stools on the opposite side of the side they're sitting. I brace my face using my elbows to lean on the table, looking at them curiously.
"Not something new to you," Wolfe smiles cheekily, "We'd rather try to watch and monitor his actions to get a better analysis of how he'll take his decisions before we take a step."
"And you think he'll be laying it easy as fuck for you?" I laugh, "Listen to me," I eye all the three of them, "Cut out that egocentric control BS now, okay?" I chuckle, but it's mirthless.
"Listen to me, you," Wolfe says, his voice dropping by several octaves, "You've just recently been in Cali; you don't know how it works any longer, okay?" he stands up and turns around, "Things aren't the same, Isa. Dartagnan is after me," he growls.
"Father-in-law dearest?!" I shout at him in disbelief, "But wasn't Delilah your girlfriend or something?"
"Delilah is just a mere chess piece in our game," he clicks his tongue, his tone almost heavy with suspense, "Tactics mean doing what you can do with what you have," he says, the corner of his lips twisted in a lopsided smile, "She's my way to gain my ears and eyes into the Simpson family, where both Jasiel and Dartagnan have already proven to me their disapproval in such a young businessman who's countering their success at a far more regal pace."
"Never announce your moves before you make them," I quote my favorite line from the times I started playing chess. Looking into the empty glass, I smile, a hundred fires alight in me.
"That's what I'm trying my hand at," he sits down on the edge of the countertop, and smiles at me, a vicious glint in his eyes being the thing that has given me the most confidence till date, "Join hands with us, Achelois."
I look into his eyes piercingly, looking for answers. His heaven-spun autumnal gaze- I could hold it forever. "What's in it for me?" It was a straightforward demand; I rarely beat around the bush.
He laughed, his laugh laced with the sweetest poison- frankly, it's like the lazy hammer to my confidence, not really breaking it but making it flicker slightly. He gets up from the edge and turns round where the counter ends, coming into the cooking space. I stand facing him, crossing my arms.
"There's a lot in it for you, Achelois Crimson," he says, his voice sliding down my skin and making my insides shudder, "There's me."
And I don't see however that matters.
A/N:-
That was............a lot of editing from my previous draft honestly. The way I phrase the dialogues seriously needs a change.
Writing that mindless passage questioning who I am was my favorite thing about the entire story. It was something I wrote while talking aloud to myself, and that honestly, is the best therapy when it comes to me writing something.
QOTD: Do you like the chapter? IMPORTANT AF.
I've forgotten a lot of things that I had chalked out about the novel mostly because it's been such a long time. When I remind myself of the plot, it gives me such a rush. It's so well-planned but I'm executing it so displeasingly. Attaching a picture of the demo cover because I'm changing the title and stuff.
Anyways.