It sat there, ripping at his soul and mind. An ominous item of shallow darkness and perfected horrendous feelings covered with his very blood. The dark claret red added a rustic abliss to the boastful black of the cold metal and he couldn't help but admire it. He instantly felt a sickening punch at his gut, how could he admire an object that caused such a ghastly disgrace to his name and family?
He heard the footsteps of Sandra heels and exhaled the cuban cigar he had been smoking. oh, she's home early he thought, his mind in a blissful sleepy state of peace. Synthetic peace of course, true peace couldn't come from a pill or a puff of smoke. He knew this well, he had been searching for true peace all his life and all he ever got was moments.
He felt Sandra cool touch before he saw her face. He quickly slipped the object back in his safe and turned to greet her. Her hand on his shoulder as she dashed a kiss at his cheek bought fore the same rush of warmth it always did it. Her touch had forever been addictive to him, it was better than any synthetic peace he had dreamt of and so he pulled her into a deep kiss that seemed to last for minutes. But he didn't care, he rather have her than air.
" What's wrong?" She asked after they broke apart,"You look stressed." She observed concernedly and pressed her hand against his face gently.
He brushed away her touch and moved to pour himself a drink of whiskey. He didn't want to talk about the pang in his heart, he barely wanted to think of it. "Now is hardly the time, dearest." He said to her, already half way through the glass.
"Why? what ails you?" She questioned, as she moved to take a seat on their cream coloured couch. He watched her as she slipped off her heels and picked the book she left on the hand rest.
But the question had his mind in trembles. What ails you? she had asked, how could he answer ? Everything? Nothing? the fact that you or I could die and no one would really remember our existence in decade. Or maybe it was that he kept his mom murder weapon in his safe
No.
A better question would be; What ails you today?
The answer speeded into his mind so fast, his reply was instantiate. "We received an invitation." He said with a dead voice. He poured another glass, another hope for peace.
" What sort of invitation?" She arched a brow in curiosity and flicked her blonde hair back, the book laid forgotten in her hands for the a moment."Is it the investor?"
He shook his head, not as a reply but as a reaction to the sting of the alcohol as it hit the back of his throat."No, Vincent is only throwing his dinner party next month." He poured another shot, knowing his next words would leave a bitter after taste in his mouth.
"It's from you know who."
A realization played over her features and she let out a tiny, "oh," of surprise. A slient moment claimed them, both remembering past meetings with the man. "Well," Sandra sighed heavily, "This isn't fun." She cracked a small laugh, trying shift the dark cloud that seemed hang over them.
He paid her words no mind, now too in memories and rage. That man, whom he had once called a brother, had taken so much from him. Made him hate who he was, hate his life, hate his own blood, a person like that shouldn't be allowed to live.
"That cursed man- I swear-" He broke off in anger, feeling the need to throw something." Everytime I feel an inch of happiness he just-"
Steals it away.
He couldn't finish his sentence because he turned to see Sandra slipping off her dress and wrapping herself in a thin sheet. Her body clearly outlined, and suddenly his blood was boiling for another reason. Still, after all this time together, she could take away his breath with a glance.
But he had recovered himself and his rage as soon as she seated herself back on the couch. " Its his bloodly birthday Sandra!" He spit out the words, "And he dares invite me to that house.."
The house she died in.
The memories of his mother bloodly form filled his head and so he poured another drink.
"Peace, love." Sandra soothing voice filled his head, making him feel instantly calmer. But then she stood up and the sheet slipped of her shoulders and he felt dizzy again. "I understand your frustration. I dislike him too. But we are under no circumstances to refuse." She said, reminding of all the favors the man had done for them.
He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his rushing heart. But the anger haven't left, and he desperately needed a distraction from his thoughts. He eyed his wife with increasing desire and ran his fingers down her shoulders. " You're right, you're always right." he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Why should I worried about him when I have you?"
He felt her warm breath against his neck as she let out a laugh. All day he felt asleep, his body tired and dragging against the will of the work. But now that he was with her, he never felt more awake. She broke away with a smile and took her place back on couch. Her book now held in her arms as if it were gold.
"Just try to survive it," she adviced," It can't last long. Besides, his wine collection is worth it."
He hid away a smile. His wife love of wine was notorious among their friends. She could simply kill for a good glass of wine.
"Yes, yes." He sighed, taking a seat next to Sandra. "I can handle one night with the corkpopper."
Just as he sat down, his phone gave a ping. He took out the immanent device and immediately regretted it. It was message from his assistant, Elizabeth Carter. Stating his son Mason had gotten into another fight at another bar with another one of his hoe friends. Mason was a troubled child, he had always know that he would be. How could he not be? with a father who needed to snort coke before every business meeting.
He sent Elizabeth the money needed to get Mason out of jail and switched off his phone for the night. Beside him, Sandra had folded her arms and shifted away. He immediately knew she had seen Elizabeth name. The two of them had never gotten along right, but whilst Sandra was his heart and soul, Elizabeth was his right hand and backup brain. He couldn't survive without either of them.
"Elizabeth been giving you glances."
He almost smirked, but his brain told him that definitely was not the right response.
"Eliza is nothing but a co-worker," He said firmly.
" A co-worker in the office, or a co-worker in the bed?" Sandra arched a brow at him. He could sense the danger of this conversation a mile away and decided he should change it as fast as he could.
" What does that even matter?" He tried to kiss her lips,"You're my co-worker in life." she moved away before he could do anything but have his brush his lips against hers. He felt a chill when he saw the deadly look on her face.
"You're married to me and you should only be sleeping with me."
He felt his own temper flare, soon his anger had matched hers. Whenever they argued their words would clash like thunder and lightening. Both fierce, both fire. They always ended up burning together.
"And who says I'm not?" He said, his head began spinning but he paid it no mind." For once I wish you would actually trust me, have faith in me and realize my loyalty has always been with you." He stood to his feet, trying to get rid of his dizziness. Why did Sandra suddenly look like Taylor Swift? damn alcohol.
She stood up right next to him. Her face hard and her eyes glaring,"Oh really?" She started and he instantly felt dread."Your loyalty to me? as if I haven't heard what has been said behind my back. I am not naïve, I know the whispers well, but remember, without me, your entire company would not be in existence."
He laughed coldly at that remark. She helped him with everything yes, but he could have done it without her any day. At least, that's what he chose to believe." I would not speak so sharply if I were you. I could have built anywhere, it's in my family blood, but you? you were nothing without my status." why did she have to be so damn frustrating?
Sandra laughed mockingly, " Oh really? Do you consider me a lowborn then? sweetheart, status means nothing to me. You are talking heiress of an ancient house, watch your silver tongue before you insult it." She warned, but Alan had never been fearfull of her.
Well, not that much anyway.
"Ancient, Forgotten, you need to move this century dear, and stop living in the past. You act as if we didn't build this empire together, you act as if we weren't partners in everything. You assume I fool around but the same could be said for you."Alan felt the urge to look at his gun again but instead poured himself another shot and down it in a second. 'I spoke to Markus, Sandy. He told me a lot." he said quietly.
A shadowy glare came over her face at the mention of his name." Markus? The cheating slut who tried to get at me? Believe it or not, there's a reason why he couldn't show up at work last month and was hospitalized. " She looked down her silver charm bracelet and touched it." My only regret is that the needle did not pierce his heart."
Alan paused, cup at his lips. It did make sense when he thought about it. Markus was forever chasing after anything with two legs, he was a hoe through and through and he did nothing to hide that fact. If he were being honest, Markus had been his friend for a long time, they had even gone to school together. It pained him to think that after years of friendship and companionship Markus was still always what he would always be. Alan was beginning to realize that no matter how much you cared about someone, gave for someone, lost for someone. you couldn't change them and make them do the same.
He looked Sandra's face. Fiercely beautiful as the day they had met. Her eyes still held that warmth for him even when they made him shiver. She, this woman who had given so much to him, lost even more for him, but still cared for him, was his greatest pride.
" Consider her fired."
You only get one chance at something better than what you deserve
and she was his.
The invitation laid forgotten on Alan's bedside table. The low light casted a mellow glow on to the creamy black and white piece of paper. In tiny curly letters written on the back it read:
We need to talk
- Delilah Black