Chapter 21: The World Of Liars
It was midnight, and the world outside was quiet, but inside André’s chambers the air felt alive. André sat calmly, looking at the door like a man who had already won a game no one else knew they were playing. His robe hung loose on his shoulders, and his hair fell a little over his face, but he looked every bit the predator waiting for his prey. His eyes glinted with the kind of patience that wasn’t patience at all, but the thrill of knowing the moment was coming.
Then came the knock.
Not timid. Not bold. Just one knock.
André’s lips curled into the kind of smile that would scare the shit out of anyone if they knew what was behind it. A devil’s smile dressed up as something soft. He stood quickly, walked to the door, and opened it with all the gentleness of a lover welcoming his bride.
And there she was.
Vivienne.
She was smiling too. Sweet. Innocent. A smile that said, Oh my lord, I am here just for you. But behind her eyes was madness, calculation, and a desperation to find that goddamn golden horse before it was too late.
André’s voice was low, dripping with mock concern. "I was worried you wouldn’t come."
Vivienne’s smile widened like honey, smooth and fake. She leaned in and hugged him, her arms looping around him. Her lips were close to his ear when she said, "I was very busy. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it on time."
But her eyes weren’t on him. Not at all. While her body pressed to his chest, her gaze darted around the room like a thief casing the place. The wardrobe. The desk. The drawers. The walls. Anything that looked like it could hide treasures.
Her smile was soft, but her brain was screaming, Where the fuck is it? Where the hell would he hide it?
André’s arms tightened around her, his hands pressing against her back with false tenderness. Inside his head he laughed. How stupid is she? She is hugging me like some lovesick idiot while scanning my room like a crow looking for shiny shit. Gold? Artifacts? Why the fuck would I keep that in my chambers? What am I, a peasant with a piggy bank?
He inhaled the scent of her hair, playing the doting lover, and thought, Well... since you came on your own, my little thief, I’ll just have fun with you.
---
Meanwhile, back in the town of Ravelle, Mireille tossed and turned in her little bed in the cottage. Sleep refused to come. Her chest felt heavy with unease. Finally, she sat up, muttered a curse under her breath, and walked barefoot to the lounge.
She grabbed a bottle of wine, poured herself a glass, and sat down in the dim candlelight. She took a long swallow, the burn settling her nerves a little.
Footsteps creaked. Delphine entered the room, her hair messy, her nightdress loose. She stopped when she saw Mireille with the wine. "You couldn’t sleep?"
Mireille shook her head, staring into her glass.
"Me too," Delphine said quietly, walking closer. She rubbed her arms like she was cold.
Mireille sighed. "I just... I have a bad feeling." She turned her face toward Delphine. "What about you?"
Delphine lowered herself into the chair across from her. "Same thing. I’m worried about the job." She hesitated, then added, "I still don’t understand why you let Vivienne in on this. You know how she is."
Her voice was sharper now, filled with irritation. "Selfish. Greedy. Backstabbing. She’ll definitely try to get it for herself and run away. You know it. She can’t be trusted. She cares for no one but herself."
Mireille let out a bitter laugh. "Vivienne is a con artist. Of course she shouldn’t be trusted."
"Then why the hell—"
"That’s exactly why we need her," Mireille cut in, her tone colder. "Because she won’t get swayed easily. That’s what makes her perfect. She doesn’t believe in loyalty, or love, or honor. All she believes in is winning. And that’s exactly what we need."
Delphine frowned, restless. "And what if she double crosses us?"
"She won’t."
Delphine leaned forward. "How can you be so sure? You sound like you don’t even know her."
Mireille’s eyes glinted in the dim light. "She can’t double cross us because I sent someone to assist her."
Delphine stiffened. "What?"
"To watch her every move. Once she finds the golden horse, we’ll know. She’ll have no choice but to hand it over. If she doesn’t... she’ll be arrested." Mireille drained the rest of her glass and stood up. "So stop worrying." She placed the glass down on the table with a small thud. "Goodnight, Delphine."
Delphine stared after her, her gut still twisting.
---
Back in André’s chambers, Vivienne finally pulled away from the hug, still smiling like the world’s sweetest little maid.
André’s smile mirrored hers.
Vivienne’s brain, however, was on fire. Let’s just get this shit over with. Smile, act sweet, survive whatever he’s about to do, find that goddamn horse, and get the fuck out of this cursed place.
André studied her face, his mind equally ablaze. You can try all you want. You won’t ever run from me.
He leaned down and kissed her.
His lips were soft at first, almost gentle, but Vivienne felt her stomach twist. She wanted to gag. Her brain screamed, Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. But her body stayed perfectly still, letting him kiss her like she was the shy virgin he thought she was.
Her inner voice shouted, Smile, Vivienne. Smile and survive.
But the kiss deepened, his hand sliding to her cheek, tilting her head just so. His tongue brushed her lips, and the bastard had the audacity to moan softly, like kissing her was some sacred gift.
Vivienne’s hands curled into fists behind her back. If I had a knife right now, I’d slit your throat and dance on your corpse.
Yet she kissed him back. Sweet. Tender. Like a girl head over heels.
André pulled back slightly, his forehead pressed against hers, his eyes glittering. "You taste like so sweet."
Vivienne’s stomach dropped. Her heart hammered. But she smiled, whispering, "And you taste like wine, my lord."
André chuckled darkly, his thumb stroking her lower lip. Inside, he thought, God, you’re fucking perfect. Do you think I don’t see through you? Do you think you can outplay me?
She thought, God, please strike this bastard dead before I vomit on his robe.
Both of them smiled at each other again, sweet as sugar, but their thoughts were knives.
And that was just the beginning of the night.