LOGINTwo years after The Attack
Brielle I turn 20 today. And while it's good because in some countries I'm considered an adult and free to do what I like, I feel sad and miserable today because the only thing I would want to do is spend today with my parents but unfortunately, I can't. Because I'm with Marcello Hayes, the man that murdered my parents in cold blood. Actually, I'm lying in bed next to him. I've been awake for the past hour, staring at the sun rising in the distance as I shed tears, wondering how my life dwindled down to… this. Living for one man's purpose and nothing else. As if to drive that point home, Marcello stirred in the bed, turning around to face me as his full lashes fluttered open. His eyes darkened when he saw that I was already awake, with a thin white sheet covering my bosom. “You're awake.” I sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I couldn't sleep…” “Why?” He murmured, that deep voice touching parts of me that I wanted to ignore. I starred at his face, that gorgeous face I first saw two years ago and even though a part of me hated him, I still had a sliver of affection for him. It's crazy, I know because what sane person would feel compassion or even a tiny bit of affection for a cold blooded murderer but Marcello surprise me sometimes. Of course, he could be cruel and unforgiving sometimes but at other times, he shows me a sweet side of him and it messes with my head. Or at least, that's what I tell myself when I find myself in this state. “Oh, nothing…” I smile at him but it didn't reach my eyes. He stares at me for another minute before pulling me into his arms, winding them tight around his midriff as he plastered his body to my back. The cuddling only lasted a minute before his arms and lips started to move. I tensed up but that didn't last so long as my body melted against his, desire springing forth. The first time Marcello and I had sex was horrible. I didn't want to sleep with him but he was still angry with what he thought my father did to his parents and I paid the price. I was so traumatized that I zoned out and he noticed. Subsequently, he became more gentle, more attentive and soon enough, my body began to crave him until now… I can barely resist him. “What if I help you sleep, huh?” He murmured against my shoulder, his warm breath spreading tingles across my skin. I couldn't say anything in response, my lips parting as desire flooded every part of my body. Marcello spread small kisses all over my back, before stopping to focus on my collarbone and neck area, two of my most sensitive region. I moaned when his hand brushed against my breast, my back arching as I seeked more contact. Without a word, he flipped me over and tore the white sheet from my body, his eyes ravenous as he leaned down to suck on my hardened nipple, all the while holding my gaze. I gasped as his mouth touched my flesh, growing wild. My eyes fluttered closed as I lost myself in the pleasure. Everything was a blur from them on… all I could remember was the sweaty tangle of limbs, me crying out severally as I climax and Marcello's deep groan of satisfaction when he attained his. True to his word, I was so drained out that I blacked out shortly after, only waking up an hour later to the light rustle of clothes. It was Marcello getting ready to leave, hurriedly tucking his shirt into his pants, slicking his dark hair back. “Do you need me to leave?” I ask him, sitting up on my elbows. “If you want to,” he shrugged, sounding nonchalant. I kept silent waiting for him to acknowledge that today was my birthday but he didn't say anything so I got up and fled to the bathroom, clutching the sheets to my chest. My heart felt like someone had taken a hot poker and shoved it into it. I wasn't a sentimental person but two years ago on my birthday, I had lost two of the most important people in my life and while Marcello can never take their place… I do feel alone and miss my extravagant birthday celebrations. Now, my birthday just feels…hollow. I didn't even know tears were rolling down my cheeks until wet dots started appearing on my arm. I sank to the floor, clutching my knees as I cried my eyes out. Marcello showed up, his presence literally sucking the air of the room. “What’s gotten into you this morning?” He groused, sounding perplexed. I raised teary eyes to look at him. “It's my birthday today… and you don't even remember…” His shoulders dropped and he even looked… relieved? “Is that all?” He reached into his blazer and pulled out a black AMEX card, tossing it at me. “There you go, use it to buy whatever you want. I can also instruct Manuel to take you around the city and bring you back when you're done shopping.” My mouth to dropped open and I was shocked at his audacity. Does he actually think that clothes, shopping and expensive things would take away the pain of what I've lost? Of what today will forever remind me of? I grabbed his card and threw it at his stupid, handsome face, only for it to bounce off his chest and fall to the floor. “I don't want your stupid card or your fucking money! I just want freedom. All I want is to… leave. Let me go, Marcello… please…” I begged, tears rolling down my cheeks profusely. This wasn't the first time that I had asked to leave but this time, I really hoped he'd listen to me. Marcello's eyes shuttered and he took a step back. “I have to go. I'll see you in the evening when you're done with your tantrum.” And just like that, he turned around and left, taking the little hope I harboured with him. For the next hour, I didn't move from that spot on the bathroom floor. I cried until my tear ducts dried up. Eventually, I got up but only to lie in bed for the rest of the day. I thought about everything. My former life, my friends, my dreams… my parents. Even after Marcello whisked me away, I managed to keep track on my mom for the first 3 months but then he cut off all communication devices and restricted the TV console. It wasn't until 3 months later that I found out that my Mom died. It was a complication from her injuries that night and she didn't receive the adequate treatments subsequently which led to it worsening until eventually… her body couldn't keep up. And just like that, I was all alone in the world. I must have exhausted myself from all the crying and thinking because I woke up a few hours later and the sun was setting. I turned around in the bed and I saw a note from Clara the housekeeper with strict instructions from Marcello. “I'll be home by 6:00. Get dressed and go to the rooftop, I have a little present for you…” My eyes hit the bedside click and I realized it was past five. I jolted, bolting off the bed to get dressed. One thing about Marcello is that he hates tardiness and whenever I don't comply to his instructions, I get punished for it. My birthday dress was a sparkly red floor length gown that I hated with matching shoes. I left my hair down as I didn't have much time left to properly style it. By the time I showed up on the rooftop, it was 6:05 and Marcello was already standing by the railing, his back to me as he gazed at the city lights twinkling below. Sweat pooled on my forehead and I swallowed, instantly growing nervous. “Sorry, I'm late.” I breathed, moving to stand beside him. He didn't look at me immediately, taking a sip from his wineglass before turning to me. “It’s okay. You look beautiful.” I blinked, thrown off by the compliment. But that wasn't the only thing that was disconcerting… Marcello seemed off. Quiet actually, almost contemplative. I open my mouth to speak but then he placed his hand on my lower back and led me towards the table which was lit up with flower petals and candles. And a small black box tied with a bow. I ignored it and reached for a bowl of salad but Marcello pushed it towards me. “Open it…” he murmured, his eyes roving over my face with a hint of sadness. “No, it's fine. I can open it later,” I say but Marcelo doesn't take his eyes off mine, pushing it towards me again. “No, really… I insist.” Anxiety bubbled up in me but I acquiesced, pulling apart the bow so I could open up the box. It felt slightly anticlimactic as I waited to see what it would hold but to my disappointment, it was only a key. I hold it up, the fading sunlight glinting off the hilt. “What's this for?” “It's for you,” he said simply. “Earlier today, you said you wanted to be free and I'm giving you a key…do you understand now?” My eyes widened, shock and disbelief flooding my system as I pieced together what he was saying. “No… no, this can't…” I trailed off, unable to believe it was real. I glanced at the key and then back at Marcello’s stoic face. “Wait, are you really letting me go?” “Yes,” he answered calmly. “That's the key to the front door. You can take it and walk out of this house right now if you want…” Hope sprang up in me, so much so that I didn't wait for him to finish speaking before I jumped out of my chair and ran towards the front door. I was shaking so badly that it took me three tries before I was able to unlock the door. The door swung open just like Marcello said. I took a second to soak in the fact that I was finally free and in the next second, I picked up my dress and ran like hell. I didn't stop running until I got to the nearest bus stop and since then, I've been running as far away as I can…. and I never looked back.THE WITNESSBRIELLEIgnoring the obvious threat message, I pushed through the entrance and immediately felt cool air wash over me.The lobby was busy enough that nobody paid much attention to another person walking through the doors.Phones rang behind the reception. Elevators opened and closed in steady intervals. Conversations overlapped with the soft click of heels crossing polished floors.Everything looked the same.For months, I had moved through this building without giving it a second thought.I headed toward the reception.The woman behind the desk looked up from her monitor and recognition flashed across her face almost immediately.“Ms Arwen.”“Good evening.”“Good evening.”Her smile remained perfectly professional, but there was something guarded behind it that hadn’t been there before.I rested a hand lightly on the counter.“I was hoping you could help me with something.”“I can try.”The answer sounded harmless enough, but it already felt like the beginning of a refusa
Back in ItalyBrielleThe flight landed just after sunrise.By the time I stepped out of the airport, the sky had become that pale grey-blue shade that always seemed to come before a proper morning. The air felt different from New York’s, cleaner, cooler, carrying a familiarity I hadn’t expected to notice so quickly.I stood beside the curb for a moment with one hand wrapped around the handle of my suitcase, watching taxis pull in and out of the pickup lane while travellers hurried past me in every direction.The suspension from Marcello's company was still hanging over my head. Christopher was still dead. None of that had changed. And yet, despite everything, I had boarded a plane and come back anyway.Because sitting in New York waiting for phone calls and updates clearly wasn’t getting me anywhere.A taxi pulled up in front of me.The driver leaned across the passenger seat and lowered the window.“Taxi?”I nodded and loaded my suitcase into the back.The apartment looked exactly h
Back to Italy“You really need to stop barging into my office, Ms Brielle Arwen,” Thomas said without looking up when I walked in, his pen still moving steadily across the paper like my presence was just another part of the background noise he had learned to work through.I closed the door behind me, not gently enough to be careless and not hard enough to be aggressive, just enough to signal that I wasn’t planning on leaving quickly.“Good morning to you too,” I replied, and that finally earned me a look from him. It wasn’t friendly, it was tired, like he already knew I was about to drain his patience.“You didn’t schedule this,” he said.“I knocked,” I answered.He stopped writing at that, finally setting the pen down. “After you opened the door.”I gave a small shrug of apology. “I was impatient.”“That’s not new,” he muttered, already leaning back slightly in his chair as if preparing himself for whatever I had brought in with me.I stepped further into the office, taking in the fa
The GapBrielleThe email sat open on my laptop long after the call ended.I had already looked at the image more times than I could count, but my eyes kept returning to it anyway. It showed Christopher walking out of the building alive, caught in a single frozen frame. The timestamp in the corner read 18:42, clear enough to make the whole thing feel real in a way Thomas’s phone call never had.I zoomed in again.The image blurred briefly before sharpening. Christopher looked relaxed apart from the limping. He wasn’t rushing anywhere, and there was nothing nervous or distracted about the way he carried himself.One hand rested in his coat pocket while his head tilted slightly downward, as though he were reading something on his phone or thinking about where he needed to be next.Nothing about him looked like a man walking toward his death.I leaned back in my chair and rubbed at my eyes.The apartment was quiet. Alessia had disappeared into her room hours ago, and Camilla had gone out
The Last TimestampBrielle“Mommy, you’re cheating,” Alessia said.I looked up from the board and found her pointing at me from across the small table. I frowned a little, already tired of the accusation.“I am not cheating.”“You moved twice.”“I moved once.”“Twice.”“Once.”Camilla snorted into her mug, watching us like she was enjoying it more than she should.“I watched you do it Bri.”I stared at both of them for a second.Traitors.Alessia immediately grinned and pushed one of the game pieces forward with the confidence of someone who had already decided she was winning no matter what I said.For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t thinking about investigations, suspensions, or Christopher. I was thinking about how a six-year-old had somehow become impossible to beat at board games.“Your turn,” Alessia said.I looked down at the board again, then back at her, narrowing my eyes slightly. “I’m starting to think you’re making up rules.”“That’s because you’re losin
Last ContactBrielleThe room didn’t change after Thomas said it, but I did. At least something inside me did, because “Christopher is dead” didn’t feel like information.It felt like something that hadn’t fully landed yet, like my brain was still waiting for another version of the sentence that would make it less impossible.But there wasn’t one. Just silence on his end and noise on mine.Alessia’s voice came in the background asking Camilla something about a cartoon, mixed with the faint sound of movement in the living room.I stood still, gripping the phone tighter. My mouth opened, but nothing came out at first because it didn’t feel real enough to respond to.Then I forced it.“…say that again.”My voice sounded flat and detached, like it didn’t belong to me.Thomas didn’t hesitate this time.“Christopher is dead.”There was no softness in how he said it. No pausing just finality.I closed my eyes for a second, not because I was emotional, but because my body needed something to
SuspendedBrielleThe silence after his words didn’t feel empty.It felt deliberate.“You were the last person seen near the executive archives…”I kept my expression steady even though my thoughts didn’t move with the same control.Last person seen.That phrasing sat strangely in my chest, not qui
The Last Person SeenThe drawing was folded neatly inside my handbag.I had checked three times before boarding to make sure that it was still there.Not because I thought it would disappear, but because looking at it somehow made leaving easier.Or maybe harder.I still hadn’t decided.The paper w
THE PHOTOGRAPHBrielleFor one horrible second, I simply stared.Tiny shards of glass glittered across the hardwood floor. The photograph lay face down among the debris, its frame split cleanly.Slowly, my eyes lifted.Arlo De Ville hadn’t moved from where he stood.If anything, his expression had
Behind Closed DoorsBrielleDinner was just as uncomfortable as I had expected it to be, maybe even worse in ways I couldn’t immediately name.The dining room itself was big. large enough to host a wedding reception but somehow, the table was small enough that everyone was close enough to pass the







