Footsteps pounded behind Camilla. How the heck was he so fast? He sounded close, but she didn’t look back to confirm her suspicions. A sudden pressure on her hair made her screech to a stop. Pain spread through her scalp, and she bit into her lip to stop herself from screaming. The copper taste of blood filled her mouth. She placed both hands on her head to ease the pain.
The pressure finally reduced, but the pain lingered. Vanya stopped in front of her, the ends of her long ponytail wrapped around his fist. Her breath rushed out in ragged pants. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.
Camilla took one step back, but the tug on her hair reminded her she wouldn’t get far. She had always prided herself on her long hair, but now she wished it wasn’t lengthy.
“Let. Go,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“The phone.”
“No.”
Vanya reached for her handbag, his hand tight around the strap. She tried to yank it from his grip, but it was nearly impossible. His grip was steel. They struggled, mostly her. He stared on in amusement as she tried and failed woefully to extricate her bag from his grasp. She would fucking sue him.
“This is harassment.”
“Making unsolicited videos of strangers while they shop is harassment,” Vanya replied. He had an accent, but she couldn’t place it. Faye never mentioned that. “Are you going to give it to me like a sane woman, or do I need to force it from you? Your choice. You seem to love the chase.”
It took a nanosecond for Camilla to decide. She let go of the bag, and his lips twitched. He grabbed the bag from under and emptied the content to the floor. Camilla winced as her makeup, dollar bills, phone, and packets of bubble gum rolled out of it. That makeup was expensive. Her phone, too. He sifted through the mess with his leather shoe, and she internally died. So classless. So brutal. So senseless. So rude.
“Can you be more careful?” Camilla said. He crouched to pick up her phone. “Did no one tell you not to search a lady’s bag?”
Vanya scoffed, rising to his feet with her phone. “Lady? You obviously don’t know the meaning of that word or how to be one. Ladies don’t snoop. Ladies mind their business.” Her lips parted in a rebuttal that never came because he said, “Password.”
“No.” She tipped her chin back. “Nope.”
The first sign of emotions flashed across his face. “Are you always this adamant? It’s getting boring. What’s the password?”
“Give me the phone, and I’ll put it myself.”
Vanya handed it over, and a small sound of shock escaped her. She couldn’t believe he gave it up that easily. He clicked his tongue at her expression, and she glared in return.
“I’m bigger, faster, and stronger than you. You’re only leaving here if I let you,” he said. It was the only reminder she needed to know not to mess with him. He nodded at the phone. He was so close. “Password.”
After unlocking the phone, Camilla didn’t return it to him. She held it close to her chest. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Phone,” he commanded.
Her hands shook as she handed it over. She bobbed on the spot as he scrolled through her photos. Maybe she should have left as soon as he walked in. But this only proved her point. Vanya wasn’t good for Faye. He finished and exhaled. She licked her bottom lip, her mind blank from worrying.
Vanya looked up and stretched his hand.
“What now?” she asked.
“Earring.”
Camilla blinked in shock. However tiny the earrings looked, they were expensive. If he wanted his, he could get it himself instead of demanding hers. “My-my earrings?”
Vanya continued staring, and she unclipped the first one. “One is enough,” he muttered.
“This-this is harassment,” Camilla repeated. But he said nothing to her. She had no choice but to drop the earring on his palm. “You could be arrested for this. You have ruined this boutique because I’ll sue every single person in this building.”
Camilla might as well have been talking to a human statue. Vanya was quiet until he had ejected her SIM card tray and the SIM. What-what was this man doing? He offered her the earring alongside the SIM card and tray. Camilla didn’t know why she stepped back, but she backed away from the man.
“Van—” Camilla stopped mid-statement, a scream tearing out of her lips as Vanya smashed her phone on the tiled floor. She charged for him, her hands aimed at his face. She would scratch out his eyes. “Are you insane? You are ruining my phone.”
His foot came down on the screen, and it shattered even more. “Exactly the point.”
Camilla fisted her hands and let out a soundless scream. God. Her chest caved, and she struggled to let out air. She wasn’t a violent woman, but she wanted to hurt this man. To walk over him with her heels.
Vanya finished packing her stuff into her handbag and handed it to her. She glared at it. No way she wanted to touch it. Not after his filthy hands were all over it. “Next time, kot, mind your business. Is that clear?”
““I’m not kot,” she spat out. “Or whatever that is.”
Vanya shoved the bag to her chest, and she staggered. She grabbed it before it could fall, and the foolish man had the audacity to bare his teeth to her in what she interpreted to be his triumphant grin.
“Oh yes, you are,” Vanya told her. “Only cats sneak up on people like that.”
Seething was the only thing Camilla could do. Vanya walked away, stopping at the top of the stairs to give a curt nod. Animal. He disappeared, and she looked around for her phone. It could be fixed. She would fix it. He couldn’t stop her from telling Faye who he really was. Her search was futile. The bastard must have taken the phone.
Camilla rushed to the stairs, but Vanya was downstairs. Seeing the man on a call, so relaxed after how he treated her, made her chest constrict with anger. She removed her shoe, hoping to God her aim today was accurate as she swung it in his direction.
Laughter burst out of her lips as the shoe connected with the back of Vanya’s head. He turned, his eyes narrowed as he found the culprit. She stood straighter, her smile so big her cheeks ached. Vanya picked up the black heel, holding it up by its strap.
How was that for being a sneaky cat?
He ended his call and pocketed the phone. “Good throw,” he told her. Camilla’s smile slowly wiped off her face. “I’ll keep this.”
She stared at her bare foot. “No. No way.”
Vanya lifted his hand in a brusque wave, and soon he was gone. No, no, he took her shoe. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Camilla was in deep shit. There were two options: limping out of the boutique or walking out barefooted. Both options were displeasing, especially for someone of her calibre. The paparazzi would have a feast at her expense. Her parents would disapprove. She had gone months without getting into trouble. She couldn’t do this to herself now.
Slipping the other shoe off her foot, Camilla began the shameful walk to the door. She ignored the receptionists in the lobby. They would so get sued. All of them, including the man who opened the door for her. How would she get to her driver? Stepping out of the boutique, she hugged herself as the cold air rustled her jacket and dress. There weren’t many people around now, but she stayed close to the cars lining the street so people wouldn’t notice her bare feet.
“Faye, your boyfriend is a terrorist,” she sang as she passed cars. “A terrorist.”
A car door slammed shut in front. The car looked familiar from here, but she needed to get close to confirm it was hers. Her parents just gifted it to her for Christmas. A tall man exited the black Mustang. Alvin looked back, and Camilla almost cried in relief. Her driver. Finally. Someone to help.
Camilla waved frantically until he noticed her. He frowned, his confusion not as cute as she always found it. She beckoned on him to come. The moment he appeared in front of her and noticed her feet, he picked her up bridal style.
“I didn’t say carry me,” she muttered into his chest, thankful for the reprieve. At the risk of sounding spoilt, this was one of the harshest things she had been subjected to.
“You have no shoes, ma’am.”
Neither did she feel like trekking. They got to the car, and Alvin tucked her into the backseat. “Thanks, Alvin,” she told him before he left for the driver’s seat. “Don’t tell anyone. Not even my parents, okay?”
“Understood.”
Camilla’s parents had recommended Alvin to her, so a part of her suspected he was spying on her for them. She couldn’t blame them for not fully trusting her. Among their three kids, she was the most reckless and probably the brattiest. But she was trying now. She had kept her current job for six long months. And she could continue if she remained on track. Filming would begin next month. She might have gotten the position because of her twin brother, Calvin, but she had proved her importance.
“Where to, ma’am?” Alvin asked.
Camilla placed her feet on the seat. They ached. She was sure blisters would form soon. “I lost my phone. Can you call Faye? We are supposed to meet up somewhere.”
“Will do.”
“I also need to make a stop for a new pair of shoes. Or maybe I’ll get some slippers.”
“Noted, ma’am. Anything else?”
Camilla shook her head and stopped. “Just so you know, Faye’s boyfriend is a terrorist.”
Alvin held her eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded. “Right. I’ll give her a call in one minute. But just to be clear, ma’am, you understand the definition of terrorist?”
“Right, Alvin.” Waving off the remark, she flashed him a fake smile. “Ignore me. Just call her.”
“Calling her now.”
While they both waited for the call to connect, Camilla spent that time imagining the many ways she would end Vanya’s life.
* * * GLOSSARY * * *
Kot: Cat
Faye was already at the venue they agreed to meet when Camilla arrived in her new flat sandals. Alvin was waiting in the car for her to show up. This meeting wouldn’t last long if she had her way. It was early in the evening, and the ceiling was lighted by green and blue lanterns. Her feet ached, but not as much as it did earlier. Murmurs from the other diners in the closed garden had her rethinking her manner of approach.Her best friend wasn’t alone. Faye was at a round table of three, but one seat was empty. The other person was backing Camilla. She could bet it was Vanya. The idiot didn’t bother changing his black suit. She stormed to them, ignoring waiters and other people as she approached the table.Faye smiled as she stopped. “Hey—”Camilla interrupted by dropping her bag on the table. Vanya frowned. He was going to pretend he didn’t ransack this same bag hours ago? Alright then. She unclipped her earrings, almost stabbing him in the eyes with them.“Cam,” Faye began, but Cami
KJ didn’t return until three days later. The moment the front door opened to reveal her younger brother, Camilla sent a pillow flying at his head. He caught it and winked, and she was reminded of Vanya’s wicked smile when he caught her shoe.“You are such a prostitute,” she stated.“I thought we agreed the right term was fuckboy,” KJ answered, laughed at the disgusted face she made. Tossing the pillow to a couch, he slumped into it and kicked out his legs. The scarf around his neck came off first, followed by his jacket. “Yo, Cam. You girls are really wild.”“I’m not wild,” Camilla retorted. Snatching the remote off the table, she flipped to the first channel that interested her. “Where were you? Wait, keep your answer PG-13.”KJ stood, his loafers dragging across the rug as he bridged the gap. Touching her shirt, he blinked a few times. “Jesus Christ. Is that my shirt? I told you to stay away—”“From the designers,” Camilla finished. It was the exact spot she got this. The cotton mat
Faye was curled in a ball on their living room floor when Camilla raced into their house. A foul stench slammed into her, but she ignored it as she sank onto the rug, pulling her best friend’s head to her lap. From the state of the living room: the pile of dirty plates and cups, rumpled notes strewn over the floor and couches, she could make one conclusion. Faye didn’t get the bad news about her boyfriend today.“What’s going on?” Camilla whispered. She stroked her friend’s greasy hair, careful not to tug on the knots. “Talk to me.”Faye adjusted, lying flat on her back as her red-rimmed eyes met Camilla’s clear ones.“Vanya is getting married.”“What do you mean he’s getting married?” Camilla asked. Her best friend had said it a few times that she wasn’t keen on a marriage until she had at least gotten her MSc. “To you? You didn’t tell me that.”“Not to me, Cam. Pay attention,” Faye snapped. Camilla almost chuckled. She was always the dramatic one or girl in need. Switching roles fel
Friday came faster than Camilla thought it would. Calvin had tried and failed to talk her out of her plan for revenge. Everything she needed for the wedding was in her bag. If she had her way, that wedding would end in tears. That was if it even happened.Camilla’s door opened, and Faye walked into her room wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. Her mouth fell open in shock.“What is this?” Camilla asked, pointing her makeup brush at the mirror. The past few days had been kinder to Faye. Her friend wasn’t eating as much, but her hygiene had improved. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?” Faye sat on the bed, the blanket hiding her frame. Her friend had lost weight in days while her ex partied constantly. His social media posts were proof. Vanya must pay. “Cam, I think we should let it go,” Faye whispered. Camilla dropped the brush on the table and turned so she was directly facing her best friend. “We only dated for two years. Some women had it worse.” “Are you, are you for real now?” Camill
Sweat gathered on Camilla’s palms. She brushed them over her dress and nodded. “Yes.”Their eyes met, and he nodded. Pulling her into a brief hug, he said, “I really tried, Cam.”Camilla smiled against his neck and broke the hug. He stayed back in the car while she sashayed to the entrance with as much confidence as she could. Calvin was watching her, so she couldn’t fuck up. One of the men at the door stretched out an arm to stop her from entering the church.They didn’t speak to her, their lips tilted in a grim smile. Everything in her head yelled at her to turn back and join her brother. It wasn’t too late. But she ransacked her bag for the invite Calvin gave her and offered it to the man on her left. He took a long look at it and nodded. The man on the right opened the door, and she stepped into the church. The doors shut behind her, and her heart drummed faster.Why did she feel like she had walke
Maksim was livid. He had been since they left Nightfall Hills. He paced his office, going unbelievably still when his right-hand man, Ivan, entered. The curtains were closed, how he liked it, and the entire place was dark, save for the corner light and lamp on the table. He snapped his fingers, a sign for the man to talk immediately.“Did you find her yet?” he asked.Ivan stood at ease, a wire curling from his ear to inside his suit collar. “Not yet, boss.”Rage coursed through Maksim’s veins. He sank into his chair and laughed bitterly.“Boss?” Maksim said, disgust slithering into his voice. He gripped the armrests so hard his nails broke. God help that lady because if he found her, he would wipe her off the face of the earth. She should have taken the subtle warning the priest gave him. No one, not even the don, the Grand Sinner himself, could end a wedding. “You have twelve hours to find that young
Photos was the first app Maksim checked. She had too many pictures for him to sift through. Nothing in there showed her name. Just tons of pictures of her in different poses and various hairstyles.She was pretty. But weren’t the evil ones always the prettiest? Who sent her to him?Soft knocks on the door had him shoving the ring and test into his drawer. He asked the person to enter, and a maid walked in with her head bowed down. Her black-and-white uniform creased as she bent to tilt the dead man’s head. He never killed senselessly, but Boris’ death would serve as a warning to everyone. If he could kill his own men, how much more a foe?Two men entered after the maid. He waved off their greetings as they dragged the dead body out of his office. The maid quietly cleaned as he resumed searching the phone. He could easily guess who the maids next subject of gossip would be. Him. As long as they served the meals and made themselves availabl
Maksim spat out blood. Poor maid. She would have to redo the cleaning. Pinching his nose to ease the bleeding, he grabbed the tissue box on the table and stuffed some of it up his nostrils. Papa drew closer, but Maksim stood his ground, ready for another attack. He should have expected the first.“She was right,” Papa said, stabbing him in the chest with his finger. “You’re a bastard.”“Papa.”“Don’t call me that.”“I. Don’t. Know her,” Maksim said.The lines on Papa’s forehead deepened, a sign that this was a futile conversation. His father always believed the worst of him. Why should today be different? He had long accepted that fate. Gently pulling out the soiled tissue, he tossed it to the trashcan by the door and sank down on the table.“One bastard is enough for the family,” Papa said. “You don’t know her, yet she&rsq