The Lion's Den

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I'm beginning to regret the idea of ever coming here when I see the smirk widening on her lips. Why in the world would she be happy to see me here? And then again, she isn't pleased. She has a mischievous smile on her lips that makes me immediately doubt her intentions when I'm the one that came here with particular intentions.

"Don't just stand there, little thing. Do come in." She elegantly invites me into her luxurious house with a swing of her arm that leaves her robe floating through the air a moment.

I'm immediately annoyed, and I remind myself of all the hate I have always felt towards her. Marcel had sort of tamed that fire when he informed me that the time he was spending with her was, in fact, to work on his story. I have always seen her as a threat to him and his sanity. But she has been working with him, so she has been helping him instead. But has she really helped him? That's what he seems to think, but I have never seen him change apart from him falling deeper into her nets. I know it's to accomplish his career, but is it really worth the price of his soul? She has her claws so deeply into him, I need to figure this out on my own. If I hadn't come here tonight, I would have always stayed in the dark, and since I want to spend more of my time with Marcel, I need to know his deepest and darkest secrets. And that starts by getting to know her and her relationship with him. What has it been like from her point of view?

I decided to abstain from responding to her like I would probably have done usually and get inside her house. The air is warm, and it's unsettling. It's voluntarily warmer than any other typical housing climate.

"Is something in the oven?" I ask her, getting alarmed at the high temperature.

"Oh no, darling. I just like it hot." She responds with the same smirk she has welcomed me with. "The hotter the temperature, less are the clothes I have to wear."

I roll my eyes and turn my head so she doesn't notice my attitude. I feel a bit awkward, but I have to remember I'm the one in control here, not her. I came here. I want something from her. And that is answers.

"Yes, well, I came here for a reason," I tell her directly, meaning business.

I think she gets it. She straightens herself and leans her head to the side to look at me and considers the situation. She seems to be very analytical, something I should have probably noticed before.

"Alright. You seem to have come here with a plan. Tell me what you had in mind."

She doesn't fight me, on the contrary, and that destabilises me a lot. I came here with a more combative spirit, which threw me out of my game. Maybe I should be more understanding of her being so open and sociable to little old me coming here with my head full of vengeance and an attitude full of arrogance.

"I've read Marcel's novel."

"Oh, he's told you about that."

"He tells me everything." I lie instantly, somewhat trying to show her the strength of Mace and I's bond.

"Oh, he does, doesn't he?!" She clearly mocks me with a laugh. It makes me absolutely livid.

I don't respond to anything. I simply look at her for a moment and reach inside my bag to show her the manuscript. I throw it on the coffee table in between our seats. It slides before her with a loud sound that echoes through the room.

She simply leans in and smiles before falling back into her seat, her legs crossed elegantly. Her poise is too confident for my taste. Even though I have always despised her, knowing she mainly met Marcel to work on his story, tamed that hatred towards her. But having her in front of me reminds me of everything that I loathe about her. She makes me feel like she wants and needs to feel superior to me. It makes me cringe. But it's precisely what she is doing right now.

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