Fatal Alliances: Chapter 43

Rocillie stood in front of us with a refined smile. Rocillie, my father.

“How are you, darling?” He suddenly asked me in a very graceful tone of voice.

I had no words. It was as if I was unable to breathe at the moment. Almost as if he had expected that response from me, he continued turning to the others, “Well, we shouldn’t waste any more time. Why don’t we go into the conference room? Such matters shouldn’t be discussed here.”

Pulling slightly away from Finny, I felt cautious of this man, of everything. He knew about our whereabouts, what we were probably trying to achieve, to finish. And when he said the last part, he aimed it directly at Adrian. I carefully walked with everyone to whatever conference room he had in his house. There was this gut-wrenching feeling that diffused within me like acidic venom. I didn’t like this. As he opened the door, my heart nearly dropped to my feet. What I saw, who I saw. Donnie slumped down in pain holding his stomach while blood rained from his forehead. I was petrified, I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I was too terrified to even do that.

“Donnie!” I panicked somehow finding my voice and scampering towards him. I knew the others wanted to do the same but the look that Rocillie was portraying told them otherwise.

“I-I’m fine,” Donnie assured me, feigning a smile.

“What is this?” Adrian asked, his voice surprisingly cool and collected as if he hadn’t been fazed by this.

“No-no Mr. Vandermir, it’s me who should be asking that question.” Rocillie replied, taking up a folder from the top of the table, “This was our partnership document on our project in Switzerland, right? Or was it a way you could coax me into signing my part off the Covert Partnership? And this?” He continued, taking up another folder from the table with his other hand and looking at me as he spoke sharply, “This was for her to dismiss her part as well since she’s the Lucien, no?”

Vandermir didn’t answer, but his serious nonchalant expression never faltered as well. Nothing seemed to be affecting him at the moment. Wasn’t he angry at least? He remained as if he had everything in control.

“I must admit boy, you’re clever.” Rocillie laughed, “I actually like you. Tell you what, I’ll sign it.”

“Father! What are you doing?” Lucas shouted harshly, slightly panicked.

“I’m not done.” Rocillie iced, “I’ll sign it on one condition.”

Ricardo, taking a step forward with kitted eyebrows, upheld a serious tone, “And what’s that?”

“My daughter stays.”

What? What did he just say?  

Fear trickled through my body, consumed me, chewed me, digested me, spat me back out, and swallowed me again. God, I felt sick. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Why would he want me to stay?

“Agreed.” Adrian’s voice pierced through me like an ice dagger.

What? No! What was he saying?

Shooting myself up, he locked his eyes with mine. Nothing. There was no remorse, no anything. It was as if nothing mattered to him, except finishing this partnership. But that’s what always mattered, wasn’t it? That was his goal. Nothing else mattered. As he said, he’d do anything to get it over with. Even if it meant doing this to me? Was he really that heartless? No, he wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t just leave me here. But somehow, the look in his eyes was so cold and insensitive, somehow I had a feeling he would. It hurt, it pained to know after everything he… Why was I feeling like this? This stupid heartache…

“You’ll stay.” He said apathetically to me.

“A-Adrian.” Finny protested.

Ignoring him, he turned to Rocillie with a harsh look, “Now sign it.”

“With pleasure.” The man replied, doing as he said with a sly smile upon his face.

There was this silence. I felt numb. Unreal. Lost. Donnie and Ricardo held faces of disbelief. Maybe it was because of Vandermir’s decision? Or maybe it was because they just found out I was Rocillie’s daughter.

 Lucas and Melissa stood at the side silently, but Lucas’s face reflected discontent, confusion, anger. Honestly, I felt as if I was about to drop dead.

With a deep contented sigh, Rocillie stood from where he was casually sitting on the table, “Now that that’s settled, perhaps Juliet should sign her part.”

Giving Adrian the folder with my part, he wickedly smiled, “I must thank you. You took excellent care of her. Maybe you should say goodbye to each other.”

With that, he left the room along with Lucas and Melissa. Finny was hesitant to leave, but Ricardo needed help to get Donnie to a doctor, leaving me alone with Adrian. I didn’t even want to look at him. It was too painful. I knew if I did I would probably… no, he couldn’t see me like that. If Vandermir didn’t care, then why should I? All this time I was just being used, nothing mattered to him except this bloody partnership! How could he even think like that? How could he treat me like a little helpless child? I wasn’t! I wasn’t helpless. He can’t just decide to leave me wherever he wants. I’m not a dog he can just order to stay. I’m not a toy he could just throw away.

“Miss Greene.” He said, giving me the folder.

I remembered. I remembered the time when I held my hand out for him to shake. When he told me this wasn’t a business deal. I guess that’s what it was, after all. I could spite him and not sign this, but how would that make a difference? Revenge wasn’t something I liked to be a part of. I didn’t want to stoop to that level. Trying to steady my shaking hand, I brought the pen to the paper. It was over. The partnership. Everything.

I signed it.

Daring myself to look at him, his blazing grey eye, his aristocratic demeanor. I wasn’t swayed by that, I saw inside his soul, how unfeeling and damaged he was. No, I didn’t hate him. I pitied him now. Who he actually was.

I wanted to shout at him. I couldn’t. No, I didn’t want to. I was just feeling so wounded at the moment, I couldn’t. I didn’t. I’ve never felt like this before. Somewhat betrayed. I knew my eyes were getting damp. No, he couldn’t see me like this. It just made me so mad, yet I still felt so stabbed and tortured inside. He made me feel like this. Throwing the folder at him, I darted out of the room. I couldn’t even stand to see his face again. It was enough.

I didn’t even know this place. Where on earth was I even headed? All I knew was that I was running away from him. I didn’t want to ever see that man again. Never. The hallway seemed endless. There were so many rooms, gosh, where was I really going? For a moment, I stopped and looked around the empty hallway. I could hear the distant music from the hall downstairs. Would this be the last time I ever saw Finny again? Donnie? Ricardo? They must hate me. I mean, why would they want to have anything to do with the daughter of the man who ruined their lives, broke their families, and hurt them? Adrian turned out to be the biggest liar of them all. Maybe he did this because he really did hate me after all.

“Miss?”

Quickly turning around, I saw a middle-age housemaid exiting a room and walking towards me.

“Are you lost?” She asked sweetly.

“I- I-” I stammered.

I was lost on many different levels of mentality at the moment.

“Come on, let me take you to a room to rest. You’re Mr. Rocillie’s daughter, right?”

The rest didn’t sound so bad. I just felt so faint right now. Maybe I needed some rest after all. No, how could I stay here? In a place like this? I had to get out, these people were dangerous. Almost as if reading my mind, the housemaid gave me a warm smile, “Don’t worry dear, I assure you that no one could harm you in this house.”

Wow, was that a joke? Because somehow, I found it extremely unbelievable.

Nonetheless, I followed her to a large, tidy room. It was already late, and my means of transport at this time seemed very low. Besides, something told me that if I left, then Rocillie wouldn’t be that happy. What if I do that and he ends up getting someone I love, killed? No, I couldn’t risk it. That man was dangerous, I can’t leave. Not yet, at least. When the maid left, I sat at the edge of the bed, playing with the end of my dress nervously. What’s going to happen to me? About ten minutes later, I heard a slight knock on the door and she came back.

“Here you are, Miss. You’ll be in need of these,” she stated placing a stack of clothes on the bed.

How long did that man plan to keep me here? I wasn’t a hostage. I could leave, couldn’t I?

“What’s the matter?” She asked me, “Don’t you like these?”

“No- no it’s not that.” I assured her, “Thank you.”

“Well, you should probably get some rest, madam.”

“Wait.” I called out to her before she left the room, “I… these people. They-” 

“Are very different, but I shall tell you miss, do be careful around your brother. He has a bit of a temper.”

No Shiz.

With that, she left. Well, different was a bit vague to me. I tried to close my eyes, but all I kept doing was looking at the ceiling and replaying what had happened a few hours ago. Every minute that passed seemed to stab me like a needle in the heart. Was the party over? Was I ever going to see my family again? My family? Rocillie… Lucas… Melissa? No. I didn’t want them to be my family. I wanted to go back, I wanted to go back when life was simpler. When my only problem was trying to break in a new pair of shoes, when I googled new ways to wear my hair or make French pastries, I wanted to go back to that time. I wanted to be with Jenna and Nina and Mrs. Dawnly.  I wanted them to be my family, my real family.

The room, though so very spacious, seemed like it was suffocating me. It seemed like it was closing in. I couldn’t breathe, I needed to get out. Get out of this aloneness. Opening the door, I exited the room, only to be surrounded by more aloneness. Guess I couldn’t run away from it. Walking carefully along the hall, I heard the subtle sound of a song. I knew that song; beautiful, haunting. My mother used to play that long ago. She used to play it to me, sometimes hum it to me every night as a lullaby so I could sleep. Weird, because it used to scare Jenna, but I loved it. It was such a lovely song. Coming from inside a dimly lit room that was left ajar, I felt as if the song was calling me, almost like a moth to a flame. It brought back so many memories, memories of my mother. Slightly pushing the door, I neared the balcony of the room when I noticed that in the dark a man sat next to an old record player listening to the song.

God, I shouldn’t have come in here. Panic consumed me, I should leave. Just as I was about to turn around, the man spoke in a calm silky voice, “Leaving so soon, dear?”

Rocillie.

How did he even know it was me? His back was turned as he was looking at the night sky, almost as if waiting for something to happen. He knew I was here, not answering him wasn’t the best option, either.

“Are you scared of me, Juliet?” His voice rose again but kept its tranquillity.

“N-no,” I stammered nervously with a hint of fear, deceiving my statement.

“Then come in front of me. I want to see you.”

I wanted to run away. Run out of the room and probably hide under the bed. I was never afraid of anyone in my entire life, but he… something about this man scared me. My heart hammered so much within my chest, I suddenly felt like it was beating so quickly it would just stop abruptly in exhaustion.

“There you are.” He smiled as I stood like a petrified child in front of him, “You look just like your mother. Big beautiful doe eyes, silky black hair, and that incomparable porcelain complexion. What a doll.”

“I- I should really get back,” I said with a tremble.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, darling.”

Not be afraid of him? He was the man that had families murdered, hurt so many people, made them suffer. And he was telling me not to be afraid of him? He was the reason, the main cause of every mishap I knew about. He was the root of everything.

“Have a seat.” He stated. Something about the way he said that almost seemed like an order. Hesitantly, I did as he said. “You must be hungry, why don’t you eat?” He insisted, pushing the tray of assorted croissants and mini quiches towards me. 

As much as I wanted to refuse him, I was hungry. So very darn hungry. I hadn’t even eaten anything since well- I honestly can’t remember. Cautiously, I took up one of the croissants and bit into it. Gosh, that was good. The feeling of food going down your throat and into your stomach when you needed it was euphoric. Maybe I looked like a ravenous pig in front of him, but oh well, I couldn’t help it.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked pouring some wine into a glass for me.

“No!” I stopped him with my teeth sinking halfway into a Kaiser roll, “I mean- uh- it’s okay. I don’t drink.”

“Of course,” He chuckled, “What kind of father would I be to encourage my daughter to consume alcohol?”

It was a bit odd hearing him say that to me. This man was dangerous, I should be careful. He was the bad guy, I wasn’t supposed to even be anywhere around him, but he was my birth father after all. That probably made things all the weirder for me. The way he looked at the moment though didn’t seem too frightening, with the moonlight shining down and the low balcony dimmer highlighting everything, maybe a person might think it would be a bit eerie, but it wasn’t. He sat in splendor as if nothing could touch him, affect him, and bother him. Somehow that reminded me of Adrian.

No- don’t think about him. Just forget him.

Pushing my thoughts away from Vandermir, I looked at Rocillie, who was sitting at the opposite side of the small table and looking at the night sky. Why did he do it? Why did he sign the partnership? Wasn’t that like his big money-making basis? Wasn’t that the reason he killed and hurt others in the first place? Wasn’t it because he didn’t want it to end, that he did all those sinful things? So why? Why did he just throw it away that easily? He literally offered to end it? That too, without a fight? I didn’t know if I could bring myself to even say a word to him. It seemed like a difficult and dreadful task just being alone with him. Sucking up my nervousness, I dared myself to speak to him- to ask him.

“Why did you do it?”

Upon hearing that, his lips formed a long-awaited smirk, “I was wondering when you were going to ask that.”

“Is this some kind of trick you’re up to?” I asked dreadfully.

“Now why would I play a trick on you?”

“Because you’re you,” I stated a bit harshly.

“Oh? And what’s that supposed to mean?” He questioned, this time in a somewhat teasing manner.

“It means that you’re still a shrewd man who had hurt, killed, and destroyed families.”

“Is that what you think of me, Juliet?” He asked elegantly, raising an eyebrow at me.

“That’s what I’ve heard, but I judge for myself. And right now, you’re not on my nice list.”

“Santa’s little helper, aren’t you?” He gave a soft short laugh, “Well, I don’t deny the rumours.”

It was true then, everything about this man was true. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t deny what he did, he committed all those sins, done such horrible things. For some reason I wanted to blame him for my mother’s death, I wanted to hate him personally, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that because he wasn’t the one that killed my mother. Bronte did.

“Why didn’t you kill him?” I asked wanting to know the answer for this question so badly, “If you loved her so much, then why didn’t you kill him for doing what he did?”

“Who?”

“Bronte.”

“Michael Bronte.” He smiled and closed his eye as if he was remembering a memory, “I haven’t heard about him in such a long time. How is he?”

“Locked up.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know about this!”

Rocillie turned to me with an amused face, “It is astonishing you can read me like that.”

“I am your daughter after all.” I scowled.

“You are. And you’re right, I did know about what Bronte did, what he was going to do to you. That’s why I had my men look after you.”

“You mean stalk.” I scoffed.

“Now, I wouldn’t go there.” He lightly warned, “You were traveling alone with a young man. What father would approve of that?”

“Stop calling yourself my father. And stop pretending like you care, because if you did, you would’ve met me years ago.”

I noticed that he slightly flinched when I said that. “I didn’t know you were alive.” He answered, almost as if he was hurt, or maybe it was my imagination, “When I found out, I had my men go after you.”

His men, I remembered, at the Floris hotel.

“You had them make me jump off a bloody building!” I shouted.

“I didn’t make you jump, that was your choice. But I must admit, they were idiots to hire.”

“You realized that just now?”

He gave a tired sigh, “One shouldn’t dwell so much on the past. And as for Bronte, I didn’t kill him, only because your mother had made me promise not to.”

“But he killed her!”

“She had a child with him, didn’t she?” Rocillie looked at me in a somewhat stern way. I then realized that I was basically arguing with the man because he didn’t murder someone. Wow, this argument of mine deserved an award.   

“He left us.”

“What Michael did after was none of my concern. And like I said, I thought you were dead.” He stated as he took a drink from his glass, “Your mother trusted the wrong person, Juliet, she thought I would hurt her, but it’s Bronte who did. He deceived her, not me.”

“Still, you’ve hurt others, Finny’s parents, Donnie’s, Ricardo’s, Adrian’s. It doesn’t make you any better than him.”

“Ah,” Rocillie smiled, “Adrian Vandermir is such a cunning boy.”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” I stated harshly.

He looked at me with his flickering blue eyes and gave a small chuckle as if he understood something that I didn’t, “You misunderstand him.”

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about him!”

“He’s hurt you, I know.”

“No, you don’t know! You don’t know how I feel right now!” I blurted out. It was completely humiliating that I just said that to Rocillie. God, out of all the possible people I could make a fool of myself in front of.

“My, I don’t want to tease but you sound like a teenage girl,” He said with a suppressed laugh, “Not all stories are straightforward, Juliet, some actions have more reason than you think them not to have.”

God, he too with that crazy ‘reason behind every action’ ideology shit?

“Well whatever that story is, I’m totally shipping you and Vandermir,” I said with an annoyed frown.

Rocillie looked at me carefully, not as a villain or brute, but as an actual father would. It made me feel very strange inside. I wasn’t afraid of him. I didn’t want to run away and hide from him. Was that bad? Was it unhealthy that I wasn’t scared of him? Why would I be, anyway? He was my father after all. But Bronte also was, yet he wanted to kill me in the end.

I realized something that moment, I realized that I was in the same situation my mother was in, years ago. I trusted Bronte, whom I thought wouldn’t hurt me, yet he did and now there was Rocillie, who I had every reason not to trust, yet if I didn’t I would be making the same mistake my mother did in the past. My mother trusted the wrong person. She didn’t trust Rocillie, she trusted Bronte and met her death because of that mistake. She didn’t trust Rocillie, the person she should’ve trusted regardless of the circumstances. Maybe if she did, she would have still been alive today.

“You didn’t answer me.” I reminded him.

“What didn’t I answer?”

“The reason why you did it. Why you ended the partnership.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in that business, Juliet. It’s time I retire from all this.”

“What’s the real reason?” I asked in disbelief of his first answer, which made him give a short laugh.

He turned to look straight ahead at the empty night sky and leaned back on his chair, “You want me to be punished, right? Well, I assure you I am. A slow and painful punishment.”

“What are you talking about?”

Turning back to me, he took my hand in his, “I’m going to tell you a secret, Juliet. It’s going to be our little secret.”

“A secret? What are you-”

“Listen to me, I’ve seen many things in my time. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not sure I regret.  And because of that, people want me dead.” He stated, “Although, this suffering is nothing compared to the pain I feel when I think of your mother being dead.”

“Suffering? A-Are you sick?”

He smiled as if I guessed it correct, “My days are numbered Julie, aren’t you glad?”

“Glad? Why would I be- you’re- you’re dying?” I asked in disbelief.

My heart sank when he said that. I wasn’t supposed to feel like that, not for the bad guy. But it wasn’t wrong to feel like this for my father, right? I just wished he never said that. He should get locked up in jail, but not die. I mean, I know he did so many sinful things and deserved the worst punishment of all but… I couldn’t bring myself to want him dead.

“I think I am.”

“But you- and- you’re- I don’t understand- how l-long d-do you-?”

“I’m not sure. And honestly, I don’t care. Let this cancer do whatever it wants.” He sighed tiredly.

“But you have to care!” I cried standing up from my seat, “You can’t- I mean I know you’ve done terrible things but you- you can’t just- you can’t die- you-”

“I appreciate your concern, Juliet, it really warms what’s left of my heart, but that’s not what I had to tell you.” He said, standing up as well, “Tomorrow something is going to happen and I could stop it from happening, but I won’t.”

“What?”

“I want you to know that I know of this. Know that your father is doing this willingly. It begins with me and it will end with me, when I want it to end.”

“I don’t-”

“You’ll understand soon. For now, you should get to bed, it’s already very late. Goodnight, Juliet.” He ended.

As I turned to walk out of the room, so many things were bombarding my mind and so many feelings evaded- hurt, confusion. What was he talking about?

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