Written by Writer Pooja Warrier and Edited by Editor Mrinali Jadhav

Suite Imperiale, Ritz Paris

Temperature outside: 6℃

Condition inside: Magical yet cold.

When everything else fell apart, only one truth remained. Rosalind West was no more.

On the finest handmade rug, at a precarious angle she laid lifeless. Her pink satin lace nightgown was soaked in crimson fluid.It had been an eventful night for Maxwell McKiney and he needed something to make him feel better.

He poured himself a glass of aged whiskey just the way he liked. Neat. He enjoyed the flavor as he slowly savored his drink. After a sip, he laid back to dwell on his thoughts.

Rosalind and Maxwell had met ten years ago at a local library. The moment their eyes had locked, he knew their souls had an unmistakable connection. For him, time had slowed down and the world had stopped spinning. He just knew she was the ‘One’. The stranger was the woman of his dreams.

I need to speak to her. He thought.

“Hi”, he said. “I…am…Maxwell.” His head was pounding with tension as he managed to have the words out. Thousands of questions prowled through his mind.

Will she talk to me?

Is she nervous too?

What should I ask her next? He extended his right hand. 

“Hello. Rosalind”, she replied, taking his hands gracefully. His palms are sweaty. In an air conditioned room like this? She flashed a smile. She knew something was up with this chap in front of her. 

Her first touch was like a 440 Volt charge sent through his entire being. He could no longer see anything. The adrenaline burst in the veins had made everything impossible. 

“You…come…here…daily?”

“Of course! Just out of curiosity, are you the Mckineys – the liquor barons?”

“Yesss…” Impressive! She knows who I am. He thought.

“What does your family do?” in a more relaxed tone. 

“Oh…nothing delightful. Just pharmaceutical manufacturing business. I’m into interior designing too.”

“Nice. Can… Can I have your number?”

Was it too early to ask her? Will she take me wrong? It’s too late now.

The words were already out. 

“Oh ya. I don’t mind really!” She passed on her number.

“Text me when you get home.” 

“Sure. I will. Thanks. Can we meet again?”

He was sitting on the horns of his dilemma. Am I going too fast? Will she be turned off?

He knew he couldn’t just get hold of himself. She was his, the moment he had set his eyes on her. He didn’t want to lose her.“Yeah. I guess we could.” She glanced at her watch. “Okay. I probably should be leaving now. Catch you later.” After a pause she added, “Take care”. She flashed a mischievous smile hinting at a secret she was trying her best to conceal. 

Lord! Those lips. He thought, as he pushed his hair back from the forehead. Like the ripest cherries which could lure any mortal to destruction. They waved each other goodbye and he stood there watching as she left. He walked out of the library building just in time to see his blue Rolls Royce move towards him. His right-hand man, confidante – Kevin opened the door for him.

He could see his boss humming a tune with a smile. He had never seen him like this before.Maxwell woke up from his reverie. He was full of icy fury. Kevin. Kevin Wilkinson. Bastard. Kevin had been picked up from the St. John’s Cathedral Orphanage on the annual McKiney’s visit mostly due to Maxwell’s persistent demands.

Maxwell, who had a brotherly affection for Kevin, wanted him to be taken home and since then Kevin had been working for the McKiney’s. 

After a drink refill, he walked towards where she lay. Rosalind West. His wife. He smiled as he feasted on her motionless figure. She was still enchanting. He could marry her all over again for their fifteenth wedding anniversary until the morning he had discovered the texts between Kevin and her.

Bloody whore.

She has been sleeping with that bastard! Right under my nose. The once beautiful woman of his dreams was a bloody mangled mess now. She always said that I was her whole world. If it was true, why did she destroy my life? Break my trust? The laughter in his life had died.

The light that had come to kiss his heart like the rain drops on the leaves had been smothered. The moment Maxwell realized his trust had been compromised, the ball was set to roll. The Paris escapade had been carefully designed from scratch. They had climbed atop the Eiffel Tower, strolled down the Champs Elysees, visited the Louvre and wandered along the banks of the Seine holding each other’s hands.

They dined at the most romantic restaurants on the second floor of the Eiffel Tower accompanied by the finest collection of the most expensive wines. Kevin had been taken care of by Antonio and his thugs and was now an unrecognizable corpse awaiting postmortem in a mortuary elsewhere.

I will handle her. He had said.

As the night spread out its black wings, even as their eyes met, he took a long, deep breath and plunged the sharpened blade of his dagger into her abdomen. He pulled out the dagger and repeatedly stabbed her at several points. A certain madness had engulfed him and the insanity was anything but evident.

She sent out muffled cries for help but in vain. “Sshhh… it is just a bad dream. Just a dream. It will be over soon.” He ushered her as he consoled her with his deadly smile.

She moaned for the last time as the cold metal  plunged into her mutilated body. To Maxwell, watching life slowly drain out from her was orgasmic. A different climax. It was all over in seconds. He was never worried about the consequences of his act. MONEY, MAN and POWER.

He had much more than any mortal hands could fathom. The cover up would be a piece of cake.

Lord! I wish this was all a joke. Tough luck there. Her laughter will still play in my ears. I will miss her. I still love her. Please take good care of her. My prayers to you dear Lord, to bring us together some other time, some other place.

Amen.

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