The Man In Black

“We only had unprotected sex once. I can’t be the one responsible.”

Darius said. His voice was ice cold. His words sliced through the fabric on my skin deep into my heart. 

I knew I was just his mistress. I knew I was just a tool for him to satisfy his sexual desire but yet, I gave myself to him more than I should have. 

“You can’t say that. You know I’ve only ever worked for you. I’m your private escort—and yours alone.” I said. 

Darius stood by the window of the opulent bedroom. The windows were draped with long white and royal purple curtains that stretched from the ceilings down to the floor. 

His hands were folded behind his back. His gaze was still fixed on the skyline of New York City that stretched endlessly beneath the morning light, as breathtaking as ever. Darius didn’t seem to notice. 

“This should be in your contract. You should know how to handle situations like this.” Darius said. 

He let out a heavy sigh. He turned towards me, his eyes locked with mine for a few minutes before his gaze drifted away. 

“The cleaning lady would be here in 25 minutes. Clean up and leave…but just after me.” Darius said. 

His resolve was unchanged. He grabbed his coat on the bed, threw it over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. 

“I’m pregnant for you Darius Blackwood. This is your child.” I said. 

I held my stomach as my breath turned erratic. 

He stopped. For a moment I thought he would walk up to me, pull me into a deep kiss, hold me by my cheek and tell me he would be here for me. 

I was so stupid. 

I allowed the line between a mistress and her boss to be blurred by my delusions. 

“Don’t push this further.” His voice was quiet, but final. 

He walked towards the door. I was about to call out his name when the scene before me left me speechless. 

Darius opened the door, and there she was, the cleaning lady. Her eyes were filled with fears I could not describe, like she had heard something no one else should have. 

Her hands shook in fear as she tried to pick up the mop that had fallen from her grip because of the shock. 

“How long have you been here?” Darius asked. 

I saw his grip on the doorknob tightened as his knuckles turned white. 

The cleaning lady was hesitant. Her lips parted, but no words came. “I…I just got here.” 

The fear in her eyes gave away her weak lie. Darius examined her for a few more minutes. “Come back in another 25 minutes.” 

The cleaning lady did not hesitate. She fled the scene. She was so lucky she left with all parts of her body intact. 

Darius turned to me. “Leave.” 

Then he walked out of the room. The door locked behind him. 

I sat on the bed for a while. What was I to do now? 

I pounced out of the bed. I ran my hands through my tangled hair before I ran a comb through. I would have had a shower but this wasn’t the time. 

The thought of someone came to my mind. I need to meet with that person right now. 

I picked up my dress from the bedside. Got dressed and ran out of the room. I made sure I had my scarf and sun glasses to avoid any attention. 

I successfully walked out of the hotel without unnecessary attention, or so I thought. 

The busy streets of New York City left me disoriented for a moment. The early morning sun shone a little bit too bright even for my sun glasses. 

Ding Ding!! 

A text message notification popped up on my phone screen. It was from my landlord. 

“Funny how someone can spend the night at the Blackwood Hotel and still owe $2,100 in rent. Funny priorities.” 

I felt a cold sweat break down my back. Was I being stalked? 

I observed my surroundings to confirm if anyone suspicious had tailed me but all I saw were people with their eyes glued to their phones as they went on about their day. 

“Are you Jolene Quin?” a deep bass voice echoed above me. 

I was startled. 

I lifted my head. My eyes locked with a huge man who stood a few inches away from me. He had a black pair of glasses on, dressed in a fully black outfit. 

I took three steps back which created space between us. 

I was hesitant at first. “Yes. Yes I am.”

The next thing I felt was a cold hand on my back. The strange man had driven a dagger into my chest. 

My eyes bulged out in terror and confusion. 

He professionally pulled the dagger out as he walked away. I stood there with my hands pressed against my chest. 

No one noticed. 

My leg gave up as I fell. My cheek slammed against the cold concrete. It was cold, too cold. I could no longer tell if I was dead or alive. 

In just a few minutes, I was surrounded. The whispers and unsolicited opinions of strangers filled the air. 

Then comes silence. And I lost consciousness.