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50

He watched as Alexandra played the violin resting on her shoulder, her movements soft, teary even with a stoic look on her face. The song could have moved anyone to tears, if she had put more emotion into it, and as she stopped, waiting for an answer from him, he told her the same thing.

"Hmm," Had been her reply as she returned the violin back into it's case, standing to stretch her body before Paris heard himself ask, "What did you really want from Marcos?"

Alex paused, her eyes staring up at him. Empty. Soulless. "Did he not tell you?"

It had been the first time he had spoken to her without being told to, but he didn't care. He needed to know what exactly her plans were. "I'm supposed to believe what you told him?"

She stared at him. Even now, wearing a tank top and sweatpants, it was clear that she had honed her body into perfection. She was healthier than she had ever been. Beautiful. "Do you know those are the longest sentences you've ever said to me? I should take Marcos out on
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