Man In The Dark

I found myself wandering the shimmering streets of Paris late at night. After a lovely dinner at a charming restaurant, I was tired of the noisy crowds. I sought the quiet solitude of the city’s lesser-known alleys. I stopped to watch the moonlight reflecting off the river as I was about to return to the hotel. As I stood there, I couldn’t help but think about how utterly miserable I had become.

I was never going to forget what Sebastian had done to me. It would not change what I had been through to flee to Paris in secret, alone. Erasing the traces of the past wasn’t so easy. The memories clung to me, and while the marks on my body might be fading away, the wounds on my soul would remain raw. With one last look at the river, I wiped away the tear that had slipped down my cheek, turned around, and walked into a narrow, unfamiliar alley.

I had to get back to the hotel. It was getting late, and although Paris is a dazzling city, I’d heard that it could be dangerous at night, especially for lone tourists. The thought made me shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked quickly down the street I had just entered.The streets were unfamiliar to me, as I hadn’t visited this part of the city during the day. I pulled out my phone and opened the map. I typed in the address of my hotel to find my way back. According to the map, I had walked into a dead-end street. I turned around to head back the way I came, but then I froze when I heard a sound coming from somewhere I couldn’t see. The street was quite dark and deserted. My fears were telling me to turn back and stay safe, but what if someone needed help? How would I feel if I just walked away?

With growing unease, I started walking down the street. The streetlights weren’t working, and it was really dark. Even though I was thankful that I wasn’t someone who was afraid of the dark, the fear inside me grew with every step I took. I tried to move quietly, but the damn high heels I was wearing made too much noise in such a quiet street, giving away my presence. I took small steps and when I reached the place where the sound was coming from, I hid behind an old car and began to watch what was happening.

It was so dark that I couldn’t see clearly. But I noticed a motionless body lying on the ground. Standing right next to it was a tall, broad-shouldered man who seemed to be wearing a long overcoat. Behind him were two other men, just as large. Although I couldn’t see their faces in the darkness, I could make out their silhouettes. The man on the floor had to be alive. He was breathing in short gasps and saying something in French. I wished I had learned at least a little of the language.

The man in the long coat lit a cigarette. He gently flicked the glowing tip in the darkness and crouched down, leaning over the man on the ground. He murmured something in French in a low voice. Even though I couldn’t understand what he was saying, his tone and the way he spoke were so terrifying that it made me shiver. As he spoke, the man on the ground began to cry and say something in a pleading manner. I knew that I had to call the police and get help, but I was frozen in place, just watching the scene unfold in front of me. Even if I called the police, how could I explain what had happened? Besides, I didn’t even know where I was, and if I spoke, they would hear me. I could have walked away, but deep down I was insanely curious to see what would happen next.

I let out a small scream as the man in the long coat suddenly pressed his cigarette into the other man’s face, and I quickly panicked and hid on the other side of the car. I prayed that they hadn’t heard me. When I had a look out again, there was no sign that they had. The man’s scream had probably drowned out my own. The man in the coat got up from the crying, pleading man and started playing with his lighter. The sound of the metal clicking open and closed frayed my nerves even more. I watched his fumbling with the cigarette lighter, almost hypnotized. The other two men then stepped out from behind the man in the coat and approached the man on the ground. One of them reached for his belt, pulled out a gun, and shot the man in the head. There was no sound. Even if there had been, I doubt anyone on that street would have said anything to these men.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I realized I had just witnessed a murder. My legs were shaking and cold sweat ran down my body. I covered my mouth with my hand, unable to stop the tears from falling. The man in the coat, as if nothing had happened, threw his finished cigarette on the body and said something to his men before getting into his car.

The car was coming my way. If I didn’t hide, the same thing could happen to me. In a panic, I kicked off my high heels and ran down the street. As I ran, my foot hit a sharp stone on the ground and I fell with a painful groan. The car was getting closer and I didn’t have time to run. I threw myself behind a large dumpster on the side of the road. Within seconds, a black SUV sped past me and off the road. The other men must have stayed behind. I had to get out of here before they found me. Limping slightly, I hurried toward the main road, clutching my high heels. I hid among the parked cars and quickly called an Uber using the app on my phone.

When I got back to the hotel, I was in a terrible state of mind. What a night I had just had. I had witnessed something so horrible that it made me forget my own pain and disappointments. I hurriedly locked the door and, with shaking hands, took off my clothes. I filled the bathtub and sank into the hot water, trying to relax. Meanwhile, I looked up flights on my phone. I wasn’t ready to go home yet, but I could go to another country. I had to get out of Paris as soon as possible. I knew they hadn’t seen me. If they had, I’d probably be buried underground or floating in the water by now. But I couldn’t take any chances. After witnessing something like that, there was no way I could stay here any longer.

My mind was made up. I booked a flight two days later. I was getting out of here.

***

When I woke up, my whole body hurt. I had nightmares all night, tossing and turning in bed. The images from last night felt like a noose around my neck. I couldn’t breathe and I panicked and paced around the tiny hotel room. I took a shower, watched a few episodes of a show, and read a book, but I couldn’t escape the thoughts swirling in my head.

I came to Paris to catch my breath, but who could have known that what I experienced here would turn my life upside down even more? Unable to stand the restless pacing around the room, I decided to go out and drink to clear my head. If I drank enough to forget what I had seen, I might be able to convince myself it was just a bad dream and spend my last night in this damn city in peace.

At the time, I had no idea that this decision would have such a profound impact on the course of my life.

I put on the black mini dress from my closet and paired it with my high heels. I quickly brushed my long red hair and let it down. After putting on my gold jewelry and applying red lipstick, I took the Uber I had called to the closest bar to the hotel. My plan was to have a few drinks and clear my head. Maybe I’d meet an ordinary Frenchman, spend some time with him, and shake off the heavy weight of last night’s events.

The bar was not very crowded. Soft, lively music was playing in the background. People slowly danced to the rhythm, while some, like me, sat in the bar area, sipping their drinks and observing the surroundings. It wasn’t a big place, but it was carefully laid out. After placing my drink order with the bartender, I began to take in the scene around me. My anxiety hadn’t subsided, and I began to feel this irrational sense that I was being watched. It was as if someone invisible was hiding in the shadows, watching me. I looked around, paranoid, to see if anyone was paying attention to me. Of course, it was all in my head. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and no one’s eyes were on me-except for a few flirtatious glances from a few men. I avoided eye contact with them and turned back to face forward. After paying for my drink, I took a big gulp and let the whiskey burn my throat. As I ordered another, I caught a whiff of aftershave and cigarette smoke in the air. Smells were my weakness. I loved to guess what someone was like by the way they smelled.

To see who owned the scent that had affected me so much, I turned my head toward the stool next to me and came face to face with the most striking green eyes I had ever seen. A tall, handsome man dressed all in black with black hair had sat down next to me and was signaling the bartender for a drink.

“Same for me,” he said.

His voice was firm and deep. He was confident and self-assured. His upright posture, strong jawline, straight nose, stubbled beard, and black clothes gave him a rugged yet elegant look. The way he spoke made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time: desire. I realized that I wanted this man who had been standing next to me for only a few seconds. His powerful aura sent warmth between my legs while his scent filled my nose. Noticing my reaction, the stranger turned his attention to me.

“Are you okay? You seem to be drinking a little fast,” he said, his serious gaze fixed on the empty glass in my hand.

I didn’t want to talk to him. No, I wanted to get out of here with him and have sex. I knew it was the alcohol that made me think that way, and even though I craved it, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

“I want to be alone,” I said, brushing him off and motioning for the bartender to refill my glass.

The stranger, unaffected by my rejection, turned his entire body toward me. He leaned against the table, took a big gulp from his glass, and, scanning his surroundings, turned his mocking gaze directly on me. God, his eyes were so beautiful and I wanted to lose myself in them.

“You seem to have chosen the wrong place to be alone,” he said, gesturing to the onlookers around us.

“I thought I was doing pretty well so far,” I replied coldly. This stranger was starting to annoy me, and the fact that I was so strongly affected by him didn’t make it any easier.

He smiled slightly and leaned closer, his green eyes locked onto mine.“You may be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And contrary to what you might think, being alone isn’t always the best option.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

There was something in his words that touched me. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe I didn’t care because I was a little tipsy. I took another sip of my drink and studied him with bold eyes. His body was closer to mine now, and the mix of cigarette smoke and perfume made my head spin. Instead of sitting here alone brooding, I decided to play his game.

“So you’re the one who’s going to fix my loneliness?”

My words and my questioning look made him narrow his eyes and smile.

“Why not?” he whispered, putting his glass down on the table and extending his hand for a handshake. “I’m Damien.”

His name was nice, but it conveyed his meaning perfectly. He had a dark and powerful aura about him. He was undoubtedly a dominant Alpha. I reached out and took his hand that was

“Scarlett.”

Damien repeated my name in a whisper. “Just like you.”

“Just like me, huh?” Our hands were still clasped. He held my hand so tightly that it felt like he didn’t want to let go. I had no intention of going anywhere, at least not yet. I liked him, a lot.

He released our clasped hands and began to stroke the strand of hair that had fallen to my face.

“Scarlet means fiery red,” he said, showing me the red strand of hair between his fingers. “Like you, like your hair.”

My hair had been red since birth, and although I had been bullied a lot as a child because of its color, as an adult I had begun to attract the attention of men. Plus, this guy told me I was fiery while practically worshipping my hair. At least before I left, I’d be able to relax by spending time with someone who appreciated and desired me.

“Thank you.” Although I liked the compliment, I was a little embarrassed.

“Your name also means passion and danger.” His gaze moved from my hair to my eyes, then to my lips and down my body. As he undressed me with his eyes while I sat, I felt a rush of heat. I blushed, and damn it, my pale skin made it obvious. Damien noticed my blush as his eyes moved from my neck to my breasts and smiled.

He picked up our drinks, put them on the bar and extended his hand to me. I looked at his hand in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“Dance with me, Scarlett,” he said in a teasing voice.

I liked to dance, but I had no idea how to dance with a guy I had just met five minutes ago and was insanely attracted to, especially when he was drunk.

“-I’d rather not-”

Before I could finish my sentence, he cut me off, took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

“Come on, don’t argue. Tonight I’m going to make you forget everything.”

Before I could even question what he meant, he pulled me onto the dance floor and quickly wrapped his arms around my waist. The dim lights, the music, the alcohol and Damien’s scent made my head spin. Damien placed both hands on my waist, pressing and caressing my skin with his large palms. As he did so, he looked into my eyes and watched my reactions. Meanwhile, I felt like my heart was going to stop from excitement. Although we danced at a slow pace, our bodies brushed against each other and we came so close that our breaths mingled with each step.

I placed my hands on his broad, hard shoulders and began to gently bend my waist and sway my hips to the rhythm of the music. As I was carried away by the music and Damien, I relaxed and drifted away from the anxious scenarios in my head. Damien also accompanied me with slow movements, watching me more than dancing. As I swayed, the green in his eyes began to fade and dark glints appeared in his irises. Every now and then he would look at my lips and caress my waist roughly. As we danced, the attraction between us reached its breaking point. We were both on fire. As the intensity of his touches increased, I could feel the area between my legs getting wetter. I was sure my black thong was sticky with wetness by now. But I didn’t care. I was going to spend my last night here the way I wanted to and get out of this damn city tomorrow.

I licked my lips because I was thirsty. This action noticed by Damien and he put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer to him. We were now dancing with our bodies intertwined and there was almost no distance between our lips. Damien whispered something in French against my lips. I couldn’t hear what he was saying and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to understand it.

“What did you say?” I asked loudly. Damien looked my lips and rested his forehead on mine. “Let’s get out of here.” I knew what his offer meant. He didn’t have to say it directly. He had made it clear in every way that he wanted me since the beginning of the night. Normally, I would have said no to him because he was a stranger, but now, with the courage I had gained from the alcohol, I nodded and accepted his offer.

I had no idea what was going to happen tonight. I would soon find out.