Chapter 60: The Road to Paris

I drove without any real direction, my mind far too crowded to focus on the road while my hands moved almost on instinct, guiding the car through the quiet streets. The world outside felt distant and unreal, as though I was only watching it from far away instead of actually living in it. After a while, I spotted a hotel — nothing fancy, just somewhere to stop for the night — so I turned into the parking lot and parked near the entrance.

I switched off the engine… and just sat there.

Silence filled the car.

My hands rested on the steering wheel while my eyes stayed fixed ahead, but I wasn’t truly seeing anything. I was trying to understand. Trying to make sense of something that simply refused to make sense.

The Count… isn’t my father?

That thought alone felt impossible because everything I had believed in, everything that had driven me this far — all the hatred, all the questions, all the years of searching — had been built around that single truth.

And now that truth was gone.

The man who led me into the Count’s hall… the same man who stood beside me and saved me from death… the Count had called him brother.

Brother.

Yet that same man looked me directly in the eye and told me he was my real father.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as the thought settled deeper into my chest.

What does that even make me?

Am I still the prophesied Dhampir — the one destined to bring doom to vampires? Or is there another one out there somewhere? Another person living a completely different life while carrying the destiny that was supposed to belong to me?

I exhaled slowly, my chest beginning to feel unbearably heavy.

I had always believed the Count was the last son of the Asogun. That was what made him important. That was what made him feared.

So why did he call that man brother?

The questions kept coming endlessly, piling on top of one another until it felt like my head might split open. Every answer only created more confusion, and every truth uncovered something even worse beneath it.

I sat there thinking harder, trying desperately to piece everything together — my mother, my past, the prophecy, Juliet, the attack… all of it. But nothing connected anymore. It felt like trying to solve a puzzle made from pieces belonging to entirely different pictures.

Then suddenly—

Knock.

The sharp sound against my window snapped me out of my thoughts instantly.

I blinked as my surroundings rushed back into focus.

Turning slightly, I rolled down the glass and found a man in a security uniform standing outside, looking at me with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

“Oga, you no fit just sit down for here like this,” he said. “Na either you go inside or you comot.”

I nodded quickly, still trying to clear the fog in my head. “I’m sorry… just give me a few minutes.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a one-thousand-naira note and handed it to him.

His expression changed immediately.

The tension disappeared from his face and was replaced with a smile as he accepted the money.

“Ah, no wahala,” he said while stepping back.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone again — although this time, the silence somehow felt even heavier than before.

Eventually, I decided to go inside because sitting in the car clearly wasn’t helping. Maybe a quiet room would allow me to think clearly enough to figure out what to do next.

I stepped out of the car, shut the door behind me, and headed toward the entrance.

The moment I walked inside, I was greeted by the familiar atmosphere of a typical Nigerian hotel. Glossy tiles covered the floor and reflected the dim overhead lights, while slightly worn leather chairs were arranged neatly beside a muted television mounted on the wall. The air carried the faint scent of cheap air freshener mixed with something older, as though the building itself had absorbed years of sleepless nights and passing strangers.

The entire lobby was empty.

No voices.

No movement.

Only silence.

I walked toward the reception desk where two female receptionists sat behind the counter, both of them half asleep with their heads tilted slightly as they fought a losing battle against exhaustion.

I tapped the desk gently.

Nothing.

I tapped again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Finally, I slammed my palm against the desk hard enough to make both women jump upright in shock.

“Welcome to Luxury Hotel, where luxury meets—”

They froze in the middle of the sentence.

Their eyes locked onto me immediately.

The dried blood on my face.

The state of my clothes.

The stains.

The damage.

Their expressions shifted instantly from rehearsed hospitality to concern.

“Are you okay, sir?” one of them asked carefully.

“Yeah,” I replied calmly, though exhaustion weighed heavily in my voice. “I was involved in a little accident. That’s why I need a room… so I can shower and sleep.”

The second receptionist looked at me more closely, concern deepening in her eyes.

“Don’t you need a hospital, sir?”

I shook my head slowly. “It’s not that serious. I just need to shower… and sleep.”

She hesitated for a moment while studying my face as though trying to decide whether or not I was lying, but eventually she nodded.

“Okay, sir.”

The other receptionist turned toward the wall behind them where dozens of keys hung neatly in rows. Her eyes scanned across them briefly before she reached upward and pulled one free.

“Which type of room would you like, sir?” she asked.

“Just a single room.”

She nodded before removing the key labeled 56, the metal tag clinking softly in her fingers.

“Room 56,” she said gently. “Third floor.”

“Thanks,” I replied while reaching for it.

My fingers wrapped around the key…

…but she didn’t let go.

For a brief moment, we both held it.

Confused, I looked up at her.

She leaned forward slightly, her lips curling into a subtle smile while her eyes carried a playful, knowing look.

“And if you need anything,” she said softly, her voice lowering into a flirtatious whisper, “just ring us… I’ll do anything you want.”

My eyes drifted toward the name tag pinned neatly to her shirt.

Tope.

I looked back at her and smiled faintly.

“Tope.”

Her smile widened immediately.

“I’ll let you know,” I said.

She held onto the key for another second before finally releasing it.

I took it fully, turned away from the desk, and headed toward the elevator while the silence of the lobby swallowed the sound of my footsteps and allowed everything that had happened to begin creeping back into my mind once again.

As I stood there waiting for the elevator doors to open, the silence around me somehow sharpened my senses even more.

Then, without meaning to, I heard them.

My hearing shifted automatically, focusing on their whispers behind me.

“Omg, he’s really fine and tall… he’s my type,” one receptionist whispered excitedly.

The other scoffed lightly. “Every tall, cute guy that walks in here is your type.”

A faint smirk almost appeared on my face, but it vanished just as quickly.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding and I stepped inside. The moment the doors closed, their voices disappeared completely as though they had never existed.

The elevator began moving upward.

And just like that, my thoughts came rushing back.

What am I supposed to do now?

I stared at my reflection in the dull metal wall of the elevator and barely recognized myself anymore.

No job.

No home.

No family.

Nothing except questions… and a life that no longer made sense.

I’m alone.

The elevator stopped moments later and opened onto a quiet hallway illuminated by dim yellow lights. The corridor was completely silent except for the faint hum of electricity.

I stepped out and walked slowly down the hall while scanning the numbers on each door.

53…

54…

55…

Then I stopped.

56.

Pulling out the key, I slid it into the lock and turned it. The door clicked open softly before I pushed it inward and stepped inside.

The room was simple but clean. A neatly made bed sat at the center beneath plain white sheets while a small bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room. There was a modest wardrobe in one corner, a mirror mounted on the wall, and a bathroom door left slightly open. The air smelled faintly of detergent and fresh linen.

I shut the door behind me and stood there quietly for a moment before beginning to remove my clothes.

One after another, they dropped onto the floor — stained, heavy, and carrying the weight of everything I had been through.

I walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped beneath the falling water.

The blood…

The dirt…

Everything slowly washed from my skin and disappeared down the drain.

I stayed there longer than necessary, letting the water run over me while silently hoping it could wash away the chaos in my mind too — even though I knew it couldn’t.

Eventually, I stepped out, dried myself, and slipped on the white robe hanging behind the door before returning to the bedroom and collapsing onto the bed.

I didn’t even bother trying to think anymore.

I was too exhausted.

Too drained.

Within seconds, my eyes closed.

And just like that, I fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

I woke to the sound of knocking on the door.

At first, I didn’t move because my body still felt weighed down by sleep, but the knocking came again — louder this time.

Slowly, I sat up and glanced toward the window where sunlight was already slipping through the curtains.

Another knock followed.

I climbed out of bed, walked toward the door, and pulled it open.

It was Tope.

The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up and a soft smile spread across her face.

“Morning,” she said gently.

I frowned slightly. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head quickly. “No… nothing’s wrong. My shift is ending soon, so I just wanted to check if there’s anything you might need before I leave.”

As she spoke, I could hear it clearly.

Her heartbeat.

Fast.

Nervous.

But not afraid.

A faint smile appeared on my face.

Before she could say anything else, I reached forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her gently closer.

She gasped softly in surprise.

Then I leaned down and kissed her.

For a brief moment she froze, caught off guard, before slowly melting into the kiss and responding just as deeply.

When I pulled back slightly, our eyes met.

She smiled again — differently this time — before leaning forward and kissing me once more.

Without breaking the moment, I used my leg to push the door shut behind her.

The soft click echoed quietly through the room.

I guided her farther inside, my hands still around her waist, before gently lowering her onto the bed.

Stepping back slightly, I untied the robe around my waist and allowed it to fall open. Her eyes lingered on me openly now, filled with curiosity and desire.

The room became quiet again.

But this time, the silence wasn’t empty.

I climbed onto the bed and pulled her closer while my hands slid beneath her skirt. She shivered softly against me as I removed her underwear and pushed the fabric upward around her waist. By then she had already unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off, revealing smooth skin beneath the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

I unclasped her bra and tossed it carelessly onto the floor before pulling off my own underwear and spreading her legs slowly apart.

The moment I entered her, a loud moan escaped her lips while her body arched beneath mine.

I began moving faster, and her hips matched every thrust instinctively as the bed creaked rhythmically beneath us. To silence her moans slightly, I kissed her deeply while my lips trailed across her neck and chest.

Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist as she suddenly pushed me backward onto the bed before climbing on top of me herself.

Then she began riding me.

I grabbed her gently by the neck, guiding her movements while her breathing became heavier and more uneven. Eventually, I pulled her back down onto the bed, turned her over, and bent her forward before taking her from behind.

Her moans filled the room again.

Louder this time.

Faster.

Until finally, after several intense moments, I climaxed.

We both collapsed onto the bed afterward, breathing heavily while sweat glistened against our skin.

She smiled at me lazily and said it was the best she had ever felt.

I was about to answer when my eyes drifted toward a poster hanging on the wall.

The Eiffel Tower.

Immediately, memories crashed into me.

Two hundred years ago, I had lived in Paris, and it had been the happiest decade of my life. Back then I worked as a mechanic, young and full of purpose, and during that time I met a vampire named Jane.

She was beautiful.

Wild.

Fearless.

And somehow, she dragged me into adventures I never imagined I could survive.

I remembered the day she told me her elderly mother had passed away and that she needed to attend the funeral. I wanted to go with her, but she insisted I stay behind and wait.

So I waited.

Days became weeks.

Weeks became months.

And eventually months turned into three long years.

In the end, I never saw her again.

I never even learned where she went.

Eventually, I had no choice but to leave Paris behind.

But now, staring at that poster, the thought returned to me stronger than ever.

Maybe I should go back.

Maybe Paris was waiting for me.

And maybe…

Jane was still there too.

The memory left me quiet for several long moments while the room filled only with the sound of our breathing and the distant noise of the city beyond the hotel walls.

I wondered if she would still remember me.

The thought made a faint smile creep onto my face.

Now I knew exactly what I needed to do.

Slowly, I stood up and pulled my underwear back on before draping the white robe across my shoulders again. Tope watched me from the bed with wide curious eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asked softly, confusion slipping into her voice.

“I need to go,” I replied firmly while gathering my scattered clothes from the bed along with my wallet. Holding the pile out toward her, I asked, “Can you help me get rid of these?”

She hesitated briefly before nodding. “Okay… but when will I see you again?”

I glanced at her and smiled faintly.

“Don’t worry,” I said calmly. “You’ll see me again… when the time is right.”

There was certainty in my voice now.

The kind of certainty that only comes when someone finally understands what they need to do next.

She slowly began putting her clothes back on while her eyes continued searching mine.

“But… you don’t even have my number,” she said quietly.

“I lost my phone last night,” I replied while opening the door. “It was nice meeting you.”

I didn’t give her enough time to respond before leaving the room.

Walking back through the corridor, I approached the front desk and paid fully for the room before turning toward the exit.

“Sir!” one of the receptionists suddenly called after me. “You can’t leave with the robe — it’s hotel property!”

I stopped, reached into my wallet again, and handed her every remaining note inside it.

“Can I leave now?” I asked calmly.

She stared at the money briefly before smiling.

“Definitely, sir.”

I stepped outside into the morning sunlight where the air smelled faintly of wet asphalt and exhaust fumes. Opening the car door, I slid into the driver’s seat and shut it quietly behind me.

Then I took a long, slow breath before whispering to myself,

“Let’s go… Paris.”

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel as determination surged through me once again.