CHAPTER 10. Mysterious Man
**— VITA.**
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When the Mysterious Man gave me the address where we were supposed to meet, I recognized it immediately and felt like my heart could stop at that moment. But he didn’t say anything further, just hung up and told me to arrive at exactly 8:00 p.m., not a minute later.
I thought carefully about whether I should or not, but either way, I really needed to get back to that bar to start my plan. And even though I’ve thought about everything carefully, I can’t help feeling anxious now that I’m actually doing it.
I haven’t had time to buy new clothes, so I open my mother’s closet, and like the rest of the house, they’re all untouched. I run my eyes over the elegant dresses, which are always tight on the body, highlighting the accentuated curves of her body; despite being slim and petite, my mother had a really enviable body, and I’ve been like her, even though I’m now much thinner than before.
In the mirror, I can see the ribs marked on the skin, and I don’t feel good looking at myself in the mirror, especially with the new scars I’ve received from my time in Wolf Jail.
But I don’t think too much about it; I just put on a discreet but elegant black dress that, although it’s a bit big, fills out the neckline and hips. Wearing something that belonged to my mother gives me a surge of courage that calms my chest.
I should go… I’d better not be late.
Sighing deeply, I look in the mirror once more and pat my face twice, regaining the courage that is threatening to disappear from within me...
“You need to do this, Vita,” I say to myself, looking through the reflection at my hazel eyes, so similar to my hateful father’s. “You have to do it.”
[...]
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When I get outside, I immediately feel sick... the memories of that night three years ago come flooding back into my mind. My screams were echoing in my head when I entered that damn room and found Alice’s body. Her breathing was very weak; there was barely a heartbeat when I knelt beside her, screaming for help. I tried to hold her and put her in my embrace, praying to the Moon Goddess not to take her, but Alice died in my arms before help arrived.
There were marks of aggression all over her body: stab wounds, possibly kicks and punches that left large purple bruises... and blood; so much blood... I can still feel it soaking into me. It’s a stain on my soul that can never be removed.
And now, looking at this bar, its wooden façade, and the many coconut trees around it, I feel broken.
A heavy tear falls from my eye, and I’m surprised I didn’t even feel it coming. This place, so beautiful from the outside, carries a tragic history within itself... something I’d like to forget but can’t.
I take a deep breath and enter the WoodBar, my eyes scanning the place as I move slowly through the dimly lit room, shrouded in surprisingly pleasant shadows.
The people around sit at round wooden tables and focus on the small stage to the side, where a masked woman is performing. The melodic voice sings about painful loves that we keep longing for with a bleeding heart. It gives me a bitter taste because I think of Derek, even though he’s the last person I should remember when listening to such a song.
I move on and turn down a small corridor with my heart beating fast in my throat. Each step takes me closer to Private Room 7, where it all happened. Memories replay in my mind as I take the same steps I did three years ago. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop.
My trembling legs keep carrying me past the closed doors that lock secrets inside. But an intense desire to turn around and run almost overwhelms me, and my feet lock on the floor simply because fierce and conflicting emotions are crushing me.
I swallow hard and force myself to walk because if this Unknown Man is calling me into this room, he surely has valuable information... I can’t chicken out now.
I know I’m messing with important people; there must be someone powerful behind Alice’s death. The way all the false evidence was built up and added to the circumstances to make it look real was really professional. Whoever did this and framed me, it’s not just anyone.
I finally stop in front of the door and take a deep breath, opening the door with a trembling, fearful hand, pushing it slowly with an almost painful creak.
With regretful steps, I enter this little hell of mine, only to find a man in his forties, sitting on the leather sofa with his legs crossed, looking at his phone in front of a table full of drinks.
When he notices me, the man looks up and gives me a subtle smile, raising his eyebrows. His husky voice isn’t very pleasant, and it sends shivers down my spine... “Being punctual doesn’t seem to be one of your qualities.”
Punctual? I’m five minutes early.
I frown, walking a little further into the room with my arms crossed, leaving the door open.
“Did you make the call?” I ask suspiciously.
“Vita, isn’t it?” His smile widens, and I don’t like the way it twinkles with amusement.
“And who are you?” I ask without taking my eyes off him, noticing that he tilts his head, looking at me like I’m some kind of rare creature.
“You can call me Mr. Raven.”
“All right, Mr. Raven, where are the clues you mentioned in the call?”
He looks at me a little more intensely, then laughs slowly, shakes his head, and points to the table in front of him, the various drinks resting there.
I don’t move a muscle, but he speaks again: “Come on, Vita... You don’t just hand over something precious like that, do you? If you want something, you have to give something else back.”
I hold my breath and wriggle restlessly, hugging my own body but keeping my chest puffed out and my chin up. He seems annoyed by my confident posture, probably imagining that I look nothing like the girl he saw at the trial. Much less am I the fragile Vita who shudders, cries, and begs for trust and love. Not anymore.
“What do you want in exchange for this information?” I ask, still holding my chin up, and I notice that his frown threatens to deepen, but his smile doesn’t falter.
Mr. Raven picks up an unopened bottle of wine and begins to remove the cork with such ease that he seems accustomed to doing it. The sound of the bottle opening gives me a slight jolt, and I thank the heavens that the man is too focused on pouring a glass to look at me.
The wine that slides halfway down the glass, so red and dense, brings back memories of Alice and her blood on the floor. My stomach twists, and I almost feel puke rising in my throat, but I take a deep breath and pull myself together when his brown eyes are on me again.
“Why don’t you have a drink? This would be a great start, Vita. We both have business to attend to, and we can’t do it with our mouths dry.”
I know that recusing isn’t an option. He’s implying that if I don’t drink, he won’t tell me the clue about Alice’s death.
Well, anyway, I saw him open it in front of me, so it must be okay to take a single sip…
I pick up the glass, and just as I’m bringing it to my lips, he pats the sofa next to him. His mischievous smile and words make me drink because my throat is really dry. “Sit down, Vita. We’ll have a long talk.”
There’s nothing strange about the taste of wine, fortunately, so I allow myself another sip, discreetly, just to wet my lips, and I obey, sitting down next to him.
Mr. Raven turns towards me, his long legs touching my knees while his body is leaning, reducing our distance. His brown eyes look at me like I’m prey, and I’ve seen this look before — Derek often looks at me like this. But unlike his blue eyes, there are no feelings in these at the moment.
No love, no hate, no resentment... they’re empty.
“You see, Vita...” Mr. Raven touches my knee, and I lower my eyes in surprise and confusion, looking at his human hands that have taken on wolf claws. “The price for the information I have is expensive, very expensive...”
I hold my breath as he begins to run his claws up my dress and continues slowly, brushing so lightly that it doesn’t tear the fabric, even being so sharp…
“Are you willing to pay anything?” Mr. Raven asks me, looking me straight in the eye... we’re too close, and I simply hate the smell this wolf exudes.
I open my lips to decline his offer, but before any words can escape, a familiar, sweet voice cuts through the brief silence... “Sister?”
I move my head quickly and in despair, only to see Wanda in her usual impeccable attire... And Derek is standing next to her. He’s looking pale, with an expression of astonishment that slowly turns to hatred.
Real, pure, and burning hatred.