Chapter 29 : The fool and the mystery man

Michael sat in his car across the street, watching intently as the 'mystery man' and Angela embraced. His teeth ground together audibly, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He wanted to storm across the street, tear the door open, and confront them right there, but he forced himself to stay rooted in place.

This wasn't the time. Soon, very soon, he would have his moment, and it would be far more satisfying. The thought alone soothed him slightly, and a twisted smile crept across his face. 

As they disappeared into the building, Michael squinted, focusing on the man's silhouette. Something about him felt familiar, the way he moved, the confidence in his stride. He racked his brain, but no name or face came to mind. It was like trying to recall a dream slipping through his fingers. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "It doesn't matter who he is. I'll find out soon enough. And when I do…" 

He let the thought hang as he reached for his phone and dialed Lumian's number. 

Inside the apartment, Lumian followed Angela as she led him to her door. His eyes were fixed on her swaying hips, the curve of her figure was almost hypnotic. A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This was going to be easier than he thought. 

The door clicked open, and Angela stepped aside, holding it for him to enter. As he walked in, Lumian took a cursory glance around. 

The apartment had a lived-in charm, though the signs of tension were impossible to miss. A broken lamp lay discarded in the corner, a couple of picture frames were cracked, and there was a small fist-sized hole in the wall near the dining area. 

"Nice place," Lumian remarked, in a casual tone . 

Angela let out a bitter laugh. "Don't lie. I know what it looks like." 

Lumian didn't reply, letting the silence speak for itself. 

"Want something to drink?" she asked, brushing her hair back. 

"Water's fine," he replied. 

Angela handed him a glass of room-temperature water, muttering an apology. "The refrigerator stopped working yesterday… along with a few other electrical appliances. Michael keeps saying he'll fix them, but I think we both know he won't." 

Lumian took a small sip, barely wetting his lips. "No worries," he said simply. 

Angela looked at him for a moment, as if deciding something, then said, "I'm going to take a quick bath and change. Make yourself comfortable." 

Lumian nodded, watching as she disappeared into the hallway. No sooner had the door to the bathroom clicked shut than his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

"Yeah?" he answered, keeping his voice low. 

"It's me," Michael's voice came through the line, tense but steady. "I saw them. They're inside the building now." 

"Good," Lumian replied, stepping closer to the window but keeping himself out of sight. "I'm already in place. I've got a clear view of the guy. I'll take some pictures now and call you when it's time to move in." 

"Perfect," Michael said, his voice laced with anticipation. "He won't see it coming." 

"Oh, he definitely won't," Lumian said, his lips curling into a wide grin as he hung up the phone. Sliding it back into his pocket, he whispered to himself, "What a fool. It's you who won't see it coming until it hits you like a speeding truck." 

As if on cue, Angela emerged from the hallway. She was wearing a silky red robe that clung to her body, outlining every curve and leaving little to the imagination. Her damp hair fell over her shoulders, and her skin glowed faintly under the lighting. Lumian's attention was immediately drawn to her. 

"I thought about soaking in the bath for a while," she said, her voice low and playful. "But I'd hate to keep you waiting too long. So, what do you say? Should I take my time, or… would you like to join me and help me scrub my back and other places I find hard to reach?" 

Lumian smirked, his jacket slipping from his shoulders and landing on the floor with a soft thud. "I'll take the latter," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. 

Angela let out a soft laugh, but it was cut short as Lumian closed the distance between them. In one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms, his hands firmly gripping her thighs. Angela gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck for balance. 

"You don't waste time, do you?" she teased. 

"When I see something I want," Lumian replied, his voice low and intimate, "I take it." 

Meanwhile, outside the building, Michael sat in his car, his eyes locked on the apartment window. The light filtering through the curtains seemed to mock him, each passing second stoking the flames of his rage. 

'What are they doing in there?' The question gnawed at him, vivid and intrusive images flooding his mind. He gritted his teeth, gripping the steering wheel so hard it threatened to crack under the pressure. 

'Focus. Stay calm.' He repeated the mantra to himself over and over, his gaze never wavering. "Soon," he whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "I'll end this. I'll end him." 

Back in the apartment, Angela led Lumian into the bathroom. Steam curled in the air, fogging up the mirror and adding a hazy warmth to the small space. She untied the sash of her robe, letting it slip from her shoulders to pool at her feet. 

Lumian leaned against the doorframe, his eyes raking over her naked body with unabashed hunger. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said, his voice low and teasing. 

Angela stepped into the bath, the water rippling around her. "And you're full of charm," she replied, leaning back and looking at him through half-lidded eyes. "Now, are you going to help me, or just stand there and stare?" 

Lumian's smirk widened as he shrugged off his shirt. "Don't mind if I do." 

As the water lapped against them, Lumian couldn't help but think about how perfectly everything was falling into place. Angela was his puppet, Michael his fool. 

'This is just the beginning, this is beyond a simple revenge' he thought, his fingers trailing lazily along Angela's shoulder. 'They're pawns in a far greater game. And I always play to win.'

Michael's car sat like a predator waiting to pounce. He didn't notice the way his hands shook, or the beads of sweat forming on his brow despite the cold night air. All he could see was the building in front of him, and all he could feel was the weight of his own obsession pressing down on him. 

The mystery man would pay. Angela would understand. And when it was all over, Michael told himself, everything would be as it should. 

Or so he thought.