A deadly Calm

Third person's POV

The knock came again as if the person at the door was being calculating and that was it for Drake. 

He squeezed Kingsley's hand reassuringly. 

"Stay here. I will go check who it is." He announced, standing up immediately. 

"Be careful." Kingsley whispered, his eyes darting to the dead body on the floor and Drake nodded in understanding. He knew what he meant. 

He moved quietly to the door, his footsteps barely making a sound. He opened it slowly and stepped outside, instantly shutting the door behind him. 

He was prepared for anything. But there was no one there. Just empty darkness ahead and even behind. 

"That is strange." Drake muttered, stepping further away from the door to look around, better. The night was silent, almost unnaturally so. 

He walked to where he had parked his car and checked around, but found nothing.

When he returned inside, Kingsley was waiting anxiously. 

"Did you see anyone?" He inquired. Drake furrowed his eyebrows. 

"No, nobody is there. And that worries me so much... Do you think someone followed me here?" He asked, sounding disturbed. 

"Hun, that doesn't sound impossible." Kingsley agreed with a calculating expression. 

"Even if they did, they should be the ones afraid, not us. Because if I find anyone suspicious hovering around this place or you, I won't feel guilty sucking the life out of them." He added with a slight smirk. 

Drake couldn't help but chuckle. 

"You are right about that." He agreed. 

"Now, let me take care of that..." Drake trailed off, gesturing to the body.

"No, I will handle it. You have done this enough times for me. Just... try to rest." Kingsley said. 

"Kings..."

"I mean it, Drake. Let me take care of you for once. Just relax. I can dispose the body alone and when I am done with that, I will fix you something to eat. Afterwards, we can cuddle a little before you go back home." Kingsley said, adding the last part with a mischievous grin. 

Drake snorted with laughter. 

"I know you know what you are doing, you naughty gorgeous man!" He chuckled. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later:

Moira sat at the dining table, absently pushing food around her plate when she heard the front door open. 

"He is back early today..." She thought as she heard the familiar footsteps of Drake. Many futile days of waiting for him to arrive had engraved the sound of his footsteps in her brain. 

"Welcome home!" She called out.

Drake appeared in the doorway, looking surprisingly cheerful. 

"Good evening, Moira." He said, then walked closer to her and did the unexpected. 

Moira blinked in surprise when he approached her, took her hand, and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" She asked, trying to hide her confusion at his unusual behavior. She expected him to decline as he had been doing for the past days but he did the unexpected again. 

"I would love to." Drake replied, settling into the chair opposite her.

That gladdened Moira's and she stood up, looking elegant in her simple flowing gown. 

"Let me serve you."

"Thank you." He said, watching as she filled a plate for him.

"How was your day?" She ventured, trying to hold a conversation as she returned to her seat.

"Productive. Yours?" Drake asked as he started to dig in. 

At his question, Moira set her fork down firmly. 

"Honestly? I spent another day reviewing case files from home when I should have been in court. There are many cases that need my urgent attention, and here I am, idling around the house. All alone!" She said and sighed heavily. 

Drake looked up from his plate and asked;

"You have been reviewing cases?" The question angered her. 

"Did you think I would just sit here arranging flowers?" Moira's tone was sharp but controlled. 

"I'm a lawyer, Drake. One of the best in this city. My clients need me." She added through gritted teeth. 

"I thought we agreed—" Drake was going to remind her of their agreement but couldn't finish. 

"No, you decided." Moira cut in. 

"And I have played along with this perfect housewife fantasy for three weeks because I understood the importance of appearances. Isn't it enough now?" She added firmly but still had control over her tone. She didn't sound angry nor bitter. 

Drake studied her face for a moment before responding.

"You are right. You have really tried to be supportive." 

"I'm going back to work tomorrow." She stated. It wasn't a question.

"I was actually going to suggest that. You have more than proven your commitment to this marriage." Drake said, his lips curving into a slight smile.

Moira raised an eyebrow. 

"How generous of you to give permission for something I wasn't asking permission for." She stated more to herself and Drake simply ate on. 

They ate in comfortable silence for a while before Moira spoke again. 

"The food turned out well today..."

"It did. The chef outdid himself." Drake replied. 

"Actually, I cooked this myself." Moira informed him. 

Drake looked up with genuine surprise on his face. 

"Really? I didn't know you could cook." He said. 

"There is a lot you don't know about me. Actually, I have had plenty of time to practice these past weeks." Moira said softly. 

"This is so delicious. You have really put your time to good use." He said in response. 

"Drake..."

"Hmm?"

"You seem... different today. Happier." Moira pointed out gently. 

"Do I? Maybe it is the excellent food. Or maybe I'm just grateful to have such an understanding wife." He said with a smile and ate on. She peered at him, wandering in her thoughts:

"If only I was able to follow him that day, I might be able to find out what he has been doing but I couldn't because of the impromptu client meeting..."

"Can we talk?" Moira set down her fork, her voice taking on a serious tone.

Drake's expression shifted slightly at that. 

"Let's not spoil this peaceful moment, Moira. It is nice, isn't it? Just sitting here, enjoying a meal together?"

"But-" She tried to make him see reason. 

"You look beautiful tonight, as always." Drake said, standing up. 

"I think I will take a shower now. And Moira? You can go back to work tomorrow if you would like." He added and didn't bother to wait for her response before turning to leave. 

She watched him leave, her food forgotten. The warmth of his unusual affection still lingered on her hand, but it left her cold inside. 

His sudden change in behavior after a week of moodiness and absence felt wrong somehow. The permission to return to work, while welcome, seemed too easy after his previous insistence on her staying home.

Moira pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. An unwanted but persistent thought crept into her mind. 

"Does he perhaps have a mistress?"