A.N - Chapter courtesy of my good friend Moondancing Millie who has left me to actually post. She gets all the fun of writing, then I'm stuck with the annoying technical part. Hehe. Yeah, so who thinks that we should kick her? For waiting so long to update? I do! Plus she told me to say it. Probably so she can attack me when I take forever next time. xD

Enjoy.


Mysterious Girl

The Warning

threaten (verb, used with object) – 1. to utter a threat against; menace

2. to indicate impending evil or mischief

Several weeks passed, with no news of Marta. And to trouble my Madre further, two more girls disappeared, similar ages to my sister. It was no longer a coincidence – there was a pattern emerging, and something had to be done about it.

"De Silva." Paul spoke sharply, yanking me from my vengeful reverie. I eyed him sullenly, my fists curling automatically. I was yet to receive orders to arrest or otherwise inform him of any evidence we had against him, but it was all I could do to refrain from shoving him against the wall and squeeze his jugular till he gave me details as to the whereabouts of my beloved Marta. "Drive me to the convenience store; I need a cigarette."

My responding tone was cool. "Yes, sir," I said, reaching for my keys and smart chauffeur cap. "I'll have the car brought round in a few minutes." I left the room, my shirt damp and the back of my neck hot with rage. If that man had harmed my sister, I would make him pay…

"Susannah." I had nearly collided with her as I turned a corner, deep in furious thoughts. She jumped as she saw me, before resting against my chest, breathing hard. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you?"

"Yes," she panted. "I thought you were Paul. Nearly scared me to death." I became concerned.

"Why?" I asked, cautiously. "Is he causing you harm, Susannah?" She scoffed, and made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"Oh, save it, Prince Charming," she said, teasingly. "You know this heroine can look after herself fine." I released her from my embrace reluctantly. "Where you off to, anyways?" I lowered my voice.

"Paul wants cigarettes from the convenience store," I explained, placing my hat on top of my head, feeling important suddenly. "You know. The cigarettes." She nodded, knowingly, before tweaking my head with a cheeky grin.

"I love that hat on you," she replied, before running an affectionate finger down my cheek. "Make sure you wear it when you visit me tonight." I smiled, before saluting.

"Yes, ma'am." She rolled her eyes, before smoothing the shoulders of my uniform.

"You'd better go," she informed me. "It's been a few minutes; Paul will be wondering where his limousine is." I nodded, and bent my head to kiss her softly before making my way to the large and luxuriously decorated garage, where the limousine sat in all its ebony glory. I opened it quickly and climbed inside, relishing the cool and quiet, before starting the engine and backing out of the drive, ready to meet Paul.


"Thank-you, De Silva," Paul said with a nod, as I held the passenger door open for him. I closed it with a slam – I couldn't resist – and returned to the driver's seat, and stepping on the gas. It seemed futile, using the limousine and its fuel-consuming engine for a simple journey to the local store, yet for Paul to go by foot was impossible – he was stopped by screaming teenage girls on every street corner. And I didn't trust myself with the freedom going for him offered.

"I'll be back in a second," Paul announced, before stepping out of the car and disappearing into the store, reaching for dollar notes from his pocket before he'd even set foot inside. I drummed, bored, on the steering wheel, before fiddling with the radio in an attempt to get a reception. In between squeals and buzzes, however, I caught snatches of sentences:

Now a total of five girls missing… no leads as of yet … police doing all they can … counselling offered to families…

I scoffed. Propaganda; to make the public really believe the police were trying their best. At the last visit to the police station with my mother, half the employees had been gathered round a desk at the back, sharing a box of doughnuts and a flask of coffee.

Paul reappeared, pocketing a packet of Marlboros and lighting the one between his lips, before slipping into the back seat. I pressed a button to my right, making the intersection rise before the disgusting fumes could reach me in the front seat.

We passed several alleyways on our way back, each as dark and as gloomy as the previous one. I paused to examine interestedly the fifth one we passed whilst I waited for the lights to change from red to green, and noted that it could probably fit a limousine down it…

I turned the wheel, easing the limousine down it. Paul's voice sounded from the backseat.

"Hey! What the hell's going on?" I heard him reach for the door handle, and nudged the manual lock with my elbow – Paul was now trapped inside, where he would remain until I let him out. "De Silva!"

I opened my door, stepping out into the littered alleyway. I then slunk to release Paul from his prison, before seizing him around his collar and throwing him to the wall, bringing my face close to his threateningly.

"You're dating Susannah Simon," I said, in a voice that was no louder than a whisper. My voice was hoarse. "You have no idea how lucky you are." He didn't respond, yet a faint smirk appeared on his lips. I shook him hard.

"You hurt her," I continued. "And you'll live to regret it. And you touch my sister, and you're dead." Paul coughed, the foul stench of his smoky breath burning my nostrils.

"And you threaten me like this again, De Silva," he replied, smoothly. "And you'll be fired."

"I mean it," I said, before roughly releasing him. He adjusted himself, before tossing a disgusted look my way.

"As do I."

He got back into the car – without me holding the door for him – and I did the same, my fingers trembling. Had I now put Susannah in danger, just because of one moment of selfishness? Paul was now aware of my feelings for her, and no doubt he'd use that against me. I growled, furious with myself, before restarting the engine. I was an idiot.

Once we were back at Paul's mansion, we did not exchange another word. Instead, I was left silently to lock the car and return to the main part of the house by myself. I saw that Paul was watching his large-screened television in the lounge, and therefore crept upstairs to find Susannah, to warn her of my stupidity and selfishness.

"Susannah?" I whispered, as I tiptoed down the hallway. "Susannah, are you there?"

There was no answer. I found her door, and knocked on it gently. I repeated her name, now growing worried.

"Susannah?"

The door swung open, and a short-lived wave of relief swept over me, before I realised that the girl in the bedroom was not Susannah. It was not Susannah at all.

"Hey," said Maria, with an amused smile. "I'm back."