2002
He didn't know when he decided he was going to take the Chimera for himself, but once he did it was all he could think about.
Tiago, or Raoul, as he called himself these days, would watch the coveted yacht dock in the harbor. He would eye up the man who was constantly getting on and off the boat, and eventually he tracked down the man's name. He was called Cardoso, and he was a Macanese fixture in the casinos. He was mostly a fixture because of the hordes of women he ruled over, forcing them to sell their bodies and hand over a hefty portion of their earnings to him. He would send them into the casinos to find clients, but he was always close at hand. A glorified pimp, one who had the benefit of a long family history in Macau as well as all the right connections. Just a lucky bastard who happened to inherit one of the old prostitution houses, a blood-stained brand of old money, the sort of type that Raoul absolutely despised.
After he would watch the yacht pull in and the passengers disembark, he would follow Cardoso from a distance into whatever casino he decided to haunt on that particular night. Raoul started to get to know his routine – where he liked to go on what days of the week, the times he ate dinner and later left the premises, but more importantly Raoul started to learn which girls worked for him.
There were a few he'd kept an eye on. All of them were quite beautiful, extremely high end if Raoul had to guess what they charged. There was one in particular that it seemed that Cardoso often had it out for. Raoul always saw him grabbing her by the wrist and whispering things in her ear that left a scowl on her face. Sometimes that scowl reminded him of the look Olivia used to give him. This girl only gave halfhearted false smiles, the kind meant to entice and seduce, not real smiles. At this point Raoul had found that almost all women were this way; there was the smiles they gave to men when in public, to fools, and then there were smiles that were genuine and were so incredibly rare. A woman's genuine smile was something to be earned behind closed doors, he figured, and part of him wanted to earn this girl's smile.
She looked like she was of mixed ancestry, and he just assumed she was Macanese, but when he overheard her speaking fluently in French to a client he figured he was wrong. He only became more intrigued by her after that. A woman like her should be working for him, not a common buffoon like Cardoso who pranced around drunk and manhandled women at every chance he could.
Raoul's plan was ridiculous, but he knew he could make it work. Instead of killing Cardoso himself, he would have this girl do it for him. She could get closer to him than he ever could, and he wouldn't contaminate any potential crime scene that it resulted in. He was going to take the Chimera, come hell or high water. He was currently stuck with a shitty old cuddy cabin boat he'd come across, and it was time for an upgrade. A man with his own private island needed his own private yacht.
One night he'd sat at the bar and eyed up the intriguing sullen faced girl. She sat there chain-smoking Capri menthols and looking around listlessly. Cardoso was nowhere in sight, so she didn't have her false smile on. This was the perfect moment for him to approach her.
"Excuse me." he said as he walked over and sat in the barstool next to her, "I've seen you around here before."
She looked him up and down, and she seemed so unimpressed. Raoul was now so used to that look, and paradoxically it made him eager to please. Just another flaw that Olivia had left him with.
"Yes, I am a regular here." she said, and gave him one of her mock smiles, "I've noticed you as well."
"You have?"
"Men with blond hair and Spanish accents aren't very common in these parts." she says to him, a note of annoyance in her voice, "Though I figured you weren't interested in women."
He threw his head back and laughed, "You'd be surprised." he said to her, "Can I interest you in joining me for the night? I have a room here."
The look of disappointment in her eyes was clear but she nodded her head, "Yes. I can join you."
Raoul led her back to the room he'd booked, not a suite but still a decent room with a stocked mini bar and a nice view from the window. He grabbed a bottle of rum of poured her a shot.
"I didn't bring you here to sleep with me." he told her as he handed her the glass, "I have a different proposition."
He can see the panic in her eyes, but she just smiles that sordid fake smile at him, "There is an extra fee for certain things." she says, her voice only somewhat noticeably shaking.
"No, no." he says, taking his own shot, "This is about Cardoso. I want him out of the picture."
"What?" she says, the glass of rum now shaking in her hand, "Why?"
"Because he's clearly incompetent and obviously lacks any sort of morals or common sense."
The girl quickly takes the shot, "That's it? That doesn't make sense."
"I also want that yacht." Tiago tells her, "And you're going to help me get it."
"The yacht? You mean the Chimera?" she asks him, "How can I help you get it? He doesn't let me anywhere near it."
"You're going to kill him for me."
"What?!" she says, stepping back from him, "Is this a joke, or a prank? Did he set you up to this?"
"Not at all." Raoul tells her, and sits down on the edge of the bed, "I know he targets you. I can see how much you hate him. If you get rid of him then you can come work for me. You won't have to sleep with any old men or perverts on my watch. I could use someone like you as a decoy of sorts. The pay would be substantial – far more substantial than anything you've seen in this line of work. I know Cardoso only pays you peanuts once he takes all your earnings."
"You're not making any sense." she says, "You want me to kill him so you can take his yacht? Really?"
"Yes." he tells her with a simple nod.
She scoffs, "You're out of your mind." she says, and heads for the door.
"Wait!" Raoul calls after her, "I asked for your company, and I'll pay you accordingly."
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and fumbled through the bills inside. He just pulled them all out and handed them to her.
"It's 16,000 Patacas, is that enough?"
She stared at the wad of cash with wide eyes but took it quickly, "Yes it's… It's more than enough."
"What is your name?" he asked, crossing his legs and looking at her expectantly.
"Sévérine. My name –" she stared at the money in her hand for a moment before stuffing it in her pocketbook, "My name is Sévérine."
"Sévérine." he said with a smile, "Please think about my offer. I'll pay you handsomely. More than that, you'll always be allowed aboard the yacht. It's a true shame he forbids his employees from enjoying the very thing their wages pay for. If you help me win it, there will always be a place for you in the cabin."
She stared at him for a long moment, but she turned and left without saying anything else.
A few days later he found her at the same bar.
"Sévérine," he said as he approached her, "Will you join me for the night?"
She sucked in her breath but nodded, "Yes." she told him, as she put her cigarette out and followed him to the room he booked.
"Did you think about my offer?" he asked her as soon as the door closed behind them.
She bit her lip, "I have thought about it."
"And?"
"I'm not sure."
Raoul frowned, "What aren't you sure about?"
Her eyes darted all around the room until they finally settled on him again, "I'm not sure that this isn't a set up."
"A set up? No. Not even remotely. I know it seems bizarre, but I am being honest with you, darling." he murmurs as he grabs the bottle of rum again and pours into a shot glass, "You don't want a yacht?"
She rolls her eyes, "You want me to get the yacht for you, that's very different than having my own yacht. Besides, aren't there titles, and licenses, and taxes you need to pay on these things? How do you figure you'll manage that?"
"Patience, darling, I have a plan for all those issues."
"Don't call me darling." she says, "You don't know me."
"So be it." he sighed, "How much do I owe you for the night? 16,000 Patacas?"
She eyed him suspiciously, "Yes." is all she says.
Raoul pulls out the money and hands it to her unceremoniously.
"What is your name?" she asks him, and Raoul is caught by surprise at her question.
"Raoul." he says, "You can call me Raoul."
"Raoul what?"
"Raoul Silva."
"Mr. Silva." she says, "How often are you going to solicit me?"
"Until you say yes." he says with a smile, "I know you have it in you. I can see it. And I know you need a way to get away from him. Let the Chimera be that way."
She snatches the money from his hand and heads for the door.
"Sévérine?" he calls out before she can reach the doorknob, "Might I ask you something?"
"What?" she says as she eyes him suspiciously.
"Would you prefer if I were a usual paying customer? The kind that asks for your services?" he wiggles his eyebrows at her, wondering how she will react.
She looked him up and down and gave him one of those unimpressed frowns. "I'm not attracted to white men." she says, a note of distaste in her voice, "Let alone Spaniards with dark skin, or men who think peroxide blond is a good look." she was glaring at him now, "By the way, your roots are showing."
What a rude, racist bitch is all he can think as she leaves.
He looks in the mirror and confirms that she's right – his roots are showing. The next day he goes to the salon that he frequents, and though the women there stare at him with big eyes and sometimes cynical looks, they bleach his hair as he asks them to. He tips them well. Raoul didn't realize how hard maintaining blond hair was going to be when he decided his alter ego would have such a hair color.
Despite that, he finds her again a week later. She blows smoke in his face as he approaches, but he takes her up to his room one more time.
"What do you think, Sévérine?" he asks, pouring her yet another shot of rum as she stands close to the door.
"I'll do it."
He's shocked it happened this quickly, but he grins and hands her the shot of rum he poured.
"Wonderful!" he says as he puts his hand inside his coat pocket to pull out a small amber colored glass bottle, "This should do the trick."
"What is that?" she asks, uncertainty in her voice.
"Cyanide." he says bluntly, "It smells quite sweet, like almonds. It tastes very bitter though. I know that from experience."
She screws her face up in disgust, "You carry bottles of that around with you?"
"Oh no. Only when I come to visit you. I've been waiting for you to say yes." he tells her with a smile as he hands her the glass bottle, "It's hard to get your hands on this, so I need you to be very careful with it. Do you understand?"
Sévérine stares at the bottle in disbelief. "How am I to do this? You want me to poison him?"
"I've been thinking. We need to get him right before he goes to leave. During the commotion when he collapses, I need you to get the keys to the yacht."
"What about the guards he has? They aren't going to let you get on the boat."
"Ha, I'll deal with them." he says, "They're going to be my guards when this is all said and done."
She eyes him suspiciously, "Only for a price. Cardoso is.. he might be one of the wealthiest men on the planet. You think you can compete with him?"
Raoul smiled and hummed in amusement. He'd amassed quite a few Swiss bank accounts, as well as some other foreign accounts in the few years he'd been reinventing himself. It was a sum of money the old him could only dream of. He even felt confident that he had surpassed Cardoso in this regard.
"There's no competition, darling, I'm quite certain I have him beat."
"Is that so? Then why are you stealing his yacht? Why don't you just buy your own?"
The truth was that there was no sport in that. It seemed so dull to go and choose some prefabricated yacht in a marina while writing out a cashier's check to take home his prize. No, his prize was to be won - to be pried from the cold, dead hands of another man. His time in MI6 had made him bloodthirsty, a flaw he never could overcome since then; the twisted idea that anything worth having must be taken by brute force took root in his psyche. He knew it was all wrong, but he also absolutely loved the thrill of the hunt.
"That's no fun." he said, shaking his head, "I'll take his yacht, and his men, and his woman. How about that?"
"I'm not his woman." she spat, "I'd really rather die. And I'll never be your woman either."
"I never asked you to be. I'm only asking that you come to work for me. Don't worry, my little Sévérine, I have no interest in a woman who is clearly as disgusted by me as you seem to be. Remember what I told you – the rewards will be great, it will be sums of money you've only ever dreamed of. I know you watch these casino games every night; don't you wish to be sitting at the table with those people? Throwing down a few million in bids? That can be you. And it will be you. After you kill Cardoso for me and get me that yacht."
She looked back down at the bottle of cyanide in her hand, "I don't gamble. And besides, you're insane."
"Maybe. I've had enough brushes with death to know that life is to be lived to the fullest. This is how I do it."
They spent the next hour devising up a plan. Sévérine was to spike Cardoso's last drink of the night before going off with a client. She would be far from the scene when he collapsed. Raoul would go and take his prize in the harbor, subduing whatever guards he had to. He was older now but despite all the trauma his body had been put through he was still more than capable of overpowering a man, especially with the two Rugers he always had strapped at his sides. Then he would wait for her. He instructed her to get rid of whatever client she was with by using the cyanide on them as well and make her way as quickly as possible to the boat. They'd cast off, and he would take her to his island.
Sévérine did not believe him when he mentioned that he had his own private island.
"Do you remember a chemical spill that was reported two years ago? On a small island called Hashima. It made the news, I know it did, since I watched the broadcast."
"Hashima?" she pondered for a moment, "Yes. I do remember hearing something about that. I honestly hadn't cared at the time."
"That's my island." he told her, unable to conceal the pride in his voice, "There was no chemical spill. I just made them think there was. I live there full time and I have a few men I've hired to keep guard at night. It's very quiet. No traffic, no bright lights, no casinos. I very much like it there. It reminds me of my childhood." he unintentionally smiled then, thinking of his grandmother's small island where at night all he could hear was the sound of the waves against the shore. Hashima was somehow even quieter than that.
"You're a strange man, Mr. Silva." Sévérine said, tucking away the glass of poison in her pocketbook, "When are we to pull this off?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? That's barely any time to prepare!"
"What do you need to prepare? It's a simple plan. We will do it tomorrow. I know Cardoso goes to The Venetian on Thursdays, you're to follow him there, understood?"
She nodded but said nothing.
"Here," he told her, reaching in his pocket and pulling out another huge wad of cash, "30,000 Patacas tonight. I kept you for quite a while. Don't spend it all in one place."
She took the money very hesitantly, much more hesitantly than she had snatched it from his hands the two times before.
"Tomorrow." she said to him, as if she was trying to steel herself for the journey that lay ahead.
"Tomorrow! After tomorrow you won't have to worry about Cardoso or any of those lecherous men who solicit you ever again."
When she left he prepared for bed, deciding to remain in the hotel room rather than navigate the dark waters in his tiny boat at this hour. He didn't remove his prosthetic tonight, though he usually did, and instead he laid the left side of his face down on the pillow and felt the ceramic teeth digging into his cheek. His cheek would be raw for a few days after this, but he didn't care.
That night he dreamed of Olivia. He dreamed they were on his island, sitting amongst the rubble while shoulder to shoulder, staring at the horizon as the sun set.
"What happened to your face?" she asks suddenly, and when he turns to her she's glowering at him.
He lifts his hand up to his cheek and realizes he doesn't have his prosthetic in.
"You don't know?" he asks, and then he remembers that she didn't know anything about what happened during his captivity, "It was you. You did this to me."
"I would never." she says defiantly.
When he opens his eyes it's already morning, so he jumps up and prepares for the big day ahead.
The plan went off perfectly.
Sévérine took off her heels and ran down the dock towards him, a huge grin on her face. A real grin, one that she wasn't putting on for some ulterior motive.
"It's done?" he asked.
"Yes!" she says exuberantly, and he is surprised that when she reaches him she kisses him full on the mouth. He sums it up to her excitement, being a young woman who was finally liberated from her moronic and callous keeper.
There had only been three guards on the yacht to begin with, and Raoul had dealt with two of them swiftly, putting a bullet in each of their brains and dumping the bodies overboard. The third he kept alive, and when he offered the man a job he took it rather than be shot. Once he'd told his new employee where to navigate to, he went off to explore the yacht, and both he and Sévérine indulged in a bottle of Cristal that was on the wine rack, just ripe for the taking. They laughed and jokingly drank the champagne straight from the bottle as they jumped on the once pristine white leather sofa to proclaim their victory. Raoul chuckled at the dirty scuff marks he left all over the sofa; what was once a prized possession was now his new toy to destroy. It felt good.
Eventually Raoul excused himself, wanting to wash the sticky champagne off his skin and hair, since it had splashed everywhere during their celebrations. He made his way to the shower stall, which he was pleased to find was outfitted with a rather nice rainfall showerhead. Raoul stripped and stepped under the water, letting himself bask in the taste of victory. This yacht was all his now while that fool Cardoso lay dead somewhere on a casino floor. He ran his hands over his face and smiled to himself, thoroughly pleased that he had managed to pull such a heist off. A sound from outside the shower stall caught his attention, and after hearing some stirring he heard footsteps join him under the water. Raoul swept his soaked hair away from his eyes and saw Sévérine standing next to him, totally nude and looking at him with big eyes.
"What are you doing?" he asked, taking a step backward.
"I wanted to join you." she said seductively, taking another pace towards him.
"You told me you weren't interested." he said, taking yet another step away from her, confused as to why she was invading his private space.
She didn't say anything but reached out and touched his cheek, his left cheek, and he realized she had no idea about the metal plate in his mouth that kept his palate stable. Raoul found it hard to not recoil. There had been no women since Olivia. Men, sure, a few of those here and there, but not a single woman. He couldn't bear it – he couldn't bear the thought of touching another woman while knowing he could never touch Olivia again.
While he was standing motionless she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. He had to admit it felt nice. Against his own wishes he felt himself grow hard, having not been so close to a woman in nearly five years. When she pulled back she smiled at him, a real smile, "The blond hair has grown on me." she told him, "Thank you for touching up your roots."
Though he had a feeling they both would regret it in the morning he allowed himself to touch her. He only briefly thought of Olivia, a small memory of running his soapy hands along her body popped into his mind, but it quickly faded away. Sévérine was so much different than Olivia, and as he kissed her the past seemed to fade away for a bit.
Raoul watched Sévérine swimming in the crystal blue waves from where he sat on the beach. She looked stunning; not because of her body, even though it was nearly flawless, but because of the wide smile on her face. She looked truly happy in a way most people never did.
He sipped his drink, some sort of fruity concoction served in a coconut with a wide mouthed pink straw and tiny umbrellas sticking out of it. They told him it had alcohol in it, but he couldn't taste any even if it was there. Just another rip off by the beach vendors, but it's not like it mattered much.
Phuket was nice. There were tons of tourists, but the weather was superb and the beaches were gorgeous. Sévérine loved it and spent all her time in the water. Raoul mostly sat on the beach, slathering on tanning oil and baking himself in the sun, which made Sévérine scrunch up her nose in displeasure. The difference was obvious when he would remove his swim trunks in their rented bungalow, his tan line dividing the light olive skin of his bum and upper thighs with the dark brown of the rest of his body. While he sported his blond hair and heavy tan with confidence there was no doubt that he certainly looked unusual.
"You're so dark." she would say to him with disdain, but she would kiss him anyway. During all the years he lived in Hong Kong he knew that he could never measure up to the typical Asian standards of male beauty. He would never have pale porcelain skin and the bridge of his nose was never quite right, but he was so used to the casual racism directed at him for being a gweilo that it hardly registered when Sévérine made such comments. She fucked him anyway, enthusiastically at that, so who was he to complain.
She emerged from the water and sat down next to him, kicking sand everywhere as she moved. She picked up her own drink, a similar sugary mixture but hers was served in a pineapple. He looked her over, noting the sand stuck against her moist skin and the way the waves of her hair fell over her shoulders. It had been nine months since they'd taken the yacht and she begun to work for him. Most nights she snuck into his bed, and he never turned her away. It wasn't long before she found out about his face. He expected the nighttime visits to stop after that, but they never did. She looked at his ruined face with stoic eyes, and if she thought he was disgusting for it she never let on. Raoul felt himself growing quite fond of her after that.
"So," he said, meeting her eyes, "Does this make you my girlfriend?"
"What?" she says, "What makes you say that?"
"We're here on this romantic holiday, aren't we?"
She looked around, "Don't you think girlfriend is a bit of a juvenile term?"
"Juvenile?"
She shrugged, "I prefer lover. How about that?"
"Whatever you say, darling." he told her with a smile and then took another sip of his sickly-sweet drink.
Sévérine pulled out a bottle of sunblock and started rubbing the thick white substance into her skin, humming along to a song she often sang, "Boum, le monde entier fait boum, tout avec lui de boum.." Even though he understood very little of the song, it often would get stuck in his head once she started singing or whistling it.
As he listened to her humming he lay back in his chair and closed his eyes, feeling the heat of the sun against his skin, like warm healing rays after an eternity of darkness.
This was the farthest Olivia had been from his thoughts in years.
2006
James Bond sits in her office once again. It's a scene that plays out far too often. Maybe she sends him on too many missions. Maybe he fucks up more than he should.
"Did you ever have any idea?" Bond asks, his voice is flat but she sees pain in his eyes. Ever since Vesper that look never quite goes away, the look of someone who is searching for something that can't be found. Sometimes Olivia wonders if she has that look in her own eyes. Now that this latest mission had come to pass he seemed even more lost.
"No, 007, I didn't." she tells him.
It's the truth. She was just as surprised as him to learn that 006 was still alive – or rather was alive. He was most certainly dead now. It was a blow to her pride to learn yet another agent, let alone another double-0, had gone rogue. Trevelyan was a turncoat, or maybe not even; maybe he'd just been trying to pull off the long con so long that she felt at ease around him. Tiago had blackmailed her, but he never attempted to betray Britain, not like 006 had.
"I asked you many years ago if you and Trevelyan were involved. I'm not asking you to tell me anything else, but I am asking you to take this as a lesson. It's the people closest to us that hurt us the most. Don't ever forget it."
Bond just stares at her, but a micro-expression briefly passes over him as his lips and jawline twitch.
He understands. The acknowledgment between them goes unspoken; he knows she speaks from experience. He doesn't have to know anything else.
2007
Agent Lau is much older now, with flanks of grey hair at his temples and a few additional scars, but he's still as handsome as ever. He sits across from Olivia in her office, politely sipping some brandy. After the handover he had been transferred to London on a part time basis, and while he still kept a residence in Hong Kong where his wife and daughter resided, he would often spend many weeks in the flat MI6 provided for him in Britain.
"I trust you understand all the instructions Q branch gave you regarding the trackers you've been outfitted with?" Olivia asks him, sitting up straight at her desk, feeling hints of nostalgia as she spoke with Lau. She could hardly believe the young man she'd once known had blossomed into this true gentleman, one of their best agents. Through all the years he had remained one of her favorites.
"Of course, ma'am." he nodded, "I'm confident in my abilities with them. Have I ever failed you with these newfangled devices, anyway?"
"No, 005, of course not. I know you're more than capable of anything I throw at you."
Lau smiles, and for a moment it's as if she's in front of that fresh-faced twenty-something again. Has it truly been twenty-two years that he's been working for her?
"If you don't mind, ma'am, might I vent about something that's been on my mind?"
Olivia cocks her brow, "Go ahead, 005." In all the years he's been with MI6, Agent Lau has never had a single complaint he's raised to her, even when he probably had a right to.
"Well, it's just –" he pauses, "I have my concerns about 003."
The position of 003 had been replaced as swiftly as possible. Olivia had handpicked one of their young field agents, a gorgeous young woman with wild raven hair named Madhuri Malhotra, who had always seemed eager to please if not a bit overenthusiastic about her service to MI6.
"Agent Malhotra? I've only received good feedback about her, what are your concerns?"
"Erm," Lau tilts his head, "She is quite passionate."
"Passionate, 005? You're going to have to elaborate on that."
"On our missions – I know I've only been on two of them with her, but – she just seems to get carried away. She often forgets to put the mission first. She lets the things that people say get to her. She gets sloppy –" Lau pauses and looks at her for permission to continue, "Once a man merely made a comment about the outfit she was wearing and she nearly ate him alive. I had to remind her to keep her cool lest we be compromised. She gets incredibly easily distracted. Truly I have no idea how she passed her double-0 training; she's always getting a temper and it seems like she has a loose trigger finger."
"In all the training and testing we put 003 through she never displayed any of the traits you're describing." Olivia told him, "She seemed very straightforward."
"Well, perhaps she put on a good show for you. I can tell you in the field it's a different story. She's just so quick to anger. It concerns me. If you want my honest opinion, she almost reminds me of Tiago at the end of his career."
Olivia stiffens at the mention of that name, having not heard it in years.
"I'm sure Agent Malhotra has her reasons, but I will speak to her about this matter." Olivia says, more coldly than she intends, "And 005? With all due respect, please never speak that name in my presence again."
Lau's eyes briefly widen, but she can tell he understands.
"Of course, ma'am. All I mean is that 003 shows some adverse habits. That's all."
"I'll take it into consideration, Mr. Lau." she concludes, "Thank you for telling me."
Lau is dismissed and Olivia spends the rest of her day alone, but her mind wanders back to Tiago. She honestly hasn't thought about him in so long. Sometimes it's as if he never existed.
Before she goes home, she wanders to the memorial wall and scans over all the names written there. She sees Desmond Hendricks and smiles sadly, but her eyes keep wandering until she finds what she came here to see.
Santiago Rodriguez
She lets her fingers graze the engraving with the same tenderness they would as if she grazed his skin. She shivers at the memory. Another memory of his dark eyes pops into her head, and she takes her hand away as if she's been burnt. The wall is cold and lifeless, nothing like the warmth she once felt.
Then she goes home to Matthew and dreads the dreams that the night will bring.
Even though all the guidebooks said that Venice was the most romantic city in the world, Raoul found himself disagreeing with that statement.
It was crowded with teeming hordes of tourists, and the canals let off a foul stench that he certainly didn't appreciate during the heat of midday. Sévérine, on the other hand, seemed to love the city. They rented a Vespa and she sat on the back, pointing at all the Renaissance architecture as they rode through the cobblestone streets. It made Raoul happy to see her happy, it made him feel like he had earned her smiles.
She had asked him for a European holiday one rainy and dreary day on Hashima, and he had obliged her on a whim. A week later they were on a flight to Portugal, where they spent a few days on the beach in the Algarve, before moving on to Spain where he showed her the city of his father's family roots in Málaga. They then spent a few days in Barcelona before moving on to southern France, where Sévérine's mother was originally from. It was a region she was very keen to see. She especially loved it there, and they spent some days laying on the beach in Saint-Tropez and later ate Bouillabaisse on their terrace in Nice while overlooking the sea.
Eventually they moved on to Italy, where both had ate so much good food that Raoul swore they must have put on 5 kilos each in less than two weeks. Still though, he was not really liking Venice. On this particular day they walked along the crowded streets, with him laying the palm of his hand on the small of her back like usual. She was leading him towards the restaurant they were going to for lunch. Sévérine had made them reservations at Cantina Do Spade, and she had gushed about how it was one of the oldest still operating restaurants in the world. Raoul didn't care that much, but he was feeling very peckish so it would do.
They ordered a few glasses of wine and settled in. It wasn't as if time or money was limited, so they got all the cicchetti they wanted, and then pasta and grilled fish, and enjoyed the meal for what it was.
"So, we'll go on a gondola ride next, is that alright? I've found one that stops under the Bridge of Sighs. It's supposed to be good luck if you kiss under it." she said to him with seductive eyes, taking a sip of her red wine.
"Whatever you'd like, darling." he told her before stuffing his mouth with another forkful of spaghetti, "We still have another night here, it's not like we have to cram everything in all at once." he reminded her.
After Venice their last stop in Europe would be Rome, before they boarded a flight back to Macau where the Chimera was waiting in the marina for them. Raoul was looking forward to going home, to going back to his quiet little island where he could play on his computers and enjoy the silence. On the other hand, he could tell that Sévérine never wanted this holiday to end.
Lunch eventually ended and they prepared themselves to leave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a couple that was about to be seated, and while he couldn't see the face of the woman, he found himself focusing on the man.
He was a tall man with a shock of white hair and a well-manicured white moustache to match. His eyes were large and grey, and there was a certain soft kindness to the features of his face. Raoul swore he had seen that face before. He just couldn't place it.
The woman that this mystery man was with had wandered off as soon as the hostess seated them. Raoul watched her from behind as she walked away. She was short, oh so tiny, and she too had a head of short white hair. Raoul felt a sudden unwanted tug at his heart – that woman reminded him so much of Olivia. She even walked like her, and he imagined that by this point Olivia must also have completely white hair. She was never the type to dye it. His eyes darted back to the man. He was sure he'd seen him before.
"Are you alright?" Sévérine asked him, noticing him staring at the strange man he couldn't place.
"Yes." he told her, "I just thought I recognized that man."
Sévérine glanced at him, "I've never seen him before."
"I think I have." Raoul said, running his hands through his blond hair before he put on his straw fedora, "Let's just go."
They packed up and left the restaurant, walking slow since their bellies were overstuffed from the decadent meal they'd just had. Sévérine guided him to the gondoliers that she knew took the route she desired, and they jumped on one of the rickety boats, hoping seasickness wouldn't hit them.
Their gondolier pointed at the Bridge of Sighs once they reached it, and recounted the story about how lucky it was to kiss under it. Those who kissed under it were destined to find eternal love - at least that's how the story went. As Raoul felt Sévérine's lips against his he could think only of Olivia. She also would have loved this city, and in some other life he would have taken her here and instead been kissing her under this tourist trap of a bridge.
Suddenly he heard Sévérine yelp in pain. He had squeezed her upper arms too hard as they kissed.
"I'm sorry." he said as he pulled away.
"It's alright." she told him, putting her arms around his middle as the gondola ride continued.
Raoul's heart ached in a way he hadn't acknowledged in many years. He looked at all the limestone buildings as they passed and wondered what Olivia was doing at that very moment.
You pompous, ignorant bitch, he thought as they cruised along, it could have been you.
"I have reservations to the most interesting restaurant in Venice." Matthew told her with a cheeky grin.
"Oh?" Olivia asked as she finished dressing, completing her outfit by placing a strand of black pearls around her neck.
"It's called Cantina Do Spade, and it's said that Casanova used to be a regular there." Matthew said with a wink, "Plus they have good reviews. I think we'll like it there."
"I certainly hope so, I'm starving." Olivia told him.
They made their way to the restaurant, holding hands as they went. It had been Matthew's idea to make a stop in Venice, since he had always wanted to see it. They originally traveled through Tuscany with their eldest daughter and grandchildren, but they were both eager to extend their holiday. Olivia was finally getting a much needed break from the office. She had taken a liking to Venice so far; it was certainly the romantic destination it promised to be. She didn't like the smell of the canals or the huge crowds, but aside from that she was enjoying herself.
Once they reached the restaurant Matthew put in their names at the front and the hostess sat them as soon as she could, leading them through the darkened dining room and placing their menus down on the table.
"I have to use the loo," Olivia told Matthew as he took a seat, "Order me a glass of wine. You know what I like."
She excused herself to the lavatory where she touched up her makeup in the mirror. Her eyeliner was melting off in the summer sun and made her look horrid. It took her a few minutes to fix it up to her standards, but she finally had to give up and just make her way back to the table.
As she opened the door, she caught sight of a couple leaving the restaurant. The woman was lovely, with dark wavy hair cascading down her back and a blue satin dress on. Olivia caught sight of the woman's face; she seemed to have some Asian features and was smiling widely at the man she was leaving with, her eyes sparkling in joy. Olivia knew that look anywhere, the look of a woman who was completely in love.
The man, on the other hand, is what really caught Olivia's eye. He was in a linen suit with a straw fedora on, and if she didn't know better, she would say his body type and gait reminded her so much of Tiago. It was alarming to suddenly think of Tiago, but this man just reminded her of him so much. It even seemed like they would have been the same height. Olivia saw a patch of blond hair sticking out from underneath his hat and felt herself exhaling a breath she didn't know she was holding. It was then that it hit her, that Tiago was dead.
She never saw the man's face, but she watched as he placed his palm protectively on the small of the woman's back and it strangely made her heart skip. Tiago used to do that same thing to her. The couple left the restaurant and Olivia could only stand there staring for a long moment. It was a strange mix of grief and jealousy that overtook her, and she forced the feelings down. Once she collected herself she made her way back to the table where Matthew was sitting.
"Are you alright, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Matthew said with concern as she sat across from him.
"I'm fine." she said, and tried to smile in reassurance, "Completely fine."
As she and Matthew ate, she found her mind wandering back to Tiago. She wasn't sure if he would have liked Venice, but she wished that he was here to see it with her. There was a time he had told her that he wanted to see different cities with her, to whisk her off on romantic little getaways. That never did happen. It would have been nice if they could have made it to Venice together, but some things were not meant to be. The food she was eating might as well have turned to ash in her mouth, she barely tasted it as bitter thoughts of Tiago flashed in her mind.
Once they'd finished lunch Matthew led her out of the restaurant and guided her towards some gondoliers who were accepting riders.
"When in Venice?" he said as he gestured to the gondola, and Olivia was not going to say no to him.
As they glided along the canals Olivia couldn't stop herself from still thinking about Tiago. She missed him desperately. Eventually she found herself thinking of all the people she had lost over the years, all the people who couldn't be here with her now, enjoying this frivolous gondola ride through a city that was far beyond its prime.
"This is the Bridge of Sighs." the gondolier said as they glided under a limestone bridge, "It's good luck to whoever should kiss underneath it. It will guarantee you eternal love!"
Matthew quickly leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips, "Now you have eternal love!" he said to her and smiled, tousling her short hair.
Olivia smiled back at him, but instead she wanted to cry.
In another life it would be Tiago in this gondola with her.
You arrogant fool, she thought, it could have been you.