2: Terrorist

Footsteps pounded behind Camilla. How the heck was he so fast? He sounded close, but she didn’t look back to confirm her suspicions. A sudden pressure on her hair made her screech to a stop. Pain spread through her scalp, and she bit into her lip to stop herself from screaming. The copper taste of blood filled her mouth. She placed both hands on her head to ease the pain.

The pressure finally reduced, but the pain lingered. Vanya stopped in front of her, the ends of her long ponytail wrapped around his fist. Her breath rushed out in ragged pants. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

Camilla took one step back, but the tug on her hair reminded her she wouldn’t get far. She had always prided herself on her long hair, but now she wished it wasn’t lengthy.

“Let. Go,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“The phone.”

“No.”

Vanya reached for her handbag, his hand tight around the strap. She tried to yank it from his grip, but it was nearly impossible. His grip was steel. They struggled, mostly her. He stared on in amusement as she tried and failed woefully to extricate her bag from his grasp. She would fucking sue him.

“This is harassment.”

“Making unsolicited videos of strangers while they shop is harassment,” Vanya replied. He had an accent, but she couldn’t place it. Faye never mentioned that. “Are you going to give it to me like a sane woman, or do I need to force it from you? Your choice. You seem to love the chase.”

It took a nanosecond for Camilla to decide. She let go of the bag, and his lips twitched. He grabbed the bag from under and emptied the content to the floor. Camilla winced as her makeup, dollar bills, phone, and packets of bubble gum rolled out of it. That makeup was expensive. Her phone, too. He sifted through the mess with his leather shoe, and she internally died. So classless. So brutal. So senseless. So rude.

“Can you be more careful?” Camilla said. He crouched to pick up her phone. “Did no one tell you not to search a lady’s bag?”

Vanya scoffed, rising to his feet with her phone. “Lady? You obviously don’t know the meaning of that word or how to be one. Ladies don’t snoop. Ladies mind their business.” Her lips parted in a rebuttal that never came because he said, “Password.”

“No.” She tipped her chin back. “Nope.”

The first sign of emotions flashed across his face. “Are you always this adamant? It’s getting boring. What’s the password?”

“Give me the phone, and I’ll put it myself.”

Vanya handed it over, and a small sound of shock escaped her. She couldn’t believe he gave it up that easily. He clicked his tongue at her expression, and she glared in return.

“I’m bigger, faster, and stronger than you. You’re only leaving here if I let you,” he said. It was the only reminder she needed to know not to mess with him. He nodded at the phone. He was so close. “Password.”

After unlocking the phone, Camilla didn’t return it to him. She held it close to her chest. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Phone,” he commanded.

Her hands shook as she handed it over. She bobbed on the spot as he scrolled through her photos. Maybe she should have left as soon as he walked in. But this only proved her point. Vanya wasn’t good for Faye. He finished and exhaled. She licked her bottom lip, her mind blank from worrying.

Vanya looked up and stretched his hand.

“What now?” she asked.

“Earring.”

Camilla blinked in shock. However tiny the earrings looked, they were expensive. If he wanted his, he could get it himself instead of demanding hers. “My-my earrings?”

Vanya continued staring, and she unclipped the first one. “One is enough,” he muttered.

“This-this is harassment,” Camilla repeated. But he said nothing to her. She had no choice but to drop the earring on his palm. “You could be arrested for this. You have ruined this boutique because I’ll sue every single person in this building.”  

Camilla might as well have been talking to a human statue. Vanya was quiet until he had ejected her SIM card tray and the SIM. What-what was this man doing? He offered her the earring alongside the SIM card and tray. Camilla didn’t know why she stepped back, but she backed away from the man.

“Van—” Camilla stopped mid-statement, a scream tearing out of her lips as Vanya smashed her phone on the tiled floor. She charged for him, her hands aimed at his face. She would scratch out his eyes. “Are you insane? You are ruining my phone.”

His foot came down on the screen, and it shattered even more. “Exactly the point.”

Camilla fisted her hands and let out a soundless scream. God. Her chest caved, and she struggled to let out air. She wasn’t a violent woman, but she wanted to hurt this man. To walk over him with her heels.

Vanya finished packing her stuff into her handbag and handed it to her. She glared at it. No way she wanted to touch it. Not after his filthy hands were all over it. “Next time, kot, mind your business. Is that clear?”

““I’m not kot,” she spat out. “Or whatever that is.” 

Vanya shoved the bag to her chest, and she staggered. She grabbed it before it could fall, and the foolish man had the audacity to bare his teeth to her in what she interpreted to be his triumphant grin. 

“Oh yes, you are,” Vanya told her. “Only cats sneak up on people like that.” 

Seething was the only thing Camilla could do. Vanya walked away, stopping at the top of the stairs to give a curt nod. Animal. He disappeared, and she looked around for her phone. It could be fixed. She would fix it. He couldn’t stop her from telling Faye who he really was. Her search was futile. The bastard must have taken the phone.

Camilla rushed to the stairs, but Vanya was downstairs. Seeing the man on a call, so relaxed after how he treated her, made her chest constrict with anger. She removed her shoe, hoping to God her aim today was accurate as she swung it in his direction.

Laughter burst out of her lips as the shoe connected with the back of Vanya’s head. He turned, his eyes narrowed as he found the culprit. She stood straighter, her smile so big her cheeks ached. Vanya picked up the black heel, holding it up by its strap.

How was that for being a sneaky cat?

He ended his call and pocketed the phone. “Good throw,” he told her. Camilla’s smile slowly wiped off her face. “I’ll keep this.”

She stared at her bare foot. “No. No way.”

Vanya lifted his hand in a brusque wave, and soon he was gone. No, no, he took her shoe. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Camilla was in deep shit. There were two options: limping out of the boutique or walking out barefooted. Both options were displeasing, especially for someone of her calibre. The paparazzi would have a feast at her expense. Her parents would disapprove. She had gone months without getting into trouble. She couldn’t do this to herself now.

Slipping the other shoe off her foot, Camilla began the shameful walk to the door. She ignored the receptionists in the lobby. They would so get sued. All of them, including the man who opened the door for her. How would she get to her driver? Stepping out of the boutique, she hugged herself as the cold air rustled her jacket and dress. There weren’t many people around now, but she stayed close to the cars lining the street so people wouldn’t notice her bare feet.

“Faye, your boyfriend is a terrorist,” she sang as she passed cars. “A terrorist.”

A car door slammed shut in front. The car looked familiar from here, but she needed to get close to confirm it was hers. Her parents just gifted it to her for Christmas. A tall man exited the black Mustang. Alvin looked back, and Camilla almost cried in relief. Her driver. Finally. Someone to help.

Camilla waved frantically until he noticed her. He frowned, his confusion not as cute as she always found it. She beckoned on him to come. The moment he appeared in front of her and noticed her feet, he picked her up bridal style.

“I didn’t say carry me,” she muttered into his chest, thankful for the reprieve. At the risk of sounding spoilt, this was one of the harshest things she had been subjected to.

“You have no shoes, ma’am.”

Neither did she feel like trekking. They got to the car, and Alvin tucked her into the backseat. “Thanks, Alvin,” she told him before he left for the driver’s seat. “Don’t tell anyone. Not even my parents, okay?”

“Understood.”

Camilla’s parents had recommended Alvin to her, so a part of her suspected he was spying on her for them. She couldn’t blame them for not fully trusting her. Among their three kids, she was the most reckless and probably the brattiest. But she was trying now. She had kept her current job for six long months. And she could continue if she remained on track. Filming would begin next month. She might have gotten the position because of her twin brother, Calvin, but she had proved her importance.

“Where to, ma’am?” Alvin asked.

Camilla placed her feet on the seat. They ached. She was sure blisters would form soon. “I lost my phone. Can you call Faye? We are supposed to meet up somewhere.”

“Will do.”

“I also need to make a stop for a new pair of shoes. Or maybe I’ll get some slippers.”

“Noted, ma’am. Anything else?”

Camilla shook her head and stopped. “Just so you know, Faye’s boyfriend is a terrorist.”

Alvin held her eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded. “Right. I’ll give her a call in one minute. But just to be clear, ma’am, you understand the definition of terrorist?”

“Right, Alvin.” Waving off the remark, she flashed him a fake smile. “Ignore me. Just call her.”

“Calling her now.”

While they both waited for the call to connect, Camilla spent that time imagining the many ways she would end Vanya’s life.

* * * GLOSSARY * * * 

Kot: Cat