All Chapters of The sweet smell of seduction: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

 Paris, present “Is that his house?”  We had to blink a few times to believe it. Either Adam Arnault is a man who invites danger into his life or an idiot who denies to himself that nothing can happen to him. Only one of these options would explain the fact that his huge residence does not have cameras or multiple security guards as was the case in Jean's house.  The modern architecture alternating in glass, wood and perfectly finished walls that confuse any pair of eyes that it is wallpaper and not paint and cement, accuse it of being his own house and not one he inherited from his family.   

“ Bonjour, un café, s'il vous plaît!” I am the first to arrive at the café in front of the newsstand where newspapers and magazines are sold. Unfortunately, it is still closed, which suggests that my anxiety has managed to beat even the sun this morning. I sip my coffee while my fingernails are tapping on the small wooden table, marking the seconds that this employee is late.  It is already the second cup of coffee and nothing from him. I take a deep breath, mentalizing that I cannot behave like a stressed-out boss who converts every minute into money. Because anyway, the people I care about reading the fantastic good news are still sleeping wrapped in their imported sheets. And thank heavens I don't have to order a third cup of coffee, the clerk arrives and with him

 The place where nobody wants to be found is not only a neighborhood, it is a hiding place for those who wish to escape from the light of the city, the rules, and who knows about themselves. Coming here in broad daylight exposes the cries of revolt left as soon as night falls, the mother of the lost and of those who find in darkness the best place for their demons to shelter. The graffiti resembles portraits of rebellion, where disorder is the only rule to follow. Smoke stains also bid Welcome, and bottles shattered across the floor are traces of a map of those looking for a hand-to-hand adrenaline rush.  Because no matter if it's Paris, deep down, we are all human and it's enough to feel excluded enough to create our own underworld that opposes the perfect ideal from which we were rejected...   “ So, this is it!”,  warns Larissa as soon a

Amélia's residence is what you might call a real apartment. With four spacious rooms and a failed attempt to imitate Adam Arnault's decoration, in a version in nude colors and a gray belonging to occasional objects such as sofas, pictures, and carpets. However, the bills left under the door deliver that everything here is not yet entirely hers. There are a lot of installments missing and some are overdue. But, the need to keep herself on another level puts what is essential in second place and drowns her in a sea of debts, which are not worse than the ones she will have to pay for me.  After a brief reading, I put the correspondence on the glass table in the dining room and go to find the refrigerator in the kitchen at the other end of the house. It is as well equipped as Jean's, but a complete waste confirmed by my disappointment when I open

A Week Later Jesus said, "But I tell you, do not resist an evil person, but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn to him the other also. To turn the other cheek is not to surrender to anger, but to be wise in the way we react to injustices and violence suffered, so that God is glorified in our actions and reactions. As we react by repaying evil with good, we impact people with a strong testimony about the action of the Eternal in our lives. “Amen!”, say the faithful present in leather.  The church is almost full. It gives me a sense of peace to know that everyone present here is as flawed as I am. I have not come after forgiveness like the others, just relief from my sins. The candles bring a little l