The Black Rose

I woke startled. The feathered softness of the sheets unfamiliar. I looked around, my naked body entwined in the sheets, a bare-assed Chinese man lay next to me on his stomach, his arms sprawled. My head pounded within the confines of my skull as fragmented vision surfaced from the night. Ugh, Zhang.

We lay in a massive California King bed, with the softest baby blue sheets I had ever laid in. I glanced around and the sun was barely peeking out from the clouds through the wall-to-wall windows covered in lavish curtains. Zhang was breathing heavily, his heartbeat slow. I pulled the sheets off me quietly as not to disturb. My feet hitting the cool wood floors, I tiptoed clumsily to the other side of the bed where his phone lay on the nightstand. I grabbed it swiftly. Swiping up, I put the phone in front of his drooling face, and it opened seamlessly. I grabbed mine and trotted swiftly to the bathroom.

Sliding the black metal door closed, I immediately started downloading the same software that allowed me to view Damien’s phone. The seconds seemed more like minutes as the program loaded. Using my phone to check its efficacy, I was in. I splashed water on my hungover face quickly, combed through my sex hair, and then quietly slid the bathroom door back open. Luckily, Zhang was still asleep.

Placing his phone back on the nightstand, I found my underwear and bra and began putting them back on. I heard a sigh and grunt, “Are you leaving me?” he rasped in a sleepy tone.

“Not without saying goodbye,” I smiled lightly, my southern accent springing back to life. I couldn’t wait to be back at my loft, ice pack on my head, lying in bed.

I moved to his side. He rose to greet me, his lips finding my exposed chest, he kissed gingerly. “Last night was…” he paused as I ran my fingers through his wild black hair.

“Was impressive,” I continued.

“Yes,” he smiled, kissing my lips lightly.

Actually, the hallucinations of Mia last night were impressive, they felt so real.

“I have to go before Mark gets too worried,” I uttered.

Zhang grumbled, “When will I see you again?”

“At your party, friday?” I asked, hoping Zhang remembered our conversation.

“That’s so far away,” he frowned.

“I’m sure you will have plenty of other women to keep you occupied,” I reproached, trying my best to conceal my contempt.

“None like you,” he bit my neck playfully.

“I doubt that,” I groaned, my head falling back skyward.

“I will see if I can sneak away sometime this week. Text me about the party details?” I implored, wanting to keep him focused and not wanting to have sex…again.

“I will,” he answered. “Let me get a driver to take you home,” he yawned falling back down on the bed, his skin-tight black boxer briefs clung to his taut smooth yellowed skin. I’ll give it to Zhang, he had an impeccable body.

Zhang grabbed his phone and pressed a few buttons, placing it to his ear. He spoke a few sentences in Mandarin and then hung up.

“A driver will be waiting for you at the front door,” he smiled.

I moved to grab my dress and shoes, putting both on with practiced efficiency.

“Thank you,” I smirked. “For a lovely evening.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he grinned in return. “In fact,” he paused, getting up from the bed and moving to the dresser.

He opened a drawer and pulled out an oblong box. “I want you to have this.” He turned and sauntered towards me, presenting the velvet box. I took it and opened it. Inside was a diamond bracelet.

“Wow, Zhang, I can’t,” I stammered. Also thinking, did he merely have jewelry on deck for his most prized booty calls?

“I insist,” he smiled. “Besides, now you have no excuse to miss next weekend or to accompany me to dinner this Thursday evening,” his eyes widened as the invitation slipped his lips.

“To dinner?” I mused. “I think I could manage that. I believe Mark leaves Thursday evening.”

Zhang grabbed my hand, and put the bracelet over my left wrist, and clasped it tightly. The glistening diamonds looked radiant.

“I look forward to Thursday then,” he muttered.

“Me too,” I added, beaming.

Zhang and I kissed one more time, and then I marched out the door, down the glass stairs, and to the open foyer with an indoor koi pond snaking under and around the stairs. I noticed all the cameras as I went. Once inside this fortress, it should be fairly easy to take out Li Chin. The problem would be doing so with little to no alarm or other casualties.

I guessed that would be a problem for Shadow. They could come up with the backstory. As long as I killed my target, I didn’t care who else might happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The driver opened the white Rolls Royce and I stepped inside.

“Where to, Madam?” he asked stoically, as if he did this on the regular.

“301 Vine,” I squeaked, which wasn’t the address to my building, but it was a block away. Safely in the car and on the way home, I opened my phone. I had ten texts. Damien was worse than an overbearing mother.

The Devil: Are you okay?

The Devil: Text me when you leave.

The Devil: Hello.

The Devil: If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m coming over.

The Devil: YOU BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN NAUGHTY

They went on and on. Luckily for me, it had been only fifty minutes since he sent his audacious threat.

Me: I’m Fine. Everything went smoothly. CALM DOWN.

That done, I moved to Mia’s phone. I hadn’t checked her whereabouts or texts last night. It appeared she was hard at work in her laboratory. Her lab was so secure, or possibly underground, that GPS tracking didn’t work, which was how I knew she was there. I scanned through her texts. Bob thanked her for a goodnight and asked if she would be open to dinner sometime this week, just the two of them. Mia said that she would love that and would look at her calendar for a day. I grit my teeth. Bob was a weasel. He pined over a woman who would never look at him the same.

Mia also had several texts from Abby, her best friend. In those texts, she actually mentioned me, the stylish, sophisticated, and beautiful journalist. Her friend even teased that Mia fancied me, to which Mia didn’t reply. My eyes widened, that same electric shock resurfaced.

I suddenly couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I wondered what time she would call? What day should we meet? What should I wear?

So many questions.

Satisfied with Mia’s phone, I moved over to Zhang’s. Zhang’s phone, unlike Mia’s, had every app categorized and every app had a unique intrinsic password. Now that I had this software on his phone, I had access to everything.

It appeared Zhang texted his father daily, and he was right, his father was a prick. Li Chin was the typical Chinese father who wanted their children to become either a doctor or lawyer or both. Zhang became neither, and instead, chose to remain within the family business. He maintained his father’s holdings in America as well as his father’s clients. Sometimes, it appeared, having to do the dirty work for his father.

I scrolled and scrolled. Zhang was in several group chats with his friends, and often texted at length with several other women simultaneously. I had hoped to gain more insight into his father, not for Shadow, but for my own understanding. Why Li Chin? Was he a competitor? Did he know too much?

“We’re here, madam,” the driver interrupted the silence.

I glanced out, “Oh, thank you.”

The driver came around and opened the door for me. I stepped out, the new diamond bracelet shimmered in the bright morning light. I waited for the driver to drive away and then I walked the block over to my building, “The Atelier”.

I placed my hand on the screen, and it ignited green. I stepped into the black-stoned entry and waved hello to an unfamiliar face. I knew I was walking the walk of shame, no one in their right mind would be dressed like this for breakfast. I didn’t care.

I placed my hand on the elevator door, and then one more time on my door. Inside my apartment, I threw the clutch on the entry table, sloughed off my heels, and marched straight to the shower. I washed the night’s worth of makeup, alcohol, drugs, and sex from my body.

Clean and refreshed, I made my way to the kitchen. Popping toast into the oven, I poured a stout glass of cool water. I gulped deep. I felt severely dehydrated. Why did water taste so good?

Dehydration lessened, I whipped my green dragon kimono around to the couch. Firing up my laptop, I jammed the signal, causing my spy cameras to freeze, I did a quick search of Mo and Cassy. They seemed to be jazzed for the upcoming Comicon, and I was just as jazzed. Seeing their familiar faces provided a sense of grounding to my reality.

Satisfied, I clicked on Damien’s information. The spyware I installed on his phone seemed to work. I flit in and out of his emails and texts. I didn’t have long before Shadow might notice the cameras were frozen and do a hard reset. I closed out of Damien’s file.

I clicked a new search engine and typed in Dr. Mia Semmens. While I had done extensive research on Mia, I hadn’t read much into her actual research. I hit the first scientific journal and soon found myself immersed in the world of genetic modification. Mia’s impetus for human genetic modification was to enhance a person’s brain to tackle intricate problems like climate change, renewable energy, and medicine. She argued, if we could make someone smarter, we would be one step further into solving our world’s greatest threats.

The more and more I dug, the more and more I came to understand Mia as a literal genius. Her research and technological inventions were not only groundbreaking, but she was doing this at an early age and with little to no help. It was safe to say I was developing a mad crush for Dr. Semmens. I found her intriguing, her mind on par with my own, mysterious, all-encompassing. Mia didn’t make my skin curl or my blood boil, the opposite.

I spent the remainder of the day and most of the night reading, stalking her critics, finding their addresses, their families, and at times, even plotting how I would kill them. I didn’t want anyone contradicting Mia, or worse, hurting her physically or emotionally. While my goal was to create some of the most thought-provoking questions I had ever asked in an interview (solely built to impress and waddle away at Mia’s exterior), I couldn’t think.

Soon my head began to pound and my muscles tensed. I furrowed my brow and pushed my forehead, the headache intensified. I needed sleep, or I needed to not be staring at a screen.

I rose from the couch, to which I had established my temporary office, and glanced around at the three glasses, orange skin peels, chips, and two plates on the coffee table. Had I really been here all day? I felt as if I had lost a good eight hours of my day in a trance, and I was just now waking to the carnage.

I grabbed my phone on the kitchen counter. Five text messages.

The Devil: Meet tomorrow at nine?

Me: See you then.

Zhang: I can’t stop thinking about last night.

Zhang: I want to see you sooner than Thursday.

Zhang: Could we do Tuesday? Whatever time works for you?

I rolled my eyes. Why was this so easy?

1-310-290-7108: Hi. This is Dr. Mia Semmens. Just texting, so you have my number. It looks like I have some free time Tuesday to meet for lunch. Would that work for you?

My eyes widened. I wasn’t expecting to hear from her until tomorrow. I paced back and forth looking down at her text. How had I missed this? Mia had text me two hours ago. I guess taking time to respond would be better than responding right away. I thought for a moment.

Me: Hey Mia! Tuesday sounds lovely. Would you care to meet at Cafe Ridicule?

I hit send. Holy hell. I would see Mia Tuesday. My heartbeat raced.

Me: I can’t stop thinking about last night either ;) I can’t do Tuesday. I have to be with Mark. Hopefully, I can see you Thursday. Chat soon.

My phone buzzed again. The same number appeared. My body fell back onto the kitchen counter, my legs unable to support the weight.

1-310-290-7108: Ridicule sounds perfect. I will see you there at noon?

Me: Noon sounds good. See you soon.

Eyes wide, my wheels churned with anticipation. What was wrong with me? I had killed over thirty people without a second thought. I never got nervous, I never paced. I could feel the anxiety begin to build again. “Ugh,” I sighed. I needed desperately to take control of my mood. I moved to grab my only source of sanity. My eyes narrowed. I only had five left. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.