Chapter 12: Flames in the Fog

John’s office, cluttered with books and papers, breathed the scent of old paper and coffee, but the air grew thick with tension as Lucy shed her coat. Her naked body, pale with the curves of her hips and breasts, gleamed in the dim light, her auburn hair cascading like flames over her shoulders, framing her face. Her eyes, dark and burning with desperation and desire, were filled with a fervor that seemed ready to plunge into an abyss for him. John stood by the desk, his fingers still touching the envelope, but his gaze was cold, almost icy, though a new strength, forged in the temple of Varanasi, pulsed within him.

“John,” Lucy whispered, her voice trembling but laced with seductive huskiness. She stepped closer, her hips swaying, her breasts rising slightly with her ragged breath. “I’ve waited so long. I need you. You have no idea how much.”

He looked at her, his eyes narrowing, but they lacked the warmth she might have hoped to see. “Lucy,” he said coldly, his voice as sharp as a blade. “You came here… like this? Why?”

She flushed but didn’t back down. Her fingers brushed his shirt, slowly gliding over his chest. “For you,” she whispered, her lips nearing his neck, her breath hot. “I can’t live without you, John. You’re in my head, in my skin. Let me be yours.”

John grabbed her wrist, his grip firm, almost rough. He pushed her hand away but didn’t let go, his fingers tightening on her skin. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice low, edged with control. “If you want this, it’s on my terms.”

Lucy trembled, but her eyes flared with obsession, as if his coldness only fueled her. He slowly, commandingly, lowered her to her knees before him, her auburn hair spilling over her shoulders, and she looked up at him, her lips quivering with desire. “I’ll do anything you want,” she whispered, her voice almost pleading. Her fingers reached for his belt, unbuckling it with feverish speed. John didn’t stop her, but his gaze remained cold, as if he were looking through her. She pulled down his pants, her hands trembling, and her lips enveloped his erection, greedily, with desperate enthusiasm, as if pouring all her obsession into him. Her tongue moved quickly, slickly, her throat tightening with soft sounds, her eyes, filled with desperation, never leaving his. Her guilty yet pleading gaze tried to catch and read the slightest of his desires, as if seeking approval from her new master.

John grabbed her auburn hair, his fingers tangling roughly in the strands, controlling her movements. He pushed her head, his thrusts sharp, almost merciless, and Lucy moaned, her sounds hoarse, filled with submission and desire. Her lips slid over his erection, her tongue swirling, and her hands gripped his thighs, as if afraid he’d push her away. But John remained cold, his eyes looking down at her without warmth or pity. He held her head, his fingers tightening in her hair, and his rhythm grew harsher, as if he were pouring all his strength, all the control awakened in Varanasi, into her.

Suddenly, the office door creaked, and John heard a familiar voice. “John? Are you here?” Kate. His heart raced, not from passion but from shame. He couldn’t let her see this. With one swift motion, he pulled Lucy away, her lips leaving him with a wet sound, and she gasped in surprise. “Into the closet,” he hissed, his voice low but commanding. Lucy, still trembling with desire, obediently crawled to the closet in the corner, her auburn hair swaying as she vanished behind the door. John quickly zipped his pants, his movements sharp, and turned back to the desk, trying to appear calm.

Kate entered, holding a folder of papers. Her green dress had been replaced by a business suit, but her posture still betrayed a slight awkwardness. “I… brought you the reports,” she said, her voice quiet but professional. “And that notebook I mentioned. It’s on your desk. You… okay?”

John nodded, his face impassive, but inside, shame gnawed at him. “All good, Kate. Thanks for bringing them.” He took the folder, his fingers trembling slightly. “Anything urgent?”

She shook her head, her eyes lingering on him, as if sensing something was off. “No, just… thought you might need them. I’ll go if you’re busy.”

“I’ll call,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with haste. Kate nodded, her smile restrained, and left, her footsteps echoing in the corridor. John waited until the door closed before opening the closet. Lucy slipped out, her face flushed, but her eyes burned even brighter, as if the humiliation had only fueled her obsession.

“You hid me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but strangely gleeful. She stepped closer, her naked body pressing against him. “But I’m still yours.”

John grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin, and pushed her against the window, her back hitting the cold glass. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice low, almost threatening. “I don’t care who sees.” He unzipped his pants, his erection, still hard, pressing against her thigh. Lucy trembled, her eyes widening with fear and desire.

“John,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “They might see us… from the street…”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, his hands lifting her, pinning her against the window. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her vagina, wet and hot, taking him in as he entered her with one sharp thrust. Lucy cried out, her moan hoarse, filled with pain and pleasure. Her breasts swayed with his thrusts, her nails dug into his shoulders, and her auburn hair stuck to the glass as he pushed harder, his movements rough, almost ferocious. She moaned, her voice mingling with anxiety and obsession, but John didn’t stop, his coldness unyielding, as if he were pouring all his strength, all his control, into her. To avoid drawing attention, she bit into his shoulder, letting out a muffled cry, no longer holding back.

When it was over, Lucy slid down, her body trembling, her breath ragged. She leaned against him, but John pulled away, his eyes cold as he zipped his pants. Lucy felt a vast chasm between them, yet she couldn’t grasp its nature or summon the strength to ignore it. Exhausted, she stumbled to the couch in the corner of the office, her auburn hair spilling over the cushion, and fell asleep, her face still bearing traces of desire tinged with sorrow, as she had hoped John would join her.

John stood by the desk, his gaze falling on the envelope and the tattered notebook Kate had mentioned. He picked up the notebook, his fingers brushing the yellowed pages, and thought of his grandfather — his secrets, the Order of Shadow, Romania. But his thoughts drifted back to Lucy. Why was he so cold to her? Her obsession, her desire for him, once ignited him, but now he felt only detachment. Yet, deep down, a faint echo of feelings lingered — weak but alive.

“Damn it… What am I supposed to do with all this…”

John glanced at Lucy, sleeping a few meters away. He used to do this often — wake up early and watch her softly snoring before stirring. Then she’d wake, stretching like a kitten in the sunlight. She’d kiss him gently, and John thought those moments were the most beautiful in his life.

But then she left… Threw a tantrum, accused him of every sin. Screamed that he was pathetic and weak.
It broke his heart and scarred his soul. And for what? To come back and send such mixed signals… What had changed?

“Lucy, Lucy…” John whispered.

Lucy didn’t respond, sleeping soundly after the fleeting warmth John had shared with her. She only sniffled softly and continued to breathe quietly.

“If you want this so badly…” John gently brushed a lock of hair from her face and turned back to the desk.

“I need to find out everything from her… She’s definitely hiding something. If she truly has feelings, I’ll have to decide… about her and Kate. But if this is some game and she’s tied to my grandfather’s business, I’ll find out tomorrow…”

John banished the last traces of doubt about his plans. One final task remained for today.

He picked up the envelope, his fingers tearing the rough paper. Inside was a single sheet, and the first thing that caught his eye was a word written in neat handwriting: “Greece.”

"Congratulations, John,

You’ve done well with the first country. Varanasi opened the path, but it’s only the beginning. Your next stop is Greece, the sacred Delphi, where Apollo’s voice whispers through the ages. Your task is to know all nine of Apollo’s Muses, daughters of memory, guardians of the secrets of art and truth. Seek their echoes in the temples and shadows. Be cautious — the Order of Shadow is watching.

Act quickly. The truth awaits."