Chapter 3
**The Call of Deception**
Megan walked briskly into her husband's study with a calender in her left hand. Marcus Brynn was busy lighting a cigarette and spotting his wife, he flinched and threw it across the room which made her frown deeply. Her brows arched in fury as it was the umpteenth time he was lying to her about quitting his smoking addiction, now he was doing it again.
'Smokers are—'
'Liable to die young', he took the words right out of her mouth, 'I know Meg,I know that. What are you doing here anyway?'.
Megan didn't like being interrupted but she was going to let it slide, so she brought out the calendar that was tucked under her arm and placed it on his desk. Marcus's eyes were filled with confusion as he saw the red circle marked on a certain date, he raised his head to show his wife her confused he was and she scoffed loudly.
'You really don't remember?'.
'I don't'.
Megan took in a deep breath, sometimes she wonders how she got to marry a dumb man like him, 'You signed a contract last year with the King Marcus. Today is making it a year and it's—'
'It's time', he rose to his feet, 'Oh my God it's time!!'.
He scratched his head, trying to hold his panic together as he didn't know what to do. He thought there was enough time, has a year gone so fast? he wondered as he thought of ways to go about the situation. Liliana was doing her best to avoid coming back home like she has been doing for a long time, there was no way he was going to convince her to come home unless.....
'We need to call her Meg'. He murmured as he walked out of the room with a smile on his face, Megan wondered what he was up to and sighed deeply as she followed him out the door. One could only hope the plan cooked up in his head would work.
***********
She paced back and forth in her hotel room, one could even see the steam of anger radiating from her head as she reminisced the embarrassment she just faced an hour ago, 'Who does he think he is huh?', she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured herself a shot. All she needed was a good dose of liquor to wash the shame she was facing.
Mario walks into the room with a charcuterie board hoping she would love to spend the rest of the evening outside the terrace, with a good bottle of wine and just relax, but no—instead he walks in on his boss making death threats to some man he didn't know about, walking back and forth with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. Three more shots and she was to collapse and probably go into a cardiac arrest.
'I don't get paid enough for this'. He murmured.
Liliana turned around sharply, 'Come again?!'.
'I said I brought you a charcuterie board, courtesy of the hotel with the finest cheese you can have in France'. He refrained like the usual coward he was and Liliana sighed deeply, she knew he was lying but what could she do about it? it's not like she could fire him when he was literally the only support system she had backing her.
'Just take the board there'. She pointed at the terrace and Mario nodded as he carried out her orders. He proceeded to leave after his work was done but she stopped him, offering him a seat since she didn't want to be alone at the moment—she was alone at the restaurant and that turned into a disaster, the least she could do was share a board of fruit and cheese with her assistant to make the night better.
There was silence as they both sat down, watching and appreciating the bustling city of Paris.There was a street band playing a french song which sounded vaguely familiar, she heaved a deep sigh and downed another shot of her whiskey which was starting to make her feel drowsy.
'Do you ever feel lonely Mario?'.
'Huh?'.
'You heard me'.
Mario sniffed as he swatted an annoying fly away from his crackers, 'I do feel lonely sometimes. But I have my family to—'
'Ohh family',She rolled her eyes after interrupting him, 'You're lucky to have a good relationship with your family Mario'.
'They do care about you ma'am. Your relationship would improve if only you call often'. He replied and another depressing sigh escaped her lips. Call— he couldn't understand how hard it was to just pick up the phone and call her parents, there was too much baggage and she was a proud coward. It was better to not call at all than go through pain hearing their voices.
'If only it was that easy....Paris sucks'.
'It's the city of love ma'am'.
'No it's not', she chuckled, 'If Paris is the city of love then I wouldn't have witness the fight at the restaurant and exchanged words with that horrendous man—Gosh you guys are a piece of mess'.
Disapproval of her opinion was written all over Mario's face but he remained silent nonetheless, her phone started to ring and he excused himself as he went inside to take the call. Liliana's hand raked through her hair as she downed another shot of alcohol, one last shot and she was sure to be drunk but she didn't care— all she needed was to forget how much of lonely woman she was, just like the two of the customers gossiped about.
Twenty minutes later and Mario returned, the look on his face proved that all wasn't well as he passed her phone to her, 'Is anything the problem?', she asked.
'You need to pack your bags for Wales ma'am'. He responded and she threw him a death stare.
'Mario we've been through this before and—'.
'I just got off the phone with your mother', he cut her off, 'Your father is dying!'.