Power and obsession

Chapter 1: Meeting

Hope

The twilight fell slowly on the city. The sky, still tinged with the bright orange of the setting sun, gave way to a calm and silent night. At that time, the Esperance district bookstore was almost empty. Only a few regulars still dragged between the shelves, leafing through books without specific goal, but most had already left, taking with them the last hours of the day.

I was standing behind the counter, methodically storing a few books left in disorder. I was a woman of routine, quiet, serene. The light noise of the shot pages, the smell of worn books, all of this was my universe. I lived in a world where simplicity reigned, far from the tumult of the city, far from the secrets that bubbed in the shadows. I did not really know the dangers of the outside world, nor the violence that ganged him.

I looked up when I heard the bell above the Tinter door. A man had just entered. It was great, of an undeniable presence, and seemed straight out of another universe, much darker and more complex than that of the bookstore. He wore an impeccable black suit, and his eyes, with an icy blue, seemed to be engaged in them. I noted in a flash the way he observed the room, as if he was looking for something, but I couldn't know what. He didn't seem to want a particular book, but rather something more intangible, something invisible.

His steps resonated on the prosecution as he advanced in the central aisle. I freezed myself for a moment, a strange feeling in my stomach. I remembered when, although evening had fallen, I had not yet met this man before. But at the same time, it seemed terribly familiar to me. It was perhaps an illusion, a fleeting impression.

He stopped near the counter, and without a word, he looked at me. His eyes scrute my face, but in a strange way, as if he wanted to read in my soul. I felt destabilized, slightly looked down and forced me to smile politely.

-"Good evening, sir. Can I help you?" I asked, trying to show my usual kindness, despite the growing embarrassment I felt.

The man did not answer right away. He stayed there, fixing me. A long silence settled between us, almost palpable, heavy with unsaid. I was waiting, but I didn't really know what to wait. It was different, not like the usual customers. He had an aura of mystery, a presence that seemed to invade all the space, as if the time itself slowed down in its presence.

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice resonating in the silence of the bookstore.

- "I was looking for something ... rare."

The words were simple, but in one way or another, they resonated in me as an implicit promise. I haired an eyebrow, slightly intrigued, but still on my guards. It was just a client. A somewhat special customer, of course, but I used to be a little bizarre customers. With a calm gesture, I took a notebook and a pen.

-"What are you looking for exactly?" I asked, my professional tone hiding the curiosity that gnawed at me.

He looked at me for a moment, as if he weighed his words, before answering, a slight smile touching his lips.

- "YOU."

The shock was immediate. A heat invaded my face, and a discreet shiver crossed my spine. I didn't know how to react. This kind of statement was not one of the conversations I used to hold behind this counter. But there was no assault in his voice or threat. On the contrary, he almost seemed ... calm, detached, as if it went without saying.

A silence fell on the bookstore. I suddenly felt vulnerable, exposed, and my hands began to tremble slightly. I tried to resume capacity, but the situation became more and more strange.

- "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

He got closer to the counter, his gaze now riveted on me. His eyes were hard, but there was something indefinable in the intensity of his gaze. As if this meeting was anything but a coincidence.

- "I will observe you, hope. No matter where you are, no matter what you are doing. You will soon understand why."

I stepped back, my heart beating stronger in my chest. Why did he say my name? How did he know? Anxiety and confusion invaded me, but I could not take my eyes off this man who, by his simple look, seemed to have put all my tranquility in pieces.

I was looking for words, but they fled me. My lips surrounded without anything coming out. He seemed to know everything I felt without me needing to speak. It scared me.

-"I ... I don't understand what you mean," I finally stammered, my mind turning in circles.

The man sketched an imperceptible smile, as if it was part of a game of which he was the only master. Without one more word, he turned his heels and walked away, his silhouette standing out in the subdued light of the bookstore. Just before crossing the door, he turned one last time and threw me, in a low and almost whispered voice:

- "See you soon, Hope."

And without adding a word, he disappeared in the street.

I stayed there, motionless, my hands always trembling. I felt empty, lost, as if an invisible veil had hit me. How could a man cause such a reaction in me after only a few minutes? Why his name, why this strange feeling of being observed, even after he left?

I shook my head, trying to recover, but part of me already knew that this meeting was going to mark a turning point in my life. A turning point that I would never have imagined, a turning point that was going to lead me on a path that I was not ready to take.

Brett, the mysterious man, had just entered my life. And, in a strange and disturbing way, he did not seem to want to get out.