The Visitor

Francessa spent the next few days in her room, searching and contacting various renowned security firms and finally after three days she got a satisfactory respone from one of them. she immediately demanded a meeting and scheduled it for today.

her biggest concern was her safety now. Alonso words still rang through her ears and she couldn't stomach the thought of someone else rubbing their butt on Ducate fortune. everything was her dad's and now hers. if what Alfonso said was the truth, Francessa fisted her hands, she wanted to find who had the blood of her parents on their wicked hands.

she had the power, means and influence to sentence an innocent man a life time in prison and it mortified and disgusted her to think the killer of her parents was somewhere living his life when her dad couldn't live past forty-three. he couldn't live to walk his daughter to the altar nor could he experience being a grand father. these were his little, humble wishes he would joke with her about and together they will laugh over it. she missed him so ducking much. she only hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed in the daughter he was so proud of.

someone gingerly knocked on the door to which Francessa mumbled a distracted 'come in'.

"Miss Francessa?" It was Alfonso.

"hmm?" she sounded impatient as if talking was costing her money but Alfonso was a sensible old man. nothing much fazed him anymore and the moods of his master were automatically ignored. much to his generosity.

"you have a visitor." he informed grimly.

Francessa cocked a fine brow at him from the confines of her thick comforter and pillows, she was not at all in the mood to entertain another unwanted guest.

"I trust you can handle them. who is it?"

"he refused to give his name and asked to meet you directly."

"And you let him inside? for god sake Alfonso! what if he's a damned paparazzi?" she grasped incredulously, her eyes wide as she shoved her feet into her slippers.

"That man is nothing like those annoying flies but you need to be careful with him. you should take Fin with you." he insisted, his eyes serious.

Francessa's brows bunched. Fin was one of her bodyguard. maybe Alfonso a as overthinking too much but then again he let an unknown man inside her private estate. he could be anyone.

A chill of dread shot up her spine and her palms turned clammy.

what are the chances that Francessa Ducate gets murdered at her home?

the thought propelled her into action. she didn't want to overthink and create scenarios in head. maybe that was the trait of hers which always landed her in grave trouble but it also saved her time and spared her those feelings curiosity.

quickly changing into comfortable sweats and a black hoodie, she gathered her unkempt hair into a ponytail and headed for the guestroom.

the first thing that greeted her a as a broad back of a man dressed in a well fitting navy blue suit as he gazed at the eight foot tall antique painting of a exotic Greek beauty hanging on the wall. his ear perked up as soon as she stepped inside and he graced her with his full attention. he appeared to be in his early thirti

Francessa couldn't not recall ever meeting this man. No, she didn't know this stranger at all. she wasn't one to forget beautiful things easily and wait...beautiful was an understatement.

his golden blonde hair shone under the light of the massive chandelier hanging above him. with a cut jaw, high cheekbones and dark eyes, he was a equistive man. with his confident stature, he wasn't oblivious to it and seemed to use his charm well when ever the need be...

"nice painting, huh." he remarked. the painting paled in comparison to him but of course she didn't voiced it out.

Francessa didn't approach him and have him a skeptical look. he was continuously smiling at her and the more she looked at him, the more eerie it got.

"who are you?" Francessa demanded in a hard tone. he might be handsome as fuck but his charm wasn't getting to her tonight when she was full of questions with no answers to.

"Ah, let me inteoduce myself. I am Aleksander Scras." he said, that damned smile still their. their was an unmistakable twang of a French accent. a dead giveaway for his origins.

Francessa hesitatingly walked towards Aleksander. on the outside she appeared nonchalant but she was anything but that from the inside. there was something about this man, something dark and terrifying the way he blankly stared at her as if he could see through her or they say there seems to be no real expression in his face just like the painting behind him dead and eerie.

Francessa took a seat farthest form him and it didn't miss his sharp eyes. he just smirked as if the thought amused him. as if he couldn't care less.

"Take a seat." she was polite as she watched his huge frame gracefully fold himself on the plush leather sofa. he placed a thick arm over the backrest and his silver Patek Philippe glinted under the light.

"there must be a purpose for you to grace my place with you presence. so why don't we cut to chase...Mr. Scras?" Francessa smiled. she sounded confident and she was proud of herself for not falling all over the place.

"I must say the rumours didn't do justice to your beauty..." the man has a glib tongue, "but I must admit how bewitching you were battered and bruised." his comment startled her as she blinked at him in baffalement.

"what do you mean?" she rasped, her muscles going rigid.

"I didnt mean to offend you. it's just that I have always found broken things fascinating. but I apologize." yeah, the man was sick and maniac and she never felt more unsafe in her own goddamn home than she did now. her eyes instinctively cut to the door here fun was standing guard and wondered if he would be able to take down this deranged Frenchman.

as if he could read her mind, his snile vanished, relaxing his facial muscles into an uncanny calm and it nerved her.

it soul be the right time to admit that she was more than a little frightened now.

"what do you want?" she finally asked after the longest stare down of her life. she wondered if he was thinking about her broken and bruised beause that dark glint was back in his eyes.

"I dont want anything from you, Francessa." he slightly shook his head and a blond lock fell on his forehead, "I knew Jared Ducate, your father. he was an acquaintance of mine." so her father knew him. but it didnt explain why he came here now. her father has been gone for years...

"I owed him a favour. owed. and I don't like owing dead men." his callous choice of words had her stiffening but he just smirked arrogantly as if he didn't give a damn for her feelings. the Bastard.

"So?" she snapped. her displeasure now evident on her visage. this man thoroughly creeped her out and she wanted the visit to end now.

she watched as Aleksander produced a small black card. from her seat, she couldn't make out what it was. he patted it in the table in front of him and grilled her with a look.

"you will need this. once you use this favour I won't be in debt of Jared anymore." he told and Francessa let out a sarcastic laugh.

"What if I don't accept this favour?" she challenged, her spine straightening and thus time he chuckled. the sound deep yet hallow. the man wasn't amused at all. good. serves him right.

"what you use it or not is up to you, sweetheart. earning my favour...you lose something much greater. but you aren't yet ready for that conversation." he straightened, his smile intact and Francessa realized they never shook hands. she was still taking in his ambiguous words and wondered if her father lost something in exchange for that favour. that made her curious as to who this man was? why would her father who had the power and influence to make anything happen lose something to get his favour? was it's worth that much?

Alfonso was by the door now, and Alexander left with a last lingering glance her way. the man was an enigma and Francessa thought what kind of favour she can drag out of him. was she really thinking of it now?

she picked up the card. it was light and sleek black with numbers etched on it in golden. a thought filtered through her head and she made rushed to get her phone from her bedroom. once there, she quickly dialed the number.

the bell ringed.

once.

twice.

thrice.

and then a deep, masculine voice rebounded in her ear.

"Phantom."