CHAPTER EIGHTEEN; Backstory.

Laurent allowed himself a last look at the outline of Rose's prone body on the bed as he put on the second leg of his socks. He'd meant what he said. He really was sorry. It wasn't her fault that her father had dug his own grave, but she'd still bear part of the consequences. Fully dressed, he walked to the door and came to an abrupt stop. When all was said and done, this would probably be the last time he'd have the opportunity to face this version of Rose Blackwell. He stared back in regret. It has really been fun knowing her. 

He stepped out of the room. 'Bye, my Rose', he whispered to himself. 

The hotel was a little busier now than in the afternoon. Music blared from the direction of a room, and the night light illuminated figures tangled together outside. If he was lodging in a hotel with someone for the night, he'd like to think they'd both be cocooned inside their room by 12:30 am but apparently not. The parking lot was also busier and there were a lot more vehicles parked. Getting into his own car, he drove the short 5 minute distance back to the hospital. 

Not wanting to attract attention, he steadily walked from the parking lot all the way to Blackwell's room. He wasn't stopped but he only exhaled fully when he'd closed the door behind him. He walked quietly to the chart at the foot of the bed and was pleased to see an update from 50 minutes ago. If he was calculating correctly, it meant he had roughly about 3 hours in the worst case scenario before the next nurse came. He engaged the lock behind him.

The room light had been dimmed, but he could still see the man clearly on the bed. His chest rose and fell steadily to the beep of the machine placed beside him. He'd done some research before he came, so the first thing he did was turn off the machine that was broadcasting the patient's heart rate for all to see. He didn't want the nurses rushing in before he was done. The man shifted a bit in his sleep but he slept on. There was also no tell-tale sign of a nurse coming in to find out, so he knew he was safe. For now.

Next, he set up his laptop on the table facing the bed and connected the flash. Then he arranged every evidence of indiscretion he'd been able to uncover in another page. That set up, he placed his phone to call a popular social media influencer he'd had the pleasure of working with once and a pen on the table. He smiled, already smelling success because there was no way anything could go wrong. 

He walked closer to the bed and moved the chair closer. Then he sat down, crossed his legs and tapped the man gently. On his third attempt, his eyes finally opened with a little bit of clarity. He stared blearily from the bed before his eyes roamed round the room. When he didn't see Rose - most likely, his eyes finally cleared. Laurent crossed his arms as he watched the old man try to sit and pull off his mask simultaneously.

When he had exhausted himself with zero success, Laurent finally stood in his line of sight.

"The bed or the mask?" he asked softly.

Most likely thinking his only beloved daughter was in danger, he gestured impatiently to the mask. Laurent pulled it down to his chin.

"Rose, where's my daughter?" the man rasped as soon as the mask was off his face.

His hand still on the mask, Laurent pretended to consider it and look round the room. "Rose? She's not here. I left her sleeping in her hotel room"

The man breathed a sigh of relief, shutting his eyelids before they snapped open again with confusion, "What… What's going on?" the man finally asked, trying to raise himself up on the bed, "What's the time?"

Laurent only shrugged as he watched him struggle without success.

"Help an old man up, would you?" the man said softly, watching his face.

He uncrossed his arms and approached the head of the bed before he stopped, his arms less than a foot from the man's back, "And why would I do that?"

The man's brows furrowed as he stared at him, "I don't understand. Laurent?"

He shifted back, "You see, I asked you a question. The bed or the mask? You chose one and that's the extent of my generosity"

The man glanced around the room. His eyes filled with a mixture of questions and caution as he considered the set-up on the table.

"Mr. Ricco, what do you think you're doing? What's going on here?" his voice shook.

Laurent smiled widely with his eyes cold. When the man flinched, he backed off, moving the chair again to his side and sitting up.

"Why don't I ask the questions for now, Mr. Blackwell?"

"You bastard. If you've harmed a hair on my daughter's head, I will …"

"You'll do what. No offense, but you can barely drag yourself to a sitting position or reach for the bed lever, what do you think you can do for Rose in your condition" he sneered at him, "Now, as I was saying, why don't I ask the questions, Sir. You won't mind terribly, right?"

The man's eyes were filled with fear now. He didn't know what exactly was happening, but the threat on Rose was a delicious topping. If the machine was still on, he had no doubt that he'd be seeing evidence of the man's heart racing.

The man nodded, and he smiled in approval. 

"Good idea. Now I'm going to start with a story. No interruptions, please" he cocked his head and the man nodded again, even though his jaws were clenched.

"Oh, and by the way, you shouldn't try to scream, Okay? You have no idea of what you will see on that screen, capisce?"

The man nodded again. Good.

"My story, huh. Do pay attention, I'd hate to repeat myself" He took a deep breath as he forced himself to remember.

"Once upon a time, there was a whore" he smiled at his confused look, "Well, this whore didn't exactly get paid with money, she was rather content with the company of a man. One day, this whore met a man in a strip bar…" his lips twitched in a smile again, though this one was a little more genuine, "You'll forgive the lack of details, I'm not really a fan of stories"

The man's eyes remained on his and he nodded, "Let's not get carried away. The man looked like someone that was rich and lonely, and that was part of what caught her attention. She approached the man, bought him a couple of drinks and played listening ear to his sob story where he mentioned how he'd lost his wife, blah, blah, blah…"

The man shifted on the bed, his eyes widening in horror. So he could tell where this was going. "At the end of that night, the both of them walked out together, stole some kisses under the moonlight and ended their tryst in a hotel room." he chuckled, "I don't really like to think of what happened next, given the fact that that whore happened to be my mother"

"You're lying. That happened just over 10 years ago. You're too old to be the result of that night"

He laughed out loud at that. "Oh, did I mention that I was the result, that's ridiculous. Of course I wasn't, I was home alone that night"

"Then, what the fuck is the meaning of this"

He got in his face, "I've been too nice, right?" he threatened. "Because I clearly remember an agreement where it was decided that I ask the questions"

The man's mouth clamped shut, but his eyes were bitter.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. "About seven years after that night, the whore who hadn't cleaned up her ways approached this man in his office with her young son, claiming something about how she needed money for their child's health" He leaned closer to the man, "Do you know what the man did?" 

He recoiled, so Laurent stood back up. He clearly remembered that day, his eyes were brimming with fear already. "Of course you do. You're the man in this story, aren't you. This man kicked both of them out and called security on them, screaming something about thieves trying to take his legacy for themselves" 

He took another deep breath and continued softly, "Apparently, this young boy misunderstood because the following day, he made his way back there, this time with pictures of proof. He assumed the man knew that his mother would use the money for other reasons, and gratefully thanked the man for his wisdom"

He shook his head with a harsh laugh and a dramatic wave of his hand, "And the rest is history"