Weary from the day's episode, Daniela found her sofa a welcome reprieve. She hadn't realized she'd dozed off, the television watching her. The day was winding down as a loud thump and the subsequent barking from the neighbor's canine stirred her. Startled, she jumped up from the sofa pulse racing and canvassed the room, then checked her mobile phone. Nothing from Lyle.
She hadn't eaten all day, so headed toward the kitchen. A shadow through the patio curtain caught her eye. Backing away, she bumped into the island.
"What the hell!" she gasped, staring in numbed horror as the patio door knob turned slowly. She flinched as the shadowy figure burst through the door.
The next instance, shards of glass landed on the floor, a few aiming toward her. Too overwhelmed with fright to move, she froze. Why Lyle refused to have installed a safety alarm. And why is he acting like a madman, her heart racing upon recognizing his black long coat and oddly-shaped black hat.
She reached for the telephone. No time. Next, she searched frantically for any kitchen tool to use as immediate defense, she found non visible. Recovering, she turned and fled toward the living room.
She cried out in panic while fumbling with the front door lock. The next instance, Daniela found herself outside running without looking back across her front lawn toward her neighbor's driveway. She banged on the door until an older gentleman in his late sixties, cracked opened the door cautiously.
"Please help me. I'm afraid for my life. Someone is trying to kill me," she screamed.
The man on the other side of the door didn't hesitate. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her inside, bolting the door. Daniela calmed down enough to recall his small round spectacled face under thinning white hair, but not his name. A look of surprise crossed his face as he tilted his head.
"I need your help," Daniela blurted. "Someone broke into my house just now. He's chasing me. He's gonna kill me. I'm afraid it may be..." Her incoherent voice trailed off for a long second before turning her face away, concluding in a cracked voice..."my husband."
Walter Monroe moved the curtain back and peeked out the window. "There's no one following you, miss.
Walter tilted his head quizzically. His wife suffered from the same condition, so he understood Daniela's distress. He nodded, smiled and stepped outside.
Calming her wouldn't be easy. He recalled his conversation with her husband earlier in the week. "My wife just returned from resting at a facility. She's a bit fragile right now. If you could keep an eye on her, I'd appreciate it." Lyle's sympathetic expression and downward glance as he spoke of his ill wife prompted Walter to pat him on the shoulder.
"I understand. I'll keep an eye on her," he reassured Lyle. So young a couple to have such problems. A heavy burden indeed, Walter thought as he shook Lyle's hand and retreated to his own home to tend to his own wife.
Escorting her back to the safety of her home took more time than he'd anticipated. But he wouldn't leave her to wander the neighborhood. Not in her condition. Carefully tucking his arm under hers, he urged her back slowly to her front door.
"Now see, miss, there's nothing to worry about. No one is here to harm you." He stopped, gave a quick jerk of his head, peering intently behind her to the right side of her lawn. A sudden chill racked his body that gave him pause to reconsider his statement, but kept quiet.
Immediately, Daniela stopped and jerked a sharp breath as the wind picked up and blew past her. For just an instant, she caught a whiff of Lyle's overbearing Dior Homme Parfum. She shuddered, shaking her head violently, then tugged at Walter's arm in retreat. He struggled to keep moving forward.
"He's here I tell you. I can smell him." Daniela began, her body joined her voice in trembling. Walter closed his arms around her and whispered in her ear. His words helped a bit. Dealing with his wife for ten years now, he knew the signs. "Miss, your husband is out of town. I'll come inside with you and take a look around if that pleases you."
"Yes, yes, please. I'd appreciate it," half listening due to spirals of self-doubt poking fun at her. Don't be stupid. You're losing it when you need to be on top of your game.
Confident no one was there, Walter entered Daniela's home, but insisted she remain outside. It didn't take long. What he discovered disturbed him. Returning, he frowned. "There's been someone in your home. The patio door pane is broken. Perhaps an attempted burglary. We must inform the police."
"Definitely not again," Daniela lamented. "I'd rather not deal with him twice in one day."*
"But you can't allow this vicious entry into your home to go unreported." Walter looked quizzically in her direction. There must be more to this than she's telling, he assumed.
"I'll deal with it later," she promised.
"Well, don't let it go too long. The authorities will question your motive." He paused before leaving, "just some neighborly advice."
Half an hour later, Daniela realized the wisdom in his words and phoned the police. She didn't understand the hour wait for their arrival. She sighed in relief knowing she wouldn't be scrutinized as different officers responded to her call. Once the report was given, she locked the door.
She pushed her hair back from her forehead and exhaled. But a worried look crossed her face. Her body went limp, but she held onto the edge of the island from weariness. She twirled a few times, wondering where to begin cleaning the intruder's mess.
While sweeping, a cold sweat enveloped her as she paused and thought for a moment, I've no means to protect myself. Lyle wouldn't allow any weapons. Finished discarding the broken glass, her thoughts turned to the interrogation. I have to discover what's the secret in the attic.
She studied the third floor. Nothing much to examine but a few boxes left from the raid. Moments later, her garage door clanked as the automatic opener wheels churned. "Lyle, she whispered, and immediately ran to the attic window.
What she saw through the dusk hour was her husband rushing toward a car parked near her curb, jump in, and speed away. Instantly, she pressed her hands to her temples. Thought gremlins scrambled through her mind laughing as "Lyle hissed, I've been here the entire time, you imbecile."
Stumbling toward the door, she tripped over a large box that wouldn't move and fell head first on the attic floor, lying there unconscious.
Now Part 6:
"Not that it matters to me, but where have you been?"
Olivia shot a cutting stare at Lyle. She turned and walked away to avoid his question.
"It better not have been my home. You're gonna ruin everything," he hissed twirling around on the bar stool with a cocktail in his hand to face her.
She smirked. "I'd like to have seen the scare on her face after she saw you running from the garage. I even spread a personal touch of your favorite fragrance."
"What the hell!" Lyle scolded, then jumped up from the couch and rushed over to her, grabbed her neck, snapping it back, and stared into her beautiful jade eyes for a long moment.
With his hands still pressed against her neck, he paused and thought for a moment. "It may work. I picked a nice one this time. She's beyond fragile. I see the tipping point sooner than expected. The fragrance has never been my favorite; however, potent enough to confuse even the most sophisticated mind. But don't do that again! I'm warning you!"
It took several moments before he released his grip and returned to their bar area.
Surveying their condo's spacious, elegantly furnished living room helped ease his worry. He smiled broadly. Purchased a year ago in one of his alias' identity, he'd paid for the property with Daniela's career, carefully draining her assets monthly. All she wanted to be was a quiet, married life. A bargain he believed he could accommodate.
It was by accident they met.
The downtown bar scene on that Saturday night starred typical males ferreting out companionship. It didn't matter the joint. Lyle wasn't particularly searching for a replacement, but it was Daniela's look of desperation as she sat in The Hunt Club staring at the cocktail glass that intrigued him before she looked away at a minor disturbance behind her.
Disrupting a would-be unethical move by a male patron sitting next to her gained him access to her world.
"Excuse me, miss, but I wouldn't drink that after the gentleman's hand to your right hovered over it a few seconds too long."
Bewildered, Daniela turned and tossed the cocktail's contents in the man's face before walking off with Lyle to a quieter setting where they could talk. He was in.
What gave him concern though was her father. From their first meeting, he sensed a hesitancy. It became clear in no time it was prudent to plan his exist before Daniela suspected or checked her financial situation.
A glimpse of Olivia enticing him to divert his attentions elsewhere aroused him. She knew him best. Elevator eyes activated, without a word, he rushed over, took her in his arms, and planted a deep kiss on her lips. She responded, then grabbed his hand and led him toward the stairs.
Before they reached the first step, the phone rang.
"Three shipments arrived last night. Need directions on inland distribution. Be here in two hours," a voice on the other end ordered.
Damn, Lyle thought, then turned to do a once-over again before glancing at his watch. Damn. Damn. He seethed before slamming the door behind him.
"Word has it you've been tagged," the short man wearing dark glasses uttered as he stepped from behind the dark alley directly in front of Lyle's face.
"It's my and the boss' business. Now move out of my way!" Lyle hissed, placing his hand near his underarm. The man's eyes followed Lyle's hand. He frowned, then backed away.
A bit startled at the news, but attempting to disguise it, Lyle pushed the man even farther away and continued down the dark alley, around, the corner, and left toward a line of rail cars. He stopped, waiting for the man to catch up.
Damn. Word's reached the boss, he internalized but kept pace behind the second in command leading the way to the section of warehouses assigned to their operations.
The night sky was aflame with bright city lights behind the dark and vacant dock. Lyle's first thought was of the night life he enjoyed. For a long moment he stood basking in the knowledge that beyond those walls of the warehouses, numerous entertainment business enjoyed the benefits of his less-than illegal, yet highly profitable ventures.
Lyle pulled out his mask and gloves before entering the closest warehouse. Smoke and chemicals rushed to greet him. His pulse raced as he surveyed the numerous activities, divided into categories. No area of the concrete floor was left vacant. Organized chaos with many livelihoods dependent upon the activities they're assigned to.
Did many abhor their duties? If so, Lyle couldn't tell. Their heads down, they resembled worker bees following the lead of their master. No matter what.
Uneasiness quivered in his gut. The last job. Tolerable was non-human trafficking. Weaponry and satisfying the unusual, high end palates and thirst for unattainable souvenirs of wealth knew no bounds.
Instantly, his thoughts turned to Daniela. For all her talent, innocent in a quirky sort of way.
A hand waiving in the air caught Lyle's attention. He nodded, then proceeded toward the man known only as "The Boss". Across the warehouse he tread briskly, but carefully. No greeting, just turned his back. Through a back door they exited, then across the rail yard behind another set of buildings until they reached the edge of the ship channel.
"The nature of our business can't afford liabilities. Have you fallen into that category?" The Boss questioned in a husky voice.
"Not in the least. Any talk will be silenced immediately. You have my word," Lyle assured, then continued. "Now, I have five clients ready to accept the new shipments."
The Boss half nodded. Not completely satisfied, but he'd no other liaison as skilled as Lyle in quickly identifying local and international buyers.
"One other thing. Buyers aren't gonna pay hefty prices for infected companions. Have them certified by the end of the week."
Having concluded, the men returned to the warehouse.
Another week passed before he left his condo to return home.
Not the norm by any means, he calculated. Once my affection is reinforced, I'll explain my business. He grimaced, unsure yet which liaison version he'd impart. Reddingham or an lesser, unassuming venture. Of importance was discovering what Daniela shared with police.
Beyond pissed, she'll be; but tore up inside missing me, he counted on.
He grinned. And she'll never betray me. Of that I'm certain.
For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the 
5 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2973: has no heart;
4 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2972: reinforced;
3 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2971: can’t overlook that;
1 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2969: what an appearance!;
22 December 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2959: the last date; and
21 December 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2958: the secret in the attic
Por el bien del matrimonio, no se puede pasar por alto eso.
Parte 6:
«No es que me importe, pero ¿dónde has estado?».
Olivia lanzó una mirada fulminante a Lyle. Se dio la vuelta y se alejó para evitar su pregunta.
«Más vale que no haya sido en mi casa. Lo vas a arruinar todo», siseó girándose en el taburete del bar con un cóctel en la mano para mirarla.
Ella sonrió con aire burlón. «Me hubiera gustado ver el susto en su cara cuando te vio salir corriendo del garaje. Incluso le eché un toque personal de tu fragancia favorita».
«¡Qué demonios!», gritó Lyle, y luego saltó del sofá y corrió hacia ella, la agarró por el cuello, echándole la cabeza hacia atrás, y la miró fijamente a sus hermosos ojos color jade durante un largo momento.
Con las manos aún presionadas contra su cuello, se detuvo y pensó por un momento. «Puede que funcione. Esta vez elegí una buena. Ella es más que frágil. Veo el punto de inflexión antes de lo esperado. La fragancia nunca ha sido mi favorita; sin embargo, es lo suficientemente potente como para confundir incluso a la mente más sofisticada. ¡Pero no vuelvas a hacer eso! ¡Te lo advierto!».
Tardó varios momentos en soltar su agarre y regresar a la zona del bar.
Contemplar el espacioso y elegante salón de su apartamento le ayudó a calmar su preocupación. Sonrió ampliamente. Lo había comprado hacía un año con una de sus identidades falsas y había pagado la propiedad con la carrera de Daniela, vaciando cuidadosamente sus activos cada mes. Ella solo quería una vida tranquila y casada. Un trato que él creía poder cumplir.
Se conocieron por casualidad.
La escena en los bares del centro de la ciudad ese sábado por la noche estaba protagonizada por los típicos hombres en busca de compañía. Lyle no estaba buscando específicamente un sustituto, pero fue su mirada de desesperación mientras observaba la copa de cóctel lo que le intrigó antes de apartar la vista hacia un pequeño alboroto detrás de ella.
Al interrumpir una posible acción poco ética por parte de un cliente sentado a su lado, consiguió acceder a su mundo.
«Disculpe, señorita, pero yo no bebería eso después de que el caballero a su derecha haya mantenido la mano sobre la copa unos segundos más de lo debido».
Desconcertada, Daniela se giró y le tiró el contenido del cóctel a la cara al hombre antes de marcharse con Lyle a un lugar más tranquilo donde pudieran hablar. Él estaba dentro.
Sin embargo, lo que le preocupaba era su padre. Desde su primer encuentro, percibió cierta vacilación. En poco tiempo quedó claro que era prudente planear su salida antes de que Daniela sospechara o comprobara su situación financiera.
Una mirada de Olivia tentándolo a desviar su atención hacia otra parte lo excitó. Ella lo conocía mejor que nadie. Activó su mirada seductora, sin decir una palabra, se apresuró a acercarse, la tomó en sus brazos y le dio un profundo beso en los labios. Ella respondió, luego le tomó la mano y lo llevó hacia las escaleras.
Antes de llegar al primer escalón, sonó el teléfono.
«Anoche llegaron tres envíos. Necesito instrucciones para la distribución interior. Esté aquí en dos horas», ordenó una voz al otro lado del teléfono.
Maldición, pensó Lyle, y se volvió para echar otro vistazo antes de mirar su reloj. Maldición. Maldición. Hierve de rabia antes de cerrar la puerta de un portazo.
«Se rumorea que te han marcado», dijo el hombre bajito con gafas oscuras al salir de detrás del callejón oscuro justo delante de Lyle.
«Es asunto mío y del jefe. ¡Ahora apártate de mi camino!», siseó Lyle, colocando la mano cerca de la axila. Los ojos del hombre siguieron la mano de Lyle. Frunció el ceño y luego retrocedió.
Un poco sorprendido por la noticia, pero intentando disimularlo, Lyle empujó al hombre aún más lejos y continuó por el oscuro callejón, dobló la esquina y se dirigió hacia una fila de vagones. Se detuvo, esperando a que el hombre lo alcanzara.
Maldición. La noticia ha llegado al jefe, pensó para sus adentros, pero siguió el ritmo del segundo al mando, que lo guiaba hacia la sección de almacenes asignada a sus operaciones.
El cielo nocturno estaba iluminado por las brillantes luces de la ciudad detrás del muelle oscuro y vacío. Lo primero en lo que pensó Lyle fue en la vida nocturna que disfrutaba. Durante un largo momento se quedó contemplando el hecho de que, más allá de las paredes de los almacenes, numerosos negocios de entretenimiento disfrutaban de los beneficios de sus empresas, que no eran ilegales, pero sí muy rentables.
Lyle se puso la máscara y los guantes antes de entrar en el almacén más cercano. El humo y los productos químicos se apresuraron a darle la bienvenida. Su pulso se aceleró mientras observaba las numerosas actividades, divididas en categorías. No quedaba ningún espacio libre en el suelo de hormigón. Un caos organizado en el que muchos medios de vida dependían de las actividades que se les asignaban.
¿Muchos aborrecían sus obligaciones? Si era así, Lyle no podía saberlo. Con la cabeza gacha, parecían abejas obreras siguiendo las órdenes de su amo. Sin importar nada más.
Una inquietud le recorrió las entrañas. El último trabajo. Lo tolerable era el tráfico de personas. Las armas y la satisfacción de los paladares inusuales y exigentes, y la sed de recuerdos inalcanzables de riqueza no conocían límites.
Al instante, sus pensamientos se dirigieron a Daniela. A pesar de todo su talento, era inocente de una manera peculiar.
Una mano que se agitaba en el aire llamó la atención de Lyle. Asintió con la cabeza y se dirigió hacia el hombre conocido solo como «El Jefe». Cruzó el almacén con paso rápido, pero cuidadoso. No saludó, solo le dio la espalda. Salieron por una puerta trasera y cruzaron la vía férrea detrás de otro conjunto de edificios hasta llegar al borde del canal marítimo.
«La naturaleza de nuestro negocio no puede permitirse responsabilidades. ¿Has caído en esa categoría?», preguntó El Jefe con voz ronca.
«En absoluto. Cualquier rumor se silenciará inmediatamente. Tienes mi palabra», aseguró Lyle, y continuó: «Ahora tengo cinco clientes dispuestos a aceptar los nuevos envíos».
El jefe asintió a medias. No estaba completamente satisfecho, pero no tenía ningún otro contacto tan hábil como Lyle para identificar rápidamente a compradores locales e internacionales.
«Una cosa más. Los compradores no van a pagar precios elevados por compañeros infectados. Haz que los certifiquen antes de que termine la semana».
Una vez concluida la conversación, los hombres regresaron al almacén.
Pasó otra semana antes de que saliera de su apartamento para regresar a casa.
No era lo habitual, calculó. Una vez que mi afecto se haya reforzado, le explicaré mis asuntos. Hizo una mueca, sin saber aún qué versión de la relación le contaría. La de Reddingham o una aventura menor y más discreta. Lo importante era descubrir qué había compartido Daniela con la policía.
Estará más que enfadada, pero destrozada por dentro y echándome de menos, pensó.
Sonrió. Y nunca me traicionará. De eso estoy seguro.
Para mi tema, me inspiré y utilicé la publicación de
5 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2973: has no heart;
4 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2972: reinforced;
3 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2971: can’t overlook that;
1 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2969: what an appearance!;
22 December 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2959: the last date; y
21 December 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2958: the secret in the attic
Good luck everyone with whatever your endeavors.
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English is my native language.
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.
El inglés es mi lengua materna.
Si se incluye traducción, utilizo DeepL para ayudar a mis lectores.
Gracias por su paciencia y comprensión.