Chapitre 336: 15. Paradise City.
My life went smoothly. I had been killing people, sniping, and blowing up pharmaceutical plants for years. Even so, I felt like I was not making any impact. There were always victims that I couldn't save.
Now, it was different. I'd now been on the road with Adam for nearly two months. To begin with, we were in Australia. The sun beat down on us as we stood in the sprawling ranch, surrounded by lush greenery and the scent of earth and animals filling the air.
My noble dream of learning to ride a horse so that the horse doesn't flinch when I'm near was about to come true. Adam had been a real horse whisperer and had finally got the horses to accept me. The soft whinnies of the horses echoed through the stables as I brushed their sleek coats. I knew how to ride a horse.
We had fun with llamas and alpacas; their gentle humming provided a soothing backdrop to our days. Adam took it upon himself to collect the eggs from our hens' nests every morning, the sound of chirping birds accompanying his tasks. We were doing fighting clubs in Australia; the applause and cheers of the crowd filled the air, a testament to our success.
My mortal enemy Sark had gone into hiding after a few plants were outed in the open, and the authorities wanted to question him. I heard that all the reward money for finding me had been withdrawn, a relief that lifted a weight off my shoulders. In between the killing sprees, I was fixing up the ranch and riding.
I walked outside in the morning and watched our two pairs of peacocks cooing, their vibrant feathers shimmering under the golden sunlight, and the males showing off their gorgeous tails. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers.
The weather was perfect, and I admired Adam, who was out collecting eggs. He wore cutoff jean shorts and a black sleeveless shirt; the fabric clinging to his muscular frame. He looked good.
I walked to the stables and gave our six horses their morning feed and water, the sound of their hooves on the ground creating a rhythmic melody. Adam had bought three more horses with me. I stroked the horses, feeling the warmth of their bodies and the softness of their manes under my fingertips, already wondering who I would saddle today.
Then I went to look after the alpacas and llamas, their woolly coats providing a cozy texture as I patted them. Adam had already talked a bit about getting some sheep. Their bleating was expected to add another layer of life to our ranch. But I wanted to do more than just ride, and I told Adam about my dream.
He suggested I go to riding school, so I did. The scent of fresh hay and leather greeted me as I entered the school, and the sound of hooves hitting the ground filled the arena. It was really lovely, and the teachers and everyone complimented me, their encouraging words igniting a fire within me. They said I was a natural.
I learned show jumping, the exhilarating feeling of soaring through the air, dressage, the precise movements creating a harmonious dance between horse and rider, grooming horses even better, and the satisfaction of seeing them gleaming under my care. It was really a perfect life.
Adam was perfect, his love enveloping me like a warm embrace, and for some reason, I didn't even remember the entire party, the whole chasing demons, when everything was perfect. Course after course after course went brilliantly.
The killing spree went smoothly, our teamwork seamless and efficient, and Adam and I became so close that he proposed to me one night while we were in a fancy French restaurant. I said yes, the joy and love filling the surrounding air, creating a moment that would forever be etched in my memory.
Adam said, "What about Damon?"
I said, "Do you see him here? I wonder if Mr. Salvatore is out fucking some busty redhead again." I replied, bored.
Damon's turbulent history with women had already led to one painful divorce. Yet, against all reason, I had foolishly taken him back. The once fiery passion between Damon and me had grown cold while my connection with Adam had blossomed into something extraordinary. Adam embodied perfection in his own way, leaving me yearning for him and slowly forgetting about Damon.
To add to the chaos, an invitation to America had arrived, prompting me to pack my diplomas and promise myself to continue pursuing my passions. As we embarked on the flight, a wave of reckless desire consumed us, and Adam and I indulged in a passionate frenzy throughout the entire plane ride.
In the midst of our passion, Adam's words pierced through the haze: "What if you become pregnant? Imagine having little ones on the way to our wedding—a whole litter of little ones."
These words left me pondering a new possibility: What if Adam was the perfect father? Unlike Salvatore, Adam possessed the qualities of patience, tenderness, and active involvement. I couldn't help but envision a child with Damon. Our features melded together - her father's hair and eyes, my mouth, and her unique nose. She would inherit his confidence and stubbornness, and in that, she would become her mother's daughter.
However, my mind couldn't help but wander to our potential struggles. How would I explain to a child that her father couldn't attend her birthday party because he was off with other women? What if the school called, informing me that Damon had once again neglected to pick up our child? In the midst of these thoughts, arguments about my career, childcare, and the presence of strange women materialized. Would Damon's past traumas resurface? Would he even believe that our children were truly his?
As I lay beside Adam, he tenderly caressed me, providing solace in my swirling thoughts. Happiness washed over me, even as I contemplated the challenges that lay ahead.
Adam's voice broke through the silence, his words a gentle whisper. "What were you thinking?"
I confided in him, sharing all my fears and hopes. Adam's excitement grew as he envisioned our future together, expanding upon the dreams we had begun to weave. How would Damon attempt to impregnate me once again, and how would I navigate the chaos of pregnancy? I would try to do a killing job or sniping with a baby bump. Would Damon try to confine me to the role of a housewife?
In my mind's eye, I couldn't picture myself and Damon strolling with a baby or babies in tow, but somehow, that daydream transformed into one featuring Adam. He would be the embodiment of perfection, my partner, in every sense of the word.
As I spoke to Adam, the words hung in the air, accompanied by a momentary silence. "You would be perfect, Dad. I know that much."
The room felt heavy with anticipation. Adam finally broke the silence, his voice filled with uncertainty. The sound of his voice reverberated, creating an atmosphere of introspection.
He admitted, "I don't know; I never really have been. A good dad, then."
His words carried a hint of regret. I listened as he shared the complexities of his past. How Jessie had been primarily raised by Christy, who constantly complained about the challenges of being married to a werewolf. Christy's influence had turned Jessie against him on more than one occasion. Adam let out a weary sigh, burdened by the weight of his experiences.
In an attempt to console him, I brought up a universal fear that plagues every parent's mind. "Isn't it every parent's nightmare to bury their child?" I questioned.
But Adam's response surprised me.
He revealed, "Maybe it was for Christy, not for me. I've had to bury so many. They are so dear and important."
His words resonated with grief and loss. I understood he was referring to Mercy, his beloved first wife, who had moved on to another plane. Despite her physical absence, Mercy's presence lingered, a constant reminder of the pain Adam carried within him. Seeking to offer comfort, I leaned in and kissed him, hoping to reignite his spirit.
Soon, we found ourselves in Washington D.C., specifically at the Pentagon and Langley, where we were scheduled to meet with the heads of the CIA and FBI. Because of time constraints, we had to settle for a hotel and had only brought essential clothing with us. However, we made sure to dress appropriately for the occasion. As we entered the immense building, its significance, and history seemed to seep into our senses. The walls whispered secrets and decisions made within its corridors, leaving us humbled by its presence.
I was adorned in a white silk shirt, black jacket, and pencil skirt. With each step, my red heels clicked against the floor, adding a touch of confidence to my stride. Adam had carefully chosen the jewelry adorning me, each piece reflecting his affection. My blond hair was pulled back into a businesslike bun, a practical choice for the occasion. On the other hand, Adam wore a black suit with a silver-patterned black tie, which I had personally selected for him. A tie pin, also chosen by me, added a subtle touch of elegance. His expression remained neutral, giving away nothing of his inner thoughts.
As we were ushered towards a large table, we found ourselves surrounded by intelligence and security chiefs. The President and Vice-President were also present, their authority palpable in the room. The conversation that followed was mundane, filled with bureaucratic jargon.
Sensing my lack of interest, I remained mostly silent, allowing Adam, my trusted second-in-command, to take the lead. His experience and expertise made him the ideal spokesperson. The proposition presented to us was clear—they wanted us to spearhead a new task force aimed at dismantling drug companies and eradicating illegal drug trials.
The weight of the responsibility settled upon us, and the gravity of the task at hand became apparent. But amidst the bureaucratic formalities, I couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the setting. The sights, sounds, and even the history emanating from the building reminded me of the immense power and influence that lived within its walls.
At this moment, I realized the significance of our role as The Flea and her second in command. We were here to represent my organization and to make a difference in the world.
We would have the unwavering support of the federal government and the resolute backing of the president and vice president. The air would buzz with anticipation as our own elite task force mobilized to eliminate those who needed to be dealt with. The burden of taking lives wouldn't rest solely on my shoulders.
Moreover, my organization would play a pivotal role, providing an abundance of supplies and resources. Their presence felt like a comforting embrace. Satellites would orbit above, their presence silently reassuring.
The name of the game was clear - even Langley, the heart of intelligence, wanted to align with us, the fleas. They yearned to expose the dark underbelly of corrupt institutions, ensuring the truth reached every individual and igniting a spark of change within decision-makers.
They were talking about changing the Human Act Law so that the supernatural would have some sort of legal rights and safety under the law and would not be considered animals anymore. The president warned us that the process would be slow and that it might take years.
Still, it is now going to be underway, and our new task force would play a pivotal role in exposing those who exploit the supernatural, and it would also give the supernatural their voice back. There would be statements from each of the victims, which would have been saved, as well as everything if those evil facilities had been documented and brought to justice, even in the public eye. The scent of progress hung in the air as the world edged towards an idyllic state. This was the epitome of perfection, a moment where everything aligned flawlessly. Everything was as perfect as it could be, yet I noticed nothing was wrong.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone