Filthy Little Games

Ch. 3: The Inquisition

QUINTON

The chopper's descent into Meille Resort is smooth, but I can't help but feel rattled with apprehension. A woman weeping whilst you're inside of her cannot be a good sign. It cannot mean that you're the one. But maybe I can be a one. A choice. I can't force her to see what I see. What I feel. What I know we could be together.

Christ, I sound like a desperate sap of a schoolboy.  What has she done to me? What spell has she cast? How unnerving. How utterly miserable in a sense. I steal a glance at Emery as she sits quietly, her gaze fixed on the breathtaking scenery unfolding before us. The majestic mountains rise in the distance, their snow-capped peaks piercing the dimming sky. As the chopper lands, I can't rip my gaze away from her, completely mesmerized by the way her eyes sparkle as she takes in the sights.

The moment we step off the chopper, a crisp mountain breeze greets us, carrying the scent of pine and fresh snow. Emery inhales deeply, her face relaxing into a soft smile. I fight the urge to clasp her hand in mine, knowing she's not fully mine to claim. Not yet. We walk side by side, my body aching to be closer to hers, to comfort her, but I know I need to be patient, and let her make every first move until it becomes her natural reaction.

We approach the main villa, the building stands tall and proud, with large windows offering panoramic views of the surrounding mountains. The architecture is a perfect blend of contemporary design and rustic charm, a warm exterior to prepare us for the cold awaiting us inside.

Emery gasps, grabbing her chest as the grand door swings open and Sophie bursts out, charging toward me at full speed. Oh, they're already here. Lovely.

"Quinny!" she squeals, suffocating me in her surprising vice grip. "Oh, how I've missed you, darling!" She grabs my cheeks with both hands, inspecting my face. "Glad to see you no longer look like a street fighter." She snaps her nosy head in Emery's direction. "Hello there, I'm Sophie Marquis, Quinny's older sister. You are...?"

Emery blinks. "I'm—"

Sophie burst out in a hearty laugh, waving her hand before going in for a hug. "Emery! Yes, I know who you are!" Sophie rocks her side to side, Emery's stunned side-eye forcing me to rein in my own laugh. "I was just joshing with you. I know who you are."

"You do?" Emery draws out, slightly frowning.

I shoot my sister a hardened glare. "Yes, I've informed my family I'd be bringing a guest this year."

"Yes." Sophie feigns a sweet, innocent smile. "A guest." My sister and I exchange a silent battle of 'fuck yous' before she sings, "Well? Shall we head inside?" She glances toward the ground. "No bags?"

Emery fiddles with her fingertips. "It was all last minute... I didn't get a chance to—"

"No worries!" Sophie shoots me a curious side-eye as she latches onto Emery's arm. "We'll remedy your wardrobe situation tomorrow. Let me show you your rooms quickly. Supper is almost ready and we can't keep Daddy waiting, can we? Allez-vous!"

I wince inwardly. Perhaps I should've prepared Emery for Sophie's animated theatrics. The three of us make our way inside the villa, and I can't help but chuckle at Emery's amused yet bewildered expression as my sister talks her ear off about this year's holiday itinerary.

Sophie leads us to the guest suites, which are no less extravagant than the grand foyer. She opens the door to Emery's room, revealing a spacious and tastefully decorated space. "Here you go, darling," she says with a warm smile. "I hope you'll find it to your liking."

Emery nods, still processing my sister's overly cheery disposition. "Thank you," she manages to say, gaze darting to the double doors at the back of her room. "Those are?"