DARK FAÏZ Book 3: Dawn never keeps its promises

by Sandra L. Kiss

  DARK FAÏZ

  BOOK 3

  Translated from French by Sarahas2

  SANDRA L.KISS

  The first edition of this novel was published under the title: Dark Faïz, l'aube ne tient jamais ses promesses.

  Copyright © 2020 by Sandra L.Kiss

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a fiction. Any reference to historical events, characters or real places would be used fictitiously. The other names, characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to living or existing characters would be entirely coincidental.

  To my mother, thank you for always being there for me.

  Table des matières

  PROLOGUE

  1

  FAÏZ

  2

  FAÏZ

  3

  FAÏZ

  4

  5-FAÏZ

  6

  FAÏZ

  7

  FAÏZ

  8

  FAÏZ

  9

  FAÏZ

  10-RAY

  11

  FAÏZ

  12

  FAÏZ

  13-RAY

  FAÏZ

  14

  FAÏZ

  15

  FAÏZ

  16

  17

  FAÏZ

  EPILOG

  ACKNOWLEDGMENT

  PROLOGUE

  As dawn was breaking, a peaceful silence surrounded the whole house. Georgia, standing in front of the library in the immense living room, barely dared to breathe in fear of waking her mother. The little girl was staring at the big padlocked white box at the top of the piece of furniture, nervously leaning on one foot and the other. The idea of climbing this bunch of books to catch the box was working its way more and more into her mind. She turned her gaze towards her mother asleep on the sofa, and sadness immediately filled her eyes with intense darkness. Georgia suspected that her mother had been crying most of the night. After all, since her father's death, nothing had been the same. Her mother no longer laughed at the subtle things in life. Her emerald green eyes no longer shone, except when sadness came to visit her. The little girl pinched her lip in sadness.

  At the age of four, she felt as if she had an enormous weight on her shoulders. She had to be a source of comfort to her mother, keep smiling, and above all, never make waves. She hoped to make her mother happy again. Maybe if she always behaved, her mother would laugh again one day, and really laugh. It was a sound she couldn't remember. A happy mom, what was it like? She scanned the walls of the room with her eyes. Pictures were hanging. Pictures that Georgia didn't like because it was never the old mom who was posing with her on them. The old mom was in that white box at the top of the bookcase along with her dad, but no one was allowed to open it. No pictures of him were allowed in the house. The sight of him was too much for adults to bear, she was told.

  However, her mother had left her only one, a photo, which she was allowed to keep and which the little girl was very careful to leave always turned over on her dresser, next to her bed when she didn't look at it. That was the rule. Her mother wasn't supposed to find it and see the man she had once loved. That one picture was getting more and more damaged, yellowed by time. The smiles frozen on the faces were real. A happy memory of the end of a day spent at the beach. A once ordinary day with a happy mother.

  1

  It was another crazy rush this morning to drop Georgia off at school. I'd spent most of the night thinking about the dark thoughts that had kept me awake for so long. The ringing of my alarm clock was no longer enough. Luckily, my daughter was there to get me out of my suffocating nightmares and gently bring me back to the reality of our daily lives.

  "If you continue like this, you're going to make a hole in that unfortunate punching bag," Jul told me.

  He held the huge bag firmly with difficulty. His red bangs fell on his face already covered with sweat. I pivoted on my feet to give the last kick to the bag which, fortunately, withstood the most difficult shocks.

  "Your turn!" I said before throwing my gloves on the bench and grabbing my water bottle.

  "No, I'm done here, Zoe. What did you eat this morning? A horse?"

  "You're wrong, you have to say a lion," I took another sip of fresh water.

  "Admit that I wasn't that far," he grabbed his towel and wiped his face with it.

  "Yes, not far this time.”

  Jul's thin face, with his many freckles, was a perfect match for his build. Indeed, he was neither too thin nor too muscular. This faithful colleague had been with me practically everywhere since William's death.

  "Zoe? Is everything all right?" he was suddenly worried.

  I shook my head to chase away the dark thoughts lurking in the corner of my head, "Yes, I was thinking about tomorrow's performance with the association," I lied while I was packing my bag.

  At the beginning of the day, the gym was still quiet. The lights in this warehouse where gymnasts and athletes came to train, were on all day because of its low exposure to natural light. Every sound and every word resonated within the walls. In the evening, it was almost impossible to hear and talk to each other because the place was so crowded.

  I grabbed my backpack and started heading to the locker room, "Nine o'clock, right? I'll be there. I wouldn't miss the opening of that hip-hop festival you're the president of."

  "You'd better! Or I'll boycott your next article coming out next week," Jul burst out laughing before saying, "I'll see you at work. I have to make a detour to cover the Venice marathon event."

  The view was beautiful, right on top of the Los Angeles Times building. The premises overlooked the city, but today I looked at it differently. It had been two years since he disappeared from my life and my daughter's life. The colors of the flashing lights had first surprised me when I opened the front door. Barthey stood in front of me with a face decomposed by pain. I understood immediately. Barthey, who had been dismissed since our return from Eros, had no reason to be here so late at night, with a team of law enforcement officers behind him.

  "Zoe, you're gonna have to be strong," he whispered to me before he left, "think about Georgia."

  His words hung in the air, while I collapsed to the ground in sorrow.

  I heard a whisper, "Don't drown in those memories, come back!" It was like I heard William deep down inside.

  The sound of a newspaper thrown on my desk brought me back.

  "The golden boy's back home!" Cait said in a strong Russian accent.

  I took care to put my mask back on so that she wouldn't read deep into my eyes before I turned around.

  "Hello, Cait. So, what fantastic Front Page did you get me this morning?" I said as I took the newspaper in my hands.

  Her sparkling eyes announced a crisp gossip. My breath was taken away when I saw the headline on the front page.

  "I warned you!" exclaimed Cait who was standing by the front door, "I made the same face when I found out this morning. Faïz Mattew is back in L.A."

  "Yes, I... I've known since last night," I stammered in a low voice and couldn't take my eyes off the newspaper.

  "But why didn't you say so earlier? Miss Reyes, it was time to get the news out exclusively!"

  Although I was the editor of the Los
Angeles Times, my staff didn't fear me. I favored an open dialogue and a good understanding between us in the group. The editorial line was always respected and I had no complaints about the productivity of my team.

  "We don't do people, Cait."

  The umpteenth infidelity of Faïz, spread out on the front page of this newspaper, was one too many. Rachelle Conor was asking for a divorce and it was already being said that it would be the most expensive one in history. It was only the beginning of a long process, all in plain sight.

  "What a waste!" These words were a barely audible sigh that didn't even reach Cait's ears.

  "Now that he's single..."

  "No, not yet," I cut it, "Until proven otherwise, he's still married."

  "This doesn't prevent this young billionaire from being one of the most coveted bachelors on the planet today."

  Cait was staring at me with her mischievous little eyes, dying to ask me about the Faïz Mattew case. It shouldn't be forgotten that she was a journalist, and therefore of a curious nature, wanting to know the bottom line on all the subjects she covered. She ran a hand through her long, wavy blonde hair that surrounded a rounded face with protruding cheekbones.

  Her voice was a note higher than usual, "I mean, if I knew his family as well as you do, I..."

  "I'm going out to lunch," I interrupted her once again to end this conversation that was beginning to degenerate.

  I was hurrying to the exit with my things under my arm when the phone on my desk rang. I took a quick look at Cait, and she knew right away that she had to leave.

  "Yes, Christine?"

  "Mrs. Reyes, your friend David just called and left you a voicemail. He's expecting you home late this afternoon for the meeting."

  Shit! I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  "Do you want me to give him a message?" I asked my assistant, visibly worried by my silence.

  "Uh... no... yes. Call him back and tell him I have other priorities for today. I promised my daughter I'd stay with her tonight."

  After all, all they'll have to do is give me the summary of that meeting. I wasn't ready to see Faïz again. Not ready to hear the worst of it. It wasn't the right time. Besides, it would never be.

  I stopped at the Civic Center, Grand Park stop. At this time of the day, the subway was the fastest way to get there. Georgia's wings weren't heavy, but very bulky. It's about time she gets rid of them once and for all! Unfortunately, this accessory was so important to her. She wore her angel wings all the time, from morning to night, and had been wearing them for several months now. My daughter never took them off, except to sleep. They gave her a certain confidence and she probably felt closer to her father with them. I couldn't take that away from her.

  Across the street, Elijah was sitting not far from the entrance of the Hill Street Bar. I couldn't help but slightly smile when I saw him and immediately oxygen inflated my lungs. I thought he was still to himself, but he wasn't. He was probably in the middle of a conversation with Condor. I hurried across the street to meet him.

  "Just leave me alone! I don't need any advice from you. You still think..." Elijah stopped talking when he saw that I was next to him.

  "Zoe, beautiful! How are you doing? Is it Tuesday already?"

  "Already? The days seem so long to me now," I said as I sat on the floor beside him with my back against the wall of the restaurant.

  "Please tell me you're bringing my shrimp and avocado sandwich."

  I took my friend's lunch out of my bag. He grabbed it without wasting time, "Ah! You're the best," his eyes shone, "I didn't find anything in the trash this morning for my breakfast. I'm hungry as a wolf."

  "Why don't you come home?" I asked, with a heavy heart when I heard his words, "You've been part of the family for several years now."

  My eyes turned to the passersby who were glancing curiously at us. Sometimes the stares were benevolent. Other times they seemed annoyed at my friend. He didn't care, too busy noisily devouring the sandwich. By living on the streets, he had learned to put up with people's looks. Elijah didn't like to talk about himself. A little senile, he was used to talking to himself and bitching at the whole world. He had a lot of anger in him, but he was different when he was with us.

  "The feathers fell again?" asked my friend after finding the accessory that was sticking out of my bag.

  I remembered then that I had Georgia's wings with me. "Yes," I sighed as I gave them to him, "Can you fix them, please."

  Elijah grumbled while examining them, "What is my princess going to do without her wings for the next two days?"

  "She knows that you and...Condor will do it fast," I didn’t believe what I was saying.

  "This good-for-nothing!" he cried, "this useless man couldn't even put a thread through a needle."

  "If he existed... maybe he would know," I said in a low voice.

  My friend raised his cloudy eyes. His angular face with dark, thin skin was ageless. Indeed, the man looked neither too young nor too old. From what I knew of his life course, he was certainly in his late forties.

  "Why am I listening to your nonsense!" Elijah grunted, not happy with my remark, "After all, you're the one pretending to be a goddess. That the world is populated by angels of death and Leviathans. Damn it, Zoe! You're even crazier than I am. You and Condor should get along great."

  I burst out laughing despite myself and put my head on my friend's shoulder which, contrary to what one might think, had a pleasant smell, a mixture of musk and amber.

  "You haven't forgotten about tomorrow?"

  "No, I know I have to babysit my princess because you have your hip-hop show."

  "Georgia can't wait for you to make her your macaroni and cheese recipe."

  He laughed softly, "She's pretty easy to feed. I just hope Condor will behave and not try to get all the attention."

  I discreetly looked up and refrained from making any comments, "Have you seen the girls since last week?"

  "Yes, those strange beasts came to see me last night."

  "Stop calling them that, they love you."

  "They're the only two people who can get me in an unbearable state of frustration. Yesterday, they argued about a French number: quatre-vingt-dix-huit to be exact. Asarys said that the French language is a language for crazies, how could they complicate things so much? Quantifying so many numbers to make just one! Ninety-eight."

  I raised my head to look at my friend with a smile on my face, "Lexy's teaching her to speak French, Eli. Asarys is brave because I admit that language isn't simple."

  "And then they talked about something else," his eyes turned to the ground.

  I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  "I was waiting for you to tell me," he continued, "Apparently, the bad man is back?"

  Disoriented, I cowered and instinctively turned my eyes away to the restaurant entrance. A blow would have hurt less. Elijah wanted to talk about Faïz. He'd called him that since we first met. At that moment, I saw myself again on that grayish morning, shortly after our return from Eros. It was when I opened the door of this place, trying to feed myself properly, that my gaze met Elijah's for the first time. Elijah was sitting in the same place as today, trying to collect a few coins in a small cardboard cup.

  "Oh, that look, I know it all too well," he said softly and with compassion.

  A feeling of pain and sorrow prevailed at that time.

  My voice trembled, "I lost everything.”

  "Everything? No! Not yet. Come on, why don't you come and sit next to me?"

  The day we met, I had told him everything without being able to stop: the legend, Victoria, the demons, Eros and Faïz. Especially Faïz. Of course, he thought I was crazy and in his eyes, I was still crazy and so were a bunch of my friends. He, in turn, had revealed himself and introduced me to Condor, his imaginary friend. Ever since then, we'd both called each other crazy. That day, he saved my life. He was my lifeline and he still is today. Elijah was a part of my life.


  "He's in town," I confessed to him as I returned to the present, "We have to all get together to talk about the Maestro, and how to destroy him once and for all."

  My friend shook his head in disapproval, "I don't think you're ready to see him again, Zoe. Five years, five long years, that's time. You're still fragile. Besides, you should distance yourself from not only the bad guy, but the rest of your cult."

  "It's not a cult!" I cried, "I'm not asking you to distance yourself from that dumbo Condor, the dumbo you say. Back me up, please."

  "All right," he sighed, "But don't ask me to be nice to this guy if I have to meet him. What about Georgia?"

  My daughter's name in my friend's mouth sounded strange. His grave tone underlined a concern that he was trying to conceal as best he could.

  "Don't worry about her. Faïz isn't planning to move to L.A. His life and work are in New York. There's not much chance he'll run into Georgia. No one wants to turn her daily life upside down. We want to keep her out of it."

  Elijah didn't insist in the face of my certainties. We were all the cause of Faïz's exile. Indeed, he had moved on and had erased us from his life, a long time ago.

  "Are you coming home tonight?" I asked my friend, in a hurry to change the subject.

  "I'll stop by for a shower."

  "I guess you won't be staying the night?"

  "No, there is nothing like freedom," Elijah closed his eyes and opened his arms wide.

  FAÏZ

  Faïz sat for quite a while in the living room, basking in the sun that invaded this space that seemed so different from what he had known an eternity ago. He was trying to slow down his memories that were intertwining at full speed in his mind. The villa was empty and only silence was drumming in his ears. He emptied his glass of alcohol before straightening himself up while rubbing his head. The young man decided to go upstairs, driven by the desire to regain a lost serenity.