He Called Me Boring in French Chapter 05

He Called Me Boring in French Chapter 5

Hunting Ghosts 

Marcus sits behind his desk, forty–seventh floor, 

staring at nothing. His suit jacket hangs wrinkled on the chair. Shirt collar open. Two days without shaving……____ 

Five private investigator reports scattered across the 

mahogany surface. Every single one says the same thing: Nothing. 

His phone rings. Ivan’s name lights up the screen. 

“Mr. Kane, her passport records are blocked. Bank accounts show no suspicious activity. Phone GPS is completely dark.” 

“Blocked? Who the fuck has that kind of clearance?” 

“Government agencies. Or academic institutions with. special research permits.” 

Academic institutions. 

Marcus stands so fast his chair rolls back and slams into the wall. Margaret Foster. That bitch professor. The one who always looked at him like he was something she stepped in. 

Blake, find Dr. Margaret Foster. Columbia 

environmental studies. Every project she’s running. 

Every location. Everything.” 

He hangs up before she can respond. Dials another number. 

“Torres. I need everything on Dr. Margaret Foster. Columbia. Environmental department.” 

“Mr. Kane, your wife covered her tracks professionally. 

This took planning. Months of planning.” 

“I don’t pay you to tell me what I already know!” 

Marcus throws the phone onto the desk. Stares at the framed photo of their wedding day. Evelyn in white, laughing, radiant. His fingers trace the edge of the frame. Then he hurls it against the wall. Glass shatters. Scatters. 

Two years in Paris. She spoke perfect French and never knew. She heard every word I said. Every 

fucking word. And she smiled. She came home and 

smiled at me while planning this. 

The The car stops crooked outside Rachel’s building. 

Marcus takes the stairs two at a time. Can’t wait for 

the elevator. His fist pounds on the door. 

Rachel! Open up! I know you’re home!” 

The door opens a crack. Chain lock engaged. Rachel’s 

face appears in the gap. 

“Look who’s here. The abandoned husband.” 

“Where is she? Just tell me she’s safe.” 

“Safe? NOW you care? Where was this concern when 

you were fucking someone young enough to be in college?” 

Marcus’s voice drops low. “Open this door, Rachel.” 

“Save it.” 

Marcus grabs the door frame. “I love her! I made a mistake but I can change.” 

“You love the idea of her. The perfect trophy wife who asked no questions. Well, she’s done being your accessory.” 

“She’s my WIFE.” 

“She WAS your wife. Past tense. We all knew about Sienna, Marcus. Her friends, her professors, even your housekeeper. Evelyn was the last to know because she TRUSTED you.” 

Rachel’s eyes go cold. 

“She asked me to tell you something. She said: ‘Some things, once poisoned, can never be clean again.“” 

The door slams shut. Lock clicks. 

Marcus stands in the empty hallway. Slams his fist into 

the wall. Once. Twice. Knuckles split. Blood smears the paint. Then he slides down, back against the wall, breathing hard. 

Four hours of driving through the night. Boston at dawn. Victorian house in the professor district. Marcus parks crooked. Looks worse than before. 

Hasn’t slept. Hasn’t eaten. 

He climbs the steps. Rings the bell. 

Dr. Hart opens the door. Sixty–something. Sharp eyes. 

Doesn’t open it all the way. 

“Dr. Hart, I need to speak about Evelyn.” 

“My daughter doesn’t want to speak with you.” 

“Please. I’m her husband. I just need to know she’s okay.” 

“You WERE her husband. Past tense.” 

Marcus steps closer. “I made terrible mistakes. But I love her. I can change. I’ll do anything.” 

“Mr. Kane, my daughter is brilliant, kind, and forgiving to a fault. Do you know what it takes for Evelyn to give up on someone? It means you crossed a line so unforgivable that even her generous heart couldn’t excuse it.” 

Sir, please…” 

“My daughter gave up a VP position for you. She gave Up her health, her body, her dreams. And you repaid her by fucking a twenty–two–year–old.” 

“Just tell me where she is.” 

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. But here’s what I CAN tell you: wherever she is, she’s happier than she 

ever was with you. She’s finally free.” 

Marcus reaches out. Dr. Hart’s voice turns to ice. 

“Remove your hand or I call the police. I’m sure your investors would love that headline.” 

Marcus drops his hand. The door closes in his face. 

Midnight. Marcus sits in his dark apartment. Whiskey in hand. Everything hurts. The doorbell rings. 

He opens it. Sienna stands there. Heavy makeup. Red eyes. Smiling. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

She’s gone. Now you can finally be with me.” 

Marcus looks at her. Really looks. Blonde hair. Young 

face. Empty eyes. 

Disgust rises in his throat. 

Sienna reaches for him. “Marcus, we can be together 

now. No more hiding.” 

He shoves her hand away. “Get OUT.” 

But I’m pregnant! With your son! OUR baby.” 

Marcus turns. Eyes dangerous. “Did you send those messages to Evelyn?” 

Sienna actually smiles. “She needed to know the truth! That you love ME. That I’m having your baby and she’s 

just a…” 

“You stupid, STUPID bitch.” 

“What? Marcus, I did it for US.” 

“You did it for YOU! You destroyed EVERYTHING!” 

“But you said she was boring! You said I made you feel alive!” 

“I said what you wanted to hear. You think I’d leave 

my wife for YOU?” 

Sienna starts crying. “But the baby…‘ 

“I told you to get rid of it.” 

“I can’t! I love you! I love our baby!” 

Marcus’s hand moves before he thinks. The slap cracks across her face. 

“Marcus…” 

Another slap. Then another. Sienna falls. Hits the floor Hard. 

You ruined EVERYTHING! She was perfect! She was 

MINE!” 

His foot lifts. Comes down on her stomach. Once, 

“NO! The baby!” 

Twice. 

“MARCUS! PLEASE!” 

Blood spreads beneath her. Dark red on expensive. carpet. Sienna curls into herself. Screaming. 

Marcus’s voice goes quiet. 

“You were just entertainment. A distraction. You were 

NEVER anything more.” 

“Save the baby… please…” 

He picks up his phone. Voice flat. “I need an 

ambulance. A woman fell down stairs in my 

apartment. She’s pregnant and bleeding.” 

Hangs up. Looks at Sienna once. Grabs his coat. Walks to the door. 

“Don’t leave me! MARCUS!” 

“Ambulance will be here in five minutes. You’ll live.” 

The door closes. Leaves her alone in the blood. 

Marcus sits in his car. Hands shaking on the steering 

wheel. Stares at the blood on his knuckles. 

His phone rings. Torres. 

“Mr. Kane. I found something.” 

Marcus straightens. “WHERE?” 

“Columbia’s environmental studies. Dr. Margaret Fos- 

ter runs an Amazon rainforest climate project. Very 

remote. Very secretive. Passport records protected.” 

“Amazon?” 

“Middle of the rainforest. Weeks from civilization. 

Communication limited. Even if you find the location, you’d need days of dangerous trekking.” 

“Send me everything. Coordinates. Contacts. 

EVERYTHING.” 

“Mr. Kane, maybe it’s time to let…” 

“SEND IT.‘ 

Marcus starts the engine. Checks the rearview mirror. 

His face stares back. Haggard. Wild. Broken. 

Behind him, sirens wail. Getting closer. 

Amazon. She went to the fucking AMAZON to escape the.