Femme Fatale: The King's Deadly Temptress

Chapter 521: The Stylist

Golden Phoenix Residences

Katherine had been working out in the corner of her bedroom for the past hour. It was already six in the evening, and she was still focused on working on her core muscles. She had been feeling uneasy these past few days, and this was the only thing she could do to take her mind off the things that were weighing her down. 

Every day, she would wake up and pray that she and her loved ones would get through the day safe and alive. They had been playing it safe lately, and although they were careful, slip-ups like Felix's still happened. If only there was a fast forward until the part where Shadow no longer operates, she would have probably taken that opportunity already. Too bad life doesn't work that way.

She promised Damien that she would keep it together and take steps one at a time. But if she was honest with herself, she would have already marched towards Castle and eliminated everyone once and for all. However, she already did that five years ago. And that did nothing as Shadow remained stronger than ever.

They were still working on getting a more significant proof that's enough to bring Parker and Shadow down permanently. If only miracles happen, then she'd finally put an end to all her miseries.

"This won't do," she muttered to herself as she got up from the yoga mat and went to her closet.

Katherine quickly changed into her black hydrasuit swimwear, snatched a fresh towel, and then headed towards the pool out on the balcony. She thought Damien's pool upstairs would have been better than hers because it was bigger and was indoors, but she didn't want to go all the way up there in her swimsuit.

The air was definitely cold outside, so she turned on the heating system of her above-ground pool and got in the water after setting her towel down at the nearby chair. The pool immediately heated up at just the right temperature as she began her laps.

Smoothly gliding through the water, Katherine emptied her mind and concentrated on getting to the end of the pool, flip turning as soon as she got to the wall and then back again. She did this a few times, properly breathing in and out while getting a whole body and cardio work out.

After her fifth turn, she noticed an open palm hand dipping into the water a couple of meters ahead. The figure was unclear at first, and it wasn't until she got nearer that she realized that it was Damien's. She swam towards it, her right hand extending forward and reaching out to grab his.

As soon as their hands touched, Damien held it securely until she emerged from the water.

Once Katherine surfaced, she came face to face with him who was standing outside the above ground pool still dressed in an impeccable suit. A satisfied smile ghosted her lips when she saw his gaze, relieved that he was finally back.

"Why are you swimming out here? It's cold," he said, handing her a towel.

With his help, Katherine got out of the pool and started drying herself. "I adjusted the temperature of the water, so it's not cold. I just wanted to take my mind off things." She tiptoed and kissed him on the lips. "Welcome home."

Damien did not think twice about taking off his suit jacket and putting it around her. It was warm and comfortable that she did not resist and allowed him to take care of her. "Let's get inside," he said.

As they stepped in, he wondered where the others were as he hadn't seen anyone in the kitchen nor the living room. "Where are the others?" he asked.

"Styles is working in his room, and I think your mom is helping Felix with his hair. They're in the powder room." She nodded to the open door to their left near the kitchen.

Earlier that day, they received a hint from one of Damien's men who stayed near the police stationan important update regarding the investigation of the senator's death. With the nurse's description, the authorities were able to come up with a sketch of a man whom the medical staff believed to be the last person they saw when they responded to the emergency call. 

In the sketch, along with the detailed description, one could possibly recognize Felix if they had seen him before. The hair, nose, and the skin tone was on point, and because he had a mask pulled down to his chin, the face shape wasn't as accurate. Also, the eye color didn't match Felix's. 

Although the autopsy could rule out a foul play, they didn't want to take the risk. With this, they still decided to give Felix a makeover, changing the color and style of his hair and the way he dresses and carries himself. It was something that Katherine, Amelia, and others who were part of Shadow had mastered so well. 

A man dressed in a knitted blue sweater and khakis walked out of the powder room. His once long brown hair was now a clean-cut jet black, a perfect match for the bold black frames that he wore, looking pretty much like Clark Kent when he wasn't Superman.

"Wow. Who are you?" Styles appeared from his bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, a huge smile forming on his face as he looked at Felix who was suddenly shy because of his new appearance.

"You look so different," Katherine commented.

"I did a pretty good job, didn't I?" Amelia strolled towards them, holding a comb in one hand and a spray bottle in the other.

Damien scrutinized Felix who stood in front of him, appearing a bit nervous because of his new look. He could still recognize the other, but the significant change in his style and appearance definitely masked what he usually looked like. "Not bad."

"Now who wants a haircut?" Amelia whipped out a pair of hair scissors and snipped the air as she scanned the rest of them, trying to see who was interested in getting her services. She darted her gaze between Styles and Damien who suddenly looked slightly pale as though they didn't trust her skills. Her mouth twitched at the thought of being challenged.

Feeling mischievous, Katherine lightly nudged Damien towards his mother. "Didn't you say you wanted to get a haircut?"

He did. He really did.

Damien's heart started to race, and he swallowed the growing lump in his throat while his eyes locked at the scissors in his mother's hand. No one else touched his hair except his personal stylist. And he wasn't sure if he was ready for this.