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    The Mediator
    The Mediator
    The Mediator
    Ebook66 pages39 minutes

    The Mediator

    By Erica Pensini

    ()

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    About this ebook

    I am not an object of desire because of who I am, but because there is something I know how to do better than anyone else. I show people their deepest desires, the ones they cannot get themselves to acknowledge.

    Hold my hand as we head to hell, I know that’s where you want to be. It will seem so natural to go down that path when you and I walk side by side. My innocence is infinite.

    I am the Mediator.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherErica Pensini
    Release dateApr 3, 2016
    ISBN9781311006073
    The Mediator

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      Book preview

      The Mediator - Erica Pensini

      The Mediator

      A psychological thriller by Erica Pensini

      Disclaimer:

      This story is a work of fiction and all names, characters, and places are nothing but fantasy.

      Thrillers by the same author:

      The Missing Link

      Forget Me Not

      Lethal Discoveries

      Chapter 1

      In the broadness of my minimalistic living room the shadows of the dimming day wrap around my silhouette, black against the whiteness of the couch.

      Ms. Dawson…, starts the journalist

      John, why don’t you call me Iris, I say

      The journalist is silent for a moment, before he replies, Sure Iris. His reply is accompanied by a brief laugher and a barely detectable tinge of embarrassment.

      Good, I smile

      John’s eyes elude mine for a moment, tracing unspoken questions in the empty space. I sit immobile, waiting for his words.

      You’ve written ten books worth millions of copies each, he starts, but the beginning of your first book is what always stroke me the most

      Why?, I ask

      John knows, but he cannot tell me.

      I see John brought the book with him, and I ask him to read the passage to me.

      Perhaps you could, he says after a pause, handing me the book

      I recite from memory instead, my eyes locked onto his.

      I am not an object of desire because of who I am, but because there is something I know how to do better than anyone else. I show people their deepest desires, the ones they cannot get themselves to acknowledge.

      Hold my hand as we head to hell, I know that’s where you want to be. It will seem so natural to go down that path when you and I walk side by side.

      My innocence is infinite.

      After I finish we sit silent for a moment.

      Why?, I ask again

      Instead of offering an answer John clears his throat and pulls out his notebook.

      I smile and pour us drinks.

      Perhaps you want to hear the full story behind these words, I say, as I patiently begin to weave the path to John’s answer.

      Chapter 2

      I had spent the day in a conference room, and I was ready to have some time on my own. I excused myself from the social activities planned for the evening and started heading to my hotel alone.

      The fall chilled New York City. It could start pouring any moment, and passers-by hastily pushed their way forward, barely aware of each other’s presence. It was not a good day for walking, and I could have taken a cab. The streets were jammed though, and I relished the shuffles of wind ruffling my hair, they felt liberating after the atrophy in which the previous hours had plunged me.

      But when I reached 5th Ave. hell suddenly broke loose, the slashes of rain fell hard, drenching me within minutes. I tried to hail a cab, but I couldn’t get anybody to stop for me. I silently cursed the drivers, and looked around for somewhere to shelter myself till the rain would subside.

      There was a hotel at the corner. I stood at the entrance, monitoring the sky for some sign of respite from the downpour.

      A man stepped out of a limousine, accompanied by a guy holding an

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