A Dangerous Scent

Amory had just bought a pack of cigarettes and already knew someone was watching him, but when he turned around, there was no one in sight. That stalking continued for several days. At first, he didn't pay much attention to it, but gradually, it began to annoy him.

Who could it be? Why not face him directly instead of skulking around?

Amory was a journalist for a major newspaper agency, and he had made enemies with quite a few people. However, all of those people were guilty: large enterprises and small businesses operating unscrupulously, causing numerous violations and leading to unpredictable consequences for society. He often sold his scoops at exorbitant prices, yet they still had to buy them. If they refused, naturally, those stories would be published, and it was only a matter of time before the businesses went under. Amory considered his vendetta to be a righteous one; he believed that those who sow the wind reap the whirlwind. Sometimes, during drinking sessions, Amory would proudly thump his chest and call himself a "Judge."

Perhaps the person tracking him belonged to one of the companies he had "exposed," but that person didn't jump out to beat him up like the warnings he had received many times before. That person merely stood from afar, watching him, and disappeared whenever he turned around.

One time, unable to bear it anymore, he shouted:

Who's there? If you've got guts, come out and talk!

Not a single voice replied.

Amory considered his vendetta to be a righteous one; he believed that those who sow the wind reap the whirlwind. Sometimes, during drinking sessions, Amory would proudly thump his chest and call himself a "Judge."

Living amidst the feeling of being watched without knowing who the stalker was, or what lay ahead, drove one to utter panic. Amory considered himself a man who feared neither heaven nor earth, but the problem here was that he didn't even know what he should stand strong against.

The stalking dragged on for two whole months. Amory even hired private detectives and a few professionals in this field to find out, but none of them brought back any results. They claimed he was hallucinating because he had made enemies with too many people. Amory was furious yet powerless. Since they weren't in his shoes, how could they possibly understand?

Amory's work was also somewhat affected because he couldn't concentrate.

One day like any other day of being stalked, Amory went to a pub to drown his sorrows. He often came here to drink alcohol and have some appetizers.

Quite naturally, he met Ciara at the pub. She came alone, emitting a seductive fragrance from her body. He had never smelled anything so special before. The two of them liked each other at first sight. No, it should be said that Amory liked her at first sight.

I am a married woman! - she said.

Why are you sitting here alone?

Because in places like this, I don't want to have a man by my side.

May I know the reason?

Do you know when women are at their most dangerous and also their most vulnerable?

When?

When there is no man by their side. You can either be deceived by her or deceive her. Between those two choices, do you feel more intrigued by her?

So do you want to deceive me?

She only smiled.

Clearly, on Ciara's hand, there was neither a wedding ring nor any indentations left by one. Amory became even more certain that she was lying about having a husband. She was simply trying to appear mysterious.

Amory had no wife and lived alone in a relatively upscale apartment. Every month, he faithfully sent enough money home to his mother and supported a younger brother studying abroad. His life lacked nothing—except for the person who had been stalking him for the past two months.

Yet, standing before such a beautiful woman, he no longer cared about his stalker. Understanding his intention, she remarked:

My husband might find out I am talking to you.

Then let's go to my place.

She agreed without any hesitation. Amory didn't pay much attention either, as he was already infatuated with her. He wished he could rip that dress right off and touch Ciara's cool skin. He would probably die if he couldn't do that.

The two of them lay on the spacious bed, embracing each other, savoring each other's bodily scent. He had never made love to a woman like Ciara. There was something so captivating about her that he could never comprehend.

Waking up the next morning, Amory was horrified to find himself lying naked on a pile of garbage, with not a soul in sight. His head felt as dizzy as if he had been drugged. Struggling to scavenge something that could be called "clothes" from the trash heap, he rushed out to the main road to hail a ride. When he asked how far it was from Hanoi, they looked at him and said, "It takes about a 5-hour drive."

Amory was struck dumb. How on earth did she bring him here in just those few hours? And for what purpose?

He had never made love to a woman like Ciara. There was something so captivating about her that he could never comprehend.

Returning home to clean up, Amory discovered that all the cash in the house had vanished into thin air, along with many other important documents.

Amory hurriedly reported it to the police, but before he even had the chance, the police arrived. They presented a series of photos showing him engaging in illegal news-selling transactions with businesses, and even pictures of him at a bar, though Ciara was completely absent from them.

It must be her... - Amory muttered - She must have set all this up to frame me.

From muttering, Amory screamed insanely, but he could no longer run away.

On his desk at that moment still lay the newspaper whose front page covered the suicide of a seafood company director when his company got tangled in a food safety scandal.

...

Ciara was standing before her husband's grave, placing a bouquet of flowers down and praying. Gazing at the tombstone for a long time, her expression grew pensive. She looked as though she were looking at a real person rather than an inanimate slab of stone.

Ciara spoke amidst the incense smoke:

I pushed him down the cliff just like he pushed you down the cliff two months ago. I know you wouldn't like this way, but without me, retribution would have reached him far too late.

With that, Ciara left. White daisy petals fluttered in the wind.

Waiting for Ciara outside was a man in dark glasses, looking like a detective. Seeing her, he simply nodded in greeting and said:

The perfume you ordered has arrived. Who is next?

Ciara merely replied:

Who is next? All those who betrayed my husband. But this time, I want their hearts. They sell for a much better price, too!

The man shuddered. He realized one thing: in this world, nothing is more terrifying than a woman's heart.