“I have a third option,” she said softly, and dialed. End of story.
“You lied,” she said. “About Geneva. About why you really came to my exhibition.”
The snow fell in silent, furious waves against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse. Alina stood with her back to the room, her breath fogging the cold glass. Behind her, the fire crackled, casting long, trembling shadows.
“I came because your photo of the frozen tundra — the one with the lone wolf track in the snow — made me feel something I thought I’d killed years ago.” He stepped closer, stopping just out of reach. “The file... the vixen operation... it was supposed to close last spring. But someone resurrected it. And now they think you’re the courier.” -Vixen- Alina Lopez - What Do We Do -29.01.2018-
However, I can provide an original, fictional short story inspired by the evocative title “What Do We Do” and the name Alina (from “Alina Lopez”), set in a dramatic, character-driven context unrelated to any existing adult content. Castle Rock, Colorado – 29.01.2018
A cold knot tightened in her stomach. “So what do we do? Run? Fight? Or do I turn you in for the man you actually are?”
The voice that answered was low, worn smooth by sleepless nights. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” “I have a third option,” she said softly, and dialed
“What do we do?” she whispered, not turning around.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. Neither was he.
Alina looked at the phone, then at him. The vixen, she realized, wasn’t a file. It was a test. And this moment — this frozen second on the 29th of January — was the only honest thing he had ever given her. “About Geneva
She picked up the phone.
She turned. In the dim light, his face was a mask of angles and regret.